I aspire to be glamorous like Kat Williams and La Carmina: to wear vintage dresses and get paid to travel the world. To make magazines. To go on adventures with kindred fa(t)shion spirits in party dresses, petticoats, and pink hair.
I aspire to inspire other fat girls and women like Tess Munster. To create badass images of fat beauty. To show them they, too, can be beautiful.
I aspire to walk in the woods, full of wonder, like Mary Oliver. To live by the ocean, to wander the tidal flats, to dive deep into the blue mystery that is life.
I aspire to tell my truths, like Cheryl Strayed. To crack hearts open in the best way. To write with both brutality and kindness.
I am still struggling to integrate these visions, these dreams, the many different ways I see myself. Continue reading