Body image

The Skinny on Being the Skinny Bitch

Term of the Day: skinny bitch.

There are not many words or phrases I dislike but this is up there on my list. For more reasons that just because it contains the word bitch. The main reason is that it is a derogatory term aimed to hurt skinny girls. Society and media has depicted the image of all skinny women being desirable and YET they are skinny bitches. Skinny=bitch. Skinny=desirable. Skinny=privilege.  People who aren’t skinny (which I actually don’t care to much for that word either, I prefer slender, or we could get scientific and say ectomorph), are told to hate or “thin shame” their counterparts instead of lifting them up. This same conception and perception also encourages us to believe that because one is slender, then they DO NOT HAVE PROBLEMS WITH THEIR BODY IMAGE. They have it all together.  Slender, thin, ectomorphs, can have body image issues. This is coming from a small person who has an ED, I am also very fit, which leads people to downplay my issues or think that I would never have an ED because I am what society sees as desirable, BUT, yet there are images out there saying I am not desirable because I have no meat, curves, or anything for my husband to hold. I may not keep him warm, but I am a person and take up space so he does have something to hold. ***Now, I know the same falls on the other end of the spectrum, there is fat shaming, and it is horrible. But today I am focusing on the slender side***

I have written about this a few times and through my many years of working in the fitness and wellness field I have seen it all. I have seen “skinny” girls who are very unhealthy and I have seen larger women who are very healthy. At the end of  the day it all comes down to this: God made each and everyone of us. He made some of us petite, short, tall, large, slender, in between, frizzy hair, straight hair, blue eyes, brown eyes, red hair, etc….All we are asked to do is to take care of it/honor it. That means being healthy. Getting your own individualized balance of exercise and healthy eating.

This morning I woke up to the following article from Elephant Journal on my Facebook. I loved it. It is a well written entry from the perspective of the person who people would see as a “skinny bitch”. How it can be very difficult to be seen when you are smaller. How people automatically assume you have an ED or that you are uppity or that you just need to eat a burger. We are each individual and lovely. So for my slender girls, my “skinny bitches”, this is for you. And for those of you who aren’t, still read it….your words can hurt (I have been hurt by people saying backhanded compliments about my size and they don’t know my ED past).


This One’s for My Skinny Sisters by Janne Robinso


I am not my body-a meditation

This weekend was another emotionally taxing weekend at yoga teacher training. After last sessions anxiety attack I didn’t think it could get much worse. O was I wrong! This past weekend it was all about stripping down, tearing down our outside, being our own witness and looking deep within. This stuff always makes me uncomfortable (be it therapy or yoga) and I always fidget and avoid, avoid, avoid. I have very high walls around my heart and inner soul that I really don’t like to be torn down because I hate feeling vulnerable. Vulnerability makes me feel out of control and I HATE LOSING CONTROL. I know I still, even in therapy, have not fully let go. A part of me just cannot let go of the hurt, self-deprecating, and negative emotions. It is comforting to me even though I know that that statement is a lie. I have such a hard time letting people truly see me and letting control, maybe it is because I don’t know who I truly am. That is one reason why I am embarking on this yoga journey, that I can clear up the fog in the mirror and look deep into my own eyes and not be afraid of what I see.

This weekend we did a meditative practice(that I did not hate), that really  moved me. It spoke to me in a deep way that got me into my body in a good way. When my yoga mama read it, I knew that I had to share this with my fellow ED recoverers and strugglers. Please read this slowly, meditate on the words and see what this stirs up inside of you….


Who am I? Meditation by Sri Ramana Maharshi


I have a body, but I am not my body. I can see and feel my body, and what can be seen and felt is not the true Seer. My body may be tired or excited, sick or healthy, heavy or light, anxious or calm, but that has nothing to do with my inward I, the Witness. I have a body, but I am not my body.

I have desires, but I am not my desires. I can know my desires, and what can be known is not the true Knower. Desires come and go, floating through my awareness, but they do not affect my inward I, the Witness. I have desires, but I am not my desires.

I have emotions, but I am not my emotions. I can feel and sense my emotions, and what can be felt and sensed is not the true Feeler. Emotions pass through me, but they do not affect my inward I, the Witness. I have emotions, but I am not my emotions.

I have thoughts, but I am not my thoughts. I can see and know my thoughts, and what can be known is not the true Knower. Thoughts come to me and thoughts leave me, but they do not affect my inward I, the Witness. I have thoughts but I am not my thoughts.


I am what remains, a pure center of awareness, an unmoved Witness of all these thoughts, emotions, feelings, and sensations.


Peace and Namaste.

#’s (pounds not hashtags)

Do you love the scale? Do you hate the scale? Do you just not care? Whatever your opinion on scales are, you have an opinion. Hopefully it is a healthy one. Those of us with ED’s or are in process of recovery have a definite opinion of the scale. It is our frenemy (friend and enemy).  We love it because it brings us happiness when we need it. We love it
because it keeps our otherwise hectic life in control. Yet, we hate it because it brings us unhappiness. We hate it because it controls us. We hate it because it tells us our self-worth, self-value, and when people will love us. All because of one number we have in our heads. We cannot go above that number. We have a safety number (well I did). Once we go above the high number we starve and purge. If we fall below our safety number we binge because we feel sad and out of control than follow it up with purging.

When I was controlled by a scale I use to hide my insanity. The scale was in my parents bathroom. So I had to go in there to use it. I had to time myself and step on the white plastic scale when they weren’t around. If they caught me using it they would either check the number (which would result in gain weight comments), or tell me to get off it. I did it daily. Multiple times a day, knowing that your weight fluctuates during the day, I had to do it. Ask any one who struggles with this, it is only you and that scale. I had numbers on it where I felt my best and that I liked. I had numbers that were my heavy numbers which were signs that I need to lose weight. And I had a number that I couldn’t go under, mainly in part of a truce I made with my mom and gynecologist when I was severely underweight.

One of my first challenges was to step off that plastic white scale. To decrease my time on it. Instead of five times a day, cut back to three or four, etc…Eventually I weened myself off the scale and only stepped on them when I had a dr’s appointment. When I moved to my current therapist he came up with the idea to step on the scale sideways or backwards so I wouldn’t see the number. If I didn’t see the number I had no attachment to the number (I am not a math major but I had number attachments). It wouldn’t ruin my day with thoughts of “I am gaining” or “I am losing” etc…I felt like I looked stupid and I always made a joke of it but I soon came to realize that the nurses didn’t care. Most of them thought I was smart by doing that given my challenges.

The other day I had a major breakthrough. Probably one of my biggest ones in the almost three years of recovery. I saw a number on a white sheet of paper (my check out sheet at the doctor). On that white sheet of paper, I saw my weight. Here is the crazy part: it was heavier than usual, but I didn’t care. I knew that it may not be accurate because of the time of day, the time of month, and just took it with a grain of salt. I knew that I gained a few but that was ok because people still think I weigh less than that. I have muscle, and muscle weighs more than fat. There are lots of reasons for that number. My current weight as of that day was how much I weighed in high school. I honestly think I look smaller now then I did around ten years ago. But my body has also changed shape (yay for late blooming).  I took that number and just let it be. I didn’t purge, starve, or over exercise. I just became mindful of it and went on my merry way.

A year ago that would not have happened! 2 years ago that definitely would not have happened.6 months ago there would be a chance that that would not have happened. But there I was completely ok with it. Melvin did creep in and try to talk me into starving. I disobeyed. I was in a good place. Especially since they are figuring out what is really wrong with my GI distress, and that is enough t over rule any weight arguments with Melvin.

So for those of you out there struggling with the scale, don’t give up. Try getting on the scale backwards or sideways. Don’t have the health practitioner tell you anything. Work on getting rid of attachments to numbers (they do not serve you). Keep trekking on. Eventually that white plastic scale (or whatever color of scale you have)  won’t have a death grip on you.

Till that day comes, practice Metta (lovingkindness in Sanskrit).


images (4)

Am I All About That Bass?

O the joys of pop music. It is either really annoying or really good. It can also be middle of the road, where it has some great things going for it but it falls a bit short in some areas. Now I don’t listen to much pop music/mainstream music, I only started back because I now have a car that has a working radio. Lately, I have noticed a movement in music that is attempting to be body positive. Which is a great thing! I love that. But, at the same time, most of the songs that seem to be body positive are falling a bit short. A prime example is the song “All About That  Bass” by Meghan Trainor.

I have a love-hate relationship with this song. I still don’t know if I like it, but it is a good pop song because it is catchy and I always listen to it (it is like Britney Spears, but Britney Spears reminds me of my childhood….). “All About That Bass” has some great body positive energy and lyrics but it does give some backhanded compliments to skinny girls and to males themselves. There is also the whole argument about the video and black women being used as props but I am not going to address that. I want to dissect the pros and cons of this song. I still cannot decide if I like it or not, but, I want to show that while people are wanting to show more body diversity and positivity, we are still have a long way to go….

On a side note, when I first heard this song I actually thought it was gonna be about bass as in the form of dubstep or electronic music, not bass as in a booty…..


1) She is happy about her size

This comes out right at the first of the song, “Yeah, it’s pretty clear I ain’t no size tumblr_mehf7rQ5xg1qeomyho1_500two, but I can shake it like I’m supposed to do”. We all should love our size. Each and every one of us is completely different and made by God so we should learn to love how he made us and be happy with our shape.





2) She sings that we are perfect 

The lyrics, “every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top”. Is sweet. It is a great reminder to the pro up above. We are perfect in our shape because God made us. When this song does get stuck in my head that lyric is sung over and over and over and over again in my brain jukebox. warning-mirror





 3) Her mom gave great advice!

If her mom really said to her, “Yeah, my momma she told me don’t4960567_orig worry about your size”. That is something all mom’s need to be relaying to their children. It isn’t about the size of our bodies…it is about the size of our hearts, our laughter, our soul, our personality etc…Children learn body image habits and acceptance from their parents and family. This is no different than the other things parents teach their kids like love, kindness, selflessness, etc…


 4) Photoshop is bogus

“I see the magazines working that photoshop. We know that shit ain’t real, come on now and make it stop. If you got beauty beauty then raise it up because every inch of you stereotypeis perfect from the bottom to the top”.

Everyone will agree that photoshop has definitely impacted body image in a negative light. You can take one person and change everything about them with a few simple swipes of a computer program. There you can take what was made specifically for you and no one else and then change it to someone else’s ideal. The beauty ideal is what companies want you to think and feel so you will buy their products. It is made up. Also, an ideal, just like a norm, is made by others put on you. Not your own experiences or own thoughts. So each and every one of us needs to think about our own beliefs and look inside our hearts to define for ourselves what beauty is and not rely on photoshop and big business.


1) Just because you don’t have a booty doesn’t mean you can’t shake it shake it

I know plenty of slender, what people would call “bootyless”, individuals whDayna-H-body-positive-media-literacy-300x300o can  shake it shake it with the best of them. It isn’t about how big it is, really it is more about how you can manipulate your spine, low back, hips, and muscles. I can’t shake it. I can move my hips in a Latin ballroom way, but ask me to shake my rump and it doesn’t go. But, I have been in dance classes where girls can shake their tailfeather’s  but do not know how to do ballroom hips. It is ok. Really, are we suppose to shake it shake it? I have no desire to shake my butt. If you do then great! Also, last time I checked, there is no dance syllabus on how to properly shake it shake it.

2) Skinny=bitch

Skinny Bitch. That is phrase used a lot, not just in this song but in everyday life. In movies, in media, in TV, it is equated that if you are skinny then you are a bitch. Just like people think that fat people are lazy. These are ideals/images/stereotypes that have been pushed into our brains by society. I know skinny people who are lazy. I know faweight-stereotyping-w724t people who are hard workers. I know skinny people who don’t take care of themselves. I know fat people who are very health conscious. So honestly these stereotypes are wrong. It is up to us to stand up, change the stereotypes, or not give in to what they are. We make a choice. We can make a change.





3) All guys like bigger women

“Boys like a little more booty to hold at night”, “Cause I got that boom boom that all the boys chase”.

If this were true, then I would have never ever been on a date, yet alone married. A lot of dancers would not be married. Models would not be married. Athletes would not be married. Sure, there is some anthropological evidence that guys look at hips and breasts to decide if a mate can have a child but things are changing. I definitely do not send signals out via my body that I am ready to have your child (good thing my hubby and I are DINKS).  That doesn’t make me any less of a woman or less attractive. Guys will find attractive whatever they find attractive. Be it a beautiful big woman or a petite, looks like they are 12 years old woman. You cannot pigeon hold men, this classification is no different than funny-picture-skeleton-girls-goal-weightsaying only real women have curves.







4) If we don’t have a booty then we want one

This is something that is in the video. A white, slender, female model seems to longmonique for a booty of an African-American female. That alone seems sort of stereotypical, as well as wrong. I do not have a booty and I don’t want one. I am sure I am not the only one. I am sure there are those that want a bigger butt. But why do they want one? Could it be because society is saying that you aren’t a woman without a big butt? Wait, let us call it, “curves”.Or do they want one for themselves? Also, African-American women are not the only women that have booty. All races have females with booties and all races have those without (even though technically we all have booty, because the butt is made up of 3 muscles and everyone on earth has those 3 muscles).


What are your thoughts?


Are you a hungry ghost?

A few weeks ago I posted some quotes from the book Happy Yoga I am reading for my RYT (registered yoga teacher) training I begin this fall. Besides from helping me get into a yogini mind set, it has helped a lot with my recovery and made for some great therapy sessions. Recently, I read a part that talks about being a hungry ghost. Not just being a hungry ghost but living in a real hungry ghost realm. The section was short and sweet and to the point and really stops to make you think: am I a hungry ghost?


“If you were a king in India, the first thing your spiritual teacher would warn you about is the most common pitfall of all pitfalls, the easiest to slip into, and the most difficult to drag yourself out of: the hungry ghost realm. This is a term used by both yogis and Buddhists to describe a place-or a state of mind- where beings wander and dart, never seeing one another, never taking anything in, never enjoying the moment, always mulling become consumed by their mulling over the future or the past, and always feeling very alone, despite being surrounded by other hungry ghosts exactly like themselves. Hungry ghosts are possessed by desire. If they see something they think they can’t have, they immediately become consumed by their lust for it. It is not a realm of having. As soon as something is acquired, it’s immediately ignored and wasted. A hungry ghost wouldn’t even be aware of having, because once a thing is had, a new want arises and consumes every nook and cranny of the now even hungrier ghost’s being. There’s no room for having when you’re full of wants. Hungry ghosts are constantly wondering, ‘What’s next?’

A hungry ghost’s mind and identity has become consumed by a long list of desires. There’s always something more to jones after. A hungry ghost would be the last being to see itself as a hungry ghost, because it still believes strongly in the appearances of the phenomenal world-a world that seems to be full of promises. The promises, however, always fail to deliver satisfaction. Like a drug addict or a compulsive gambler, the hungry ghost is oblivious to this seemingly obvious pattern. Nothing is ever good enough once they get it, and everything is perfect when it’s just out of reach. The hungry ghost’s main attribute is absolutely insatiable desire-constant and relentless wanting and craving.


Hungry ghosts typically get caught in a downward spiral of want, lack, and poverty. This is a major problem if you’re a yogi aspiring toward a higher, more profound experience of life. Energy, attention, and awareness-the keystones of a yoga practice-are consumed with wanting, leaving you stuck wresting with the everyday superficialities of life. Having, on the other hand, requires much less attention and energy. Once you are no longer desperately seeking satisfaction, but feeling satisfied, the world will do everything it can to further satisfy you. It delivers itself to you on a platter. Having can take you to a place of maturity where you can deal with deeper questions of existence and attain enlightenment.”


Tough isn’t it? What does it make you think? Are you a hungry ghost? Were you at one point a hungry ghost?

I know that living with an eating disorder makes you a hungry ghost. And no, not just because you are hungry, but because an ED consumes you. Instead of a material want, you crave perfection/attention/numbness etc…An eating disorder life dulls you out from life. All you can think about is your next food fix or your next exercise session or the next laxative you are going to take. All you can think about is how skinny you look, how skinny do you look, do others know I am hurting, do others think I have an eating disorder? All you can think about is how close to being perfect one more day of starving, or one less calorie consumed can bring you to. How can you enjoy life when all you do is the forementioned?

In college I was a super hungry ghost. I enjoyed some moments, but there are more moments that Melvin (my ED for new readers) took from me than he gave me. Looking back I wish I had went to more parties instead of not going since they weren’t in my color coded schedule. That I participated more in groups. That when I went to my dance intensives I spent more time focusing on my dancing and not what I am not eating/am I eating enough/how I suck compared to the dancer on my left/drink more wine on top of that mountain at midnight, let others know who I am, be more friendly, lived each and every moment like a beat in a song. That when I did go out, I didn’t worry about how many calories were in my beer and how fat I looked, that I could just dance and drink and live life. When I went to dinners and picked around, when I had to lie about my eating situation, when parties made me nervous because of food. All of this is just a few!

And with no food in my system I had the head blurries so I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t focus on the prettiest rose, smell the Christmas tree, look up at the sky and take in God’s creation. I did occasionally, but not as much as I needed to. In yoga class, it was a competition. I had to do the best push ups, the most advance postures, I couldn’t do corpse pose and meditate (still difficult for me, I think I am up to ten minutes of relaxing. WOW!) just because my mind was consumed with everything else but the present moment.

Nothing was ever good enough because I thought I wasn’t good enough. My disordered thoughts made me believe (and still make believe when I am not careful), that there is always more. But more being skinnier. More being people pleasing. More being self-indulgent. More being self-harming. More being perfection. More being a bigger pile of anxiety. More Melvin and less Leslie.

As I move on in life with my therapy sessions and when I start yoga school, healing can begin more fully and I become even more aware of living in the moment. That I can clear my mind, rid myself of self-concept, have more Leslie and less Melvin, and most of all…never be a hungry ghost again.


Peace, Namaste, and God bless!

Throwback Thursday….Poetry Style

As everyone knows, Thursdays are #Throwback Thursdays or #TBT (I am still unsure of hashtags, so I think it is all caps)?I have been thinking about what to write and was stumped. Then I used the whole Throwback Thursday as inspiration for my post. When I was in high school and early college I wrote poetry. Actually I started poetry writing when I was in middle school and creative writing in elementary. The older I got the more I got into poetry, not just reading it, but writing it. Playing with free verse because I felt rhyming was to stifling, mash up poems were fun because I could use lyrics by  my favorite bands. I was completely influenced by the Beatniks and modern verse. I even had dreams, well aspirations, to one day be a published poet. I stopped writing poetry after my relationship before I meet my husband. Sometimes I wonder why I stopped when I have gone through so much that would be great poetry! I also wonder and think if it is too late to take poetry back up. Could I still get published one day?

I never shared much of work with anyone. Just like most artists/creative souls, and most insecure anxious people, art is so personal you hate to get it critiqued. You think it is perfect because it is you….and when someone doesn’t like your work you get offended because you think they don’t like you (this has happened to  me a lot in my dance choreography/dance life). So here ya go blogsphere. Here is my soul, my heart, via high school and college. These are some poems that to this day I still enjoy and I am proud of. If this goes over well, who know I may dig up some more 😉


*Untitled (really, it has no title, I just jotted it down)

We’re two of a kind, you and I. Similar in mind, soul. Two drifters longing to see the world. Traveling around looking for happiness. through books, through beer bottles, we pine. Pine for things beyond our control. But you just grab a joint. But our talks are endless, filled with depth. Maybe through our tete-a-tete’s we’ll find acceptance. Someone to hold our heart. Someone to hide our tears. I hope to find that in you. But we have our vices. What does one expect?

*Yay for another jotted down poem w/ no title

Parade me around

Wear me on your arm.

I want people to see that I am yours.

*Being a Woman

What does it mean to be a woman?

Pretty nails?

Skinny frame, nice shoes.

Big boobs and a bimbo mind.

The submissive piece of meat,

Who is only good for making babies and doing laundry.

Years of oppression are still followed by  moments of tears.

It isn’t easy being female.

With the biological things going on within our  bodies.

What does it mean to be a woman?

A brain?

Shattering molds of society.

Saying no to what is expected of us.

Accepting who we are inside and out,

Ok with being petite or curvy,

Ok with being the opinionated bitch, getting what she wants.

It’s ok to step out from behind the curtain,

The veil,

Time to reveal who we really are.

What does it mean to be a woman?

It means to be you.

Hold nothing back.

*Boulevards of Plastic

Mixed signals fill my head.

What is beautiful?

Let’s band super skinny models, and get in shape.

But you’re still too fat.

10 ways to go from flab to fab,

This is the closest thing to the fountain of youth,

Botox city.

Walking down boulevards of plastic.

Big boobs are the in,

Lift that body with the right pair of jeans,

Victoria’s Secret is no longer a secret.

Be like them.

It’s not good to be different.

There’s no such thing as pretty pudge, captivating cellulite, short stubs.

Commercials of pretty women,

Models on the cover of Vogue, Elle,

Shape me.

They brainwash me into believing what they believe.

I walked the boulevards of plastic,

The right diet street.

Led me to a place,

A hole I couldn’t get out of.

I came close to chocking. I couldn’t breathe.

These images clouded my mind from age five.

They are my chains of being a woman.

*Painted Noise, a tritina

Let’s laugh

And sing the night away. While our heart dies

And sway to the rhythm of this noise.

If we fill our minds with all the noise

And fill our heart with laughter

Then watch the sun die

And tye-dye

The sky with painted noise

That settle’s our soul and eases our mind to laugh.

Let’s feel this rhythmic noise and die to the sound of sin, music and sky and match it with the roar of our laughter.


Breathing in the salty air, feeling the waves crash around my feet. Hot sand between my toes as the sun warms my face. I look out into the ocean and beyond the horizon. As far as the eyes can see. The edge  of the world seems so far away, yet, within my reach. I long for the horizaon and have my life stretch as far as the sea into the sun. I take my  worries and fears and throw them into the ocean. I watch the waves carry them away, give me a clean slate. Start my life anew.

*How I Remember You

This is how I remember you:

A blurred image of my past

With a brightly colored aura

And one hand on my heart.

This is how I remember you:

A speedy afternoon rendezvous

With laughs and giggles

And a kiss on my cheek.

This is how I remember you:

A tearful goodbye

With a blackened heart

And one of us lying on the floor.

*Tear Stains (my last poem that I can find)

Tear stained pillow, tear stained eye, and tear stained heart. Everything is coming out tears, everything is coming up tears. My heart is tye-dyed with tears and memories of you. These tears are bombs to my soul, leaving scars and bruises.

These tears are tearing me apart as I slowly fall to the ground, as I beg for you to come back into my life. I make friends with the floor, longing to feel your touch.

I see you  here, there, everywhere…when the tears aren’t clouding my vision like glaucoma.

These tears are painful. They burn like hot coal and sting like your words: I love you, but I can’t be with you. Don’t think for one minute I’ve never loved you, the timing is just wrong.

Everyday I think for the better. O no tears today! I should know better because them come. They come on their own time, just like you. When it wasn’t convenient for me, but when it was best for you. They ruin my life and my mascara. I can’t do my makeup for it will get ruined. Like my party dress, the one I wanted to wear for you. Now it will go to waste. Just like my love.

How about some #tbt pictures?

Senior homecoming 2007 with of course, my bestie!

Senior homecoming 2007 with of course, my bestie!

Opening our heart centers. Tiffany and I in 2008/9

Opening our heart centers. Tiffany and I in 2008/9

Burning pictures and memories....just a little pyro. My bestie did this with  me!

Burning pictures and memories….just a little pyro. My bestie did this with me!

UT Homecoming, 2009 with my bestie

UT Homecoming, 2009 with my bestie

Ribs are not in, unless you are a BBQ rib

O the ribs. Besides the “thigh gap” and hip bones, ribs are one of the most self-worth/how skinny am I/I do not have an eating disorder measurement of those of us who have ED’s. We love ribs. We love to see them protrude and stick out like pterodactyl wings. The more of them we can see and count the prettier we feel about ourselves. It becomes a standard way to get the reinforcement we crave to prove to ourselves that this way of life is working. We see that we are getting skinny. Then we think,”the skinnier I get, the more my ribs stick out, or the smaller my thigh gap, or *insert your own personal physical fixation*, the more people will love me and the less pain I will feel”. O the lies. Once we start to see one or two ribs, the more we want to see. It is like eating BBQ ribs, you can’t stop at one or two, before you know it you have eaten a full rack. But, we all know that BBQ ribs are WAY better than human ribs. Unless you don’t like BBQ, which I would then say you haven’t had good BBQ yet 😉

The other day while I was on Facebook, I stumbled across this….

“Why is a nation with an outrageous obesity rate constantly attacking anything less than a full figured woman? It’s about being HEALTHY people. Some people are just thin. Some people have protruding ribs. That doesn’t mean they suffer from an eating disorder. Genetics people! Besides, ribs are in. Ribs are very haute couture, very Alexander McQueen. You can’t turn on the radio without hearing Lorde, who’s album features a song titled “Ribs.” 

All I’m saying is, stop hating on the skinny people, people.”

(this is in response to this article: )

There is a lot going on in this statement. There are a few correct thoughts, but most of it is skewed. We DO need to focus on being healthy. Some people are just thin. Yes, genetics play a huge role. There are naturally skinny people. But that doesn’t mean they are healthy. There are naturally bigger people. But that doesn’t mean they are healthy or unhealthy. You have to find YOUR healthy at whatever size you are. Sometimes bigger individuals are healthier than their skinnier counterparts. That is why it is important to work out or participate in physical activity, eat properly, visit your doctor, take a proactive approach to your health.

I do agree that society has a tendency to attack anyone and anything. They do push that if you are naturally skinny then you are less of a woman. BUT, if you are too fat then you are lazy and undesirable. Obesity is an epidemic America faces; eating disorders are also another problem America and the whole world faces. Obesity and eating disorders have a high mortality rate. Obesity can increase the chance of someone getting heart disease (number 1 killer of women), stroke, Type 2 Diabetes, and other diseases.  All of which are very deadly. For eating disorders, anorexia has the HIGHEST mortality rate of all mental illnesses. For more on the mortality rate of ED’s click here:

Now let’s look at the last half of the statement, Besides, ribs are in. Ribs are very haute couture, very Alexander McQueen. You can’t turn on the radio without hearing Lorde, who’s album features a song titled “Ribs.” If this is what this one individual is getting from media then I am sure this person is not the only one. The fashion industry has been trying to change and hire more models who appear normal and not underweight. Maybe the fashion industry isn’t trying hard enough if that fore mentioned statement can still be a thought in someone’s head.  The fashion industry and society still places A LOT of emphasis on the skinny ideal or preferred body type. They value it. They want us to continue to buy their products so they feed us this lie.  You cannot go down the aisle of a supermarket and not get some form of thinspiration or fitspiration. The bombardment of these messages can eventually take their toll on individuals who have low self esteem and mental illness. They believe this lie that ribs are in. When anatomically the only “in” ribs are suppose to be is inside your body covered by visceral pluera, pericardium, then eventually skin. While BBQ ribs are covered in a tasty spice rub and lacquered in sauce.

The Lorde song, “Ribs”, has nothing to do with ribs being “in”. Here are the only lyrics in the song that mentions ribs, “You’re the only friend I need/sharing beds like little kids/laughing till our ribs get tough/but that will never be enough”. The song is about the fear of getting older. How scary it is to grow up. She wants to stay a child. It is NOT about ribs being haute couture and something to be prized/measure your self worth by. The rest of the song supports her fear of getting older. For example, “This dream isn’t feeling sweet/we’re reeling through the midnight streets/And I’ve never felt more alone/It feels so scary getting old”, “It drives you crazy getting old”.

After all of this, I would love to know YOUR thoughts on this. Do you think ribs are in? What do you think society is pushing? Do you like BBQ ribs?


BBQ ribs and beer anyone?

BBQ ribs anyone?



AZ Lyrics, Rock Genius,,,  &