(Today’s guest post touches on an issue that is close to my heart. As you know, I have struggled greatly with my body over the years. Even after a 60 pound weight loss, I can still tell you that weight is one of the defining struggles of my life. While I don’t echo all of J Danielle’s thoughts, I definitely wish that my parents had encouraged…no, FORCED…me to be more active as a child!  She’s a great writer and I am happy to share her work with you guys. Enjoy the post and please leave feedback!

PS: Please check out my latest post at Clutch: Single and Normal-I also have a new post over at Soul Train: I Want To Slow Dance With Somebody.I’m the hardest working brokestchick in these internets!

PPS: TOMMORROW IS HAPPY BLACK GIRL DAY!)

Like a lot of people, I’ve gained weight since college. After a few years of trying to lose weight here and there, I’ve now gotten more serious about getting it off and keeping it off. To that end, I’ve been looking for people to work out with because studies show, and I can attest to it, making exercise something you do with others helps ensure you stick to the program.

With this in mind, I set out to find a black female workout partner who is around my age. This has been a struggle I didn’t anticipate. I figured I’d start some activities and naturally meet some black girls along the way.  Needless to say, that hasn’t happened.

For the past year, I’ve been rollerblading on and off with the Washington DC Roadskaters, a group that is made up of almost all white people. There have not been any black girls for me to chat it up with in my pilates or my belly dancing class. When I took pole dancing there were black girls in that class, and they were very fit, but pole dancing is their only workout and I don’t like it enough to focus on it exclusively.

The long-distance bike group I recently joined is almost all white males with a few white girls sprinkled in for good measure. And when I’m out on the trail rollerblading or running with my dog I rarely see black girls, and if I do they are typically long distance runners or black women north of 35 years old power walking.

A few black women that I’ve met (over 30) have asked me to go walking with them. No thanks. Walking is not the way I want to spend my precious free time. Plus I have a german shepherd that I have to run/walk with first thing in the morning every day. The last thing I want to do is bore myself to death walking a second time. And no I don’t want to meet anyone at the gym to use the treadmill or the elliptical.

I think Black girls need to rediscover the child in us. A lot of bloggers have written scathing posts about how black women are too lazy to exercise or too concerned with their hair to work out. (Sidebar: Hair is important factor, it shouldn’t be glossed over.]  But I believe a bigger reason black women don’t work out is because it’s boring and the gym is inconvenient and expensive so they get frustrated and quit. And unlike our white female counterparts, many of which grew up playing volleyball, lacrosse, and softball or biking and hiking with their families, we don’t as often develop a love for activity earlyon. In many other cases, we simply don’t have the money to pursue interests like dance classes which can be expensive.

I’m quite aware that there are plenty of black girls who workout doing any number of things—I have friends in other cities who practice bikram yoga or go on long distance bike rides etc.— but the numbers are so disproportionately low, it’s difficult for us to run into each other the natural way and build a support system. That’s why I think we need to get more of our little girls into organized sports.

I was lucky enough to grow up in a very rural setting and there was no shortage of space and opportunity to get physical. I was a tomboy as a child and was constantly active and stayed fit for most of my life. But what of young girls who live in the inner city where there’s not open space? Where there are food desserts and, in many cases, a need for caretakers to buy food that stretches rather than that which nourishes?

Boys in those same surroundings are encouraged to play basketball or baseball, why not get the girls involved? Maybe then we would have girls playing against the guys rather than going out to the basketball courts just to watch and flirt (not that there’s anything wrong with that!) and get thicker by the second.

We have to make getting our girls involved in sports a priority. Encouraging girls to play sports at an early age helps them develop a love for movement that can be sustained even if they only pursue sports as a hobby. That way, if they gain weight as an adult, to get fit again, they will likely find it natural to return to some of the activities they used to love. We all could stand to reevaluate the amount of physical activity we get and ways that we can make the experience more enjoyable.

In the meantime, I am continuing to look for a twenty-something black female workout partner in DC (preferably someone who lives in the cityand wants to rollerblade or bike). If anyone reading this blog is interested don’t hesitate to contact me.

J Danielle is a professional speechwriter and media coach and the blogger behind the media analysis site MediaSTRUT. She can be reached at mediastrut@gmail.com

We will get to back to heavy topics tomorrow. I need a light day and perhaps you do too.

I’ve been working on trying to bring some sparkle and shine into my life. How can I put a little more sunshine into my day to day? Spring is allegedly coming soon (Insha’Allah! Deo volente! Please, Lawd, PLEASE!), which always bring some beautiful newness. But I have to do my part as well.

When I’m not being a “desexualized” ball-busting militant feminist, as I have been called, I am also a lover of most things stereotypically girly.  For the past couple of years, my mother (hi Mom!) has been complaining about young women and their lack of glamour. She says we have basically traded it for wearing super revealing clothes and nude lip gloss that “looks like you’ve been eating fried chicken“.  Ooh, and don’t get Mama Toldja started on weaves. She said she’s going to write a book called Girl, Take That Sh!t Off Of Your Head, Because You Look Crazy. I suggested that the title may be a bit much, but she says it’s “catchy“.

Even though I’ve always been a makeup girl, I do want to get that old thing back. I’m somewhat bohemian and I don’t see that going totally out the window, but I do have an appreciation for old-school glamour. Like those pictures of Black folks taking Sunday strolls in Harlem before it was littered with Jim Jones’ motley crue of porch monkeys and a bunch of useless gentrifiers.

The original Boho Baps.

I need a camera phone picture intervention. Please help me.

I’ve started doing some new stuff with my makeup. I used to be afraid of wearing bright colored lipsticks, for fear of looking like a late-80’s Fashion Fair model. (BTW: No shade to the girls still doing the 80′s/90′s aesthetic, but um…*checks watch*…how much longer is this trend gonna last?) I’m also obsessing over slips and ladylike sun dresses. If you can point me in the direction of some lovely, inexpensive ones, I will love you forever.

Another layer of the shiny, sparkly mission: enjoying life. Taking advantage of the things at my feet and not focusing all my energy on the things that lie beyond my immediate grasp. I will only be in my 20′s in New York for five to eight more years (depending if you follow the regular calendar, or the one in my soul). I gotta make the best of all this flash and footloose fancy freedom, especially before little Thelonious Malik is born. I’m on a mission to have as much fun as possible right about now. Not at the expense of my work or my pursuit of a future, mind you. But I wouldn’t recommend taking on the whole militant Black feminist (or feminist Black militant) lifestyle if you can’t make some time for a little fun and occasional debauchery. So I’m playing with makeup, draping myself in lacy things, spending time with awesome new friends AND I got me a tennis racket (Sir Fabulous Himself and I are gonna be the Serena and Venus of Bed Stuy, just you watch).

Newness, fun, joy and light abound, because I chose to let them in. What about you? What sort of things are you doing right now, or have you done in the past, to bring some added pleasures into your life? What would you like to do? Even though I wager most of the menfolk didn’t make it this far in the post, I hope those who did have some ideas too!

HAPPY BLACK GIRL DAY!

*jazz hands*

*red, black and green glitter toss*

As this is now an official monthly occurrence (we ladies deserve something good on a monthly basis, am I right? Hi-YO!), I’m still toying around with what my site’s contribution will be. This month, I realized I made a pretty grievous error in scheduling HBD on National Women and Girls HIV Awareness Day. But then it hit me: what a great opportunity to spotlight some Happy Black Girls who are doing some TREMENDOUS work for the cause of KEEPING Black Girls Happy!

From left: Karyn and Luvvie aka Shiki Fierce aka She Got A Lot Of Names

Good health certainly makes for Happy(er) Black Girls, and Luvvie Ajayi and Karyn Watkins are working hard to make that happen.  From what started last year as a call for Black female bloggers to to spread awareness via a widget on their sites has become an organization of women based in Chicago with affiliates all across the country.

Via the official website:

The Red Pump Project is now a national initiative that is doing work on the ground and online to ensure that women are empowered with knowledge about HIV/AIDS and the issues surrounding it. We have 30 ambassadors in 20 states “Rocking the Red Pump” to raise awareness about the impact of HIV/AIDS on women & girls.

Chicagoans can check out the Red Pump Project’s inaugural fashion show “Rock the RED: Bold. Fashion. Awareness” on March 25th. The event will honor legendary HIV/AIDS activist Rae Lewis Thornton. Also, connect with the Project via Facebook and Twitter. I think we are witnessing the start of something very big and I’m excited for these girls and their Red Pump posse. Luvvie and Karyn are my fellow Whitney Young alums and it’s so dope to see the beautiful, inspiring women they have become. Kudos to The Red Pump Project for trying to keep Black girls happy and SAFE!

While HIV/AIDS is a weighty subject, there is great HAPPY to be found in taking an active stance against the forces that threaten us. Happy Black Girls don’t rock rose colored glasses; they rock condoms!* They understand the role they must play in continuing their Happy by protecting themselves. And if this illness has already found it’s way in, then they commit themselves to taking good care of themselves and protecting the lives of others through disclosure. A diagnosis doesn’t have to be the end of your life, but I’m sure those who’ve gotten that news would BEG you to safeguard yourself so that you may have a much easier time being a Happy Black Girl. </message>

Happy Black Girl Day will be popping on Twitter, so please follow me and join in the fun! Leave a link to your HBGD blog post in the comments or drop me an email so I can send folks your way.

To end this on a light and shiny note, here is a song dedication to all my HBGs out there. Enjoy your day and spread love!

As of 4PM EST, these are the bloggers who are participating in HBGD today: (I will update this throughout the day):

Live Unchained

What About Our Daughters

Swagga of a College Kidd

The Lauren Show

The Glamazon Chronicles

Blacktating

For Colored Girls

ChellBellz

Super Hussy

Recklessly Yours

HotSauce

Pseudo Celeb

Elle Monah

Lelaphant Rose

DC District Diva

SugaHoney

LovelyOne80

Ase Ire

HAPPY BLACK GIRL DAY!

peace.

Sister Toldja

*-Or abstinence or monogamy or whatever method of protection they choose. I personally recommend condoms if you ain’t married or trying to make a baby, but that’s just me.

My struggle with my weight has been well documented here and has been a constant subject of conversation amongst my family and friends, who have been (mostly) supportive. I haven’t offered any updates here in a while, but I’ve gotten a few questions from readers about it lately. I’m over the biggest physical hurdle. I started my serious diet and exercise overhaul in January of 2008. In these two years, I have lost almost 60 pounds. I feel distant enough from my heaviest weight to feel that I won’t get there again. Exercise has been a constant part of my life for two years and I have demonstrated my ability to make healthy eating choices *most* of the time. I have medium clothes hanging in my closet for the first time since middle school.

Spring 2007: the wig was just for fun, btw. I do not endorse ratchet ass wigs.

The battle is not hardly over. It’s less about the 10 or 15 pounds I’d still like to drop (I got in a tankini last summer; 2010 is begging for bikini action) than it it is about adjusting to life at a different size. When most of us think about changing our bodies, be it losing, gaining and/or surgical enhancement, we tend to think about how much greener life is on the other side of the fence. And yes, weight loss aspirants, I will tell you that my life is much greener. Some women like being big. Some embrace it out of fear or laziness or out of the ability to love themselves unconditionally. As I said before, I always hated it. I hated everything about it.

Spring 2008

I’m happy because I’m closer to where I want to be and also, because I did it the right way. I’m proud of myself. My body is not just my temple, it’s my creation. My pallet where I create not just with colors and textures, but now with muscle tone and new curves. But there has been a very complicated reconciling of these new image. I can’t honestly say that I always know what I see when I see myself. I’m not a small woman, I don’t think I’m a very big one. My stature and build (broad shoulders, large bust) will pretty much keep me from being a little thing, which was never an aspiration of mine anyway. They do, however, keep me closer to large-ness than I’d like to be.

Fall 2008: We were too excited about those segway cops, btw. HU!

In some ways, I still think from the perspective of a big girl, while being alternately deeply afraid that people still see me as one. It’s weird, because I can name a few women who are larger than me who I do not consider to be “big girls”, but because I was one myself for some years, I still tend to see myself in that category. I’ve also had to process that not being fat is not an instant ticket to happiness or a guarantee of perceived beauty by outsiders. I get treated differently by some big women then I did in the past. It was a sisterhood that I never wanted to be a part of, but I did embrace the feelings of solidarity. I’ve made a few comments around larger women that got the serious side eye, not realizing that I wasn’t allowed to speak as an insider any more.

I’ve arrived at a place where my personal feelings of beauty and comfort are…good. They are great, actually. That’s not to say I’m not without insecurity. There are days when I look in the mirror and I see the same thing I saw in 2007: a big person. There are moments when I worry about how men perceive my size. That’s wack, but it’s the truth. There are dark moments in this fight. I don’t know anyone else who has had a similar walk to mine. The folks who have been thin can’t understand and the ones trying to still lose weight don’t want to hear about how it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

December 2009: I rediscovered my real hair color as well. For now.

All that to say that losing weight is not just a matter of “I’ll work out, I’ll eat better, everything will be good.” I wish someone had braced me for the changing self-image and new issues that came with my new body, but I do feel that the pros have far outweighed the cons. If this is something you are interested in doing, just know that it may bring with it more than you expected. Brace yourself, surround yourself with people who support your goals with love and give it your all! If you want it, it shall be yours!

**I want other Black women to be healthy and, moreover, happy. I’m glad I’ve been able to inspire and encourage my sisters (and others). I also know that my pursuit of svelteness has made a few people uncomfortable. To that, I can only say that my choice of what is right for me has always been a reflection of what I wanted from and for myself and not a commentary on anyone else. Peace to you if this is your journey, peace if it is not, **

It just seems like unplanned/poorly planned youth pregnancy is all around me lately. Many of you have heard about the 115 (ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN!) students at Chicago’s Robeson High School who are pregnant or have children at home. According to CBS 2 News, this is 1 in every 7 Robeson girls. The speculation behind the rash number of teen mothers is even more depressing than the statistic:

“It can be a lot of things that are happening in the home or not happening in the home, if you will,” Morrow said. Absentee fathers are another factor, he said.

“If I had a baby, I’ll have someone love me for me”

LaDonna Denson and two other Robeson students say parents not talking to teens and, in some cases, the pursuit of public assistance also factor into the pregnancies.

Robeson is providing parenting classes this year and is building a day care center across the street from the school for use next year. The principal, himself born to a teen mother, is committed to keeping the girls “thinking about graduation” and should be commended for his efforts. However, I can’t help but to wonder what Robeson was doing BEFORE the spike in student pregnancy. As a Chicago Public Schools alumna, I can’t say that I recall many pregnancy prevention efforts in my own high school. That could be my memory failing or the fact that I went to an elite school and there may have been some assumption that we didn’t require as much because we were all expected to go to college immediately after graduation. There were definitely girls who had children, though.

I have two young ladies in my life, aged 19 and 21, who recently came to me for advice upon finding out that they are unexpectedly pregnant. To paraphrase the Bill Cosby-esque rant my mother went on when I shared this with her, a pregnancy can only be so unexpected if you DONT USE A CONDOM. One of the girls admits to her negligance (classic story of “the boyfriend doesn’t like them”, made worse by the fact that she herself seemed ambivalent about the difference between raw and protected sex); the other claimed that the protection failed. Now, I’m not saying she’s lying, BUT the streets are telling of a condom failure rate waaaaay higher than what you see on the back of a Trojan box.

Young pregnancy is not a death sentence, nor does it mean that you can’t finish school and be the best whatever it is you wanted to be. However, it certainly makes life a lot harder. Furthermore, we have a problem when girls are having babies because they want to be loved, they want to get welfare or because they feel that repeating the generational cycle of early motherhood is their fate. A child shouldn’t be born “just because”. I think a lot of children I see daily are running around reflecting the tension, disappointment and anger surrounding their births. I see mothers who obviously regret their choices taking their frustrations out on children who didn’t ask to be born and who could have been prevented had the parents just been responsible.

I realize this is a delicate subject because of the religious piece that exists for many people. I’ll be honest and say that I’m pro-choice and that my decision to take that stance is not informed or influenced by the Bible or any other religious text or doctrine. Though I do choose to leave religion out of my argument, I can’t understand why people who feel that abortion is immoral have no problem with having sex before marriage. I also acknowledge that there is a thin line between being pro-choice and anti-teen motherhood. So much as I support a girl’s right to choose an abortion, I have to accept her right to choose otherwise. However, it’s devastating to see the effects on the community at large when these irresponsible and sometimes inconsiderate people feel that having a kid is as simple as having an idea.

One of the girls was shocked when I told her that if I became pregnant today (which I would not let happen without a hell of a prevention fight) that I wouldn’t keep the pregnancy. I’m not ready and the fact that I am 24, 25 and have a job doesn’t mean that I have to be. The Black community has embraced this “A strong Black mother can do it all by herself” pathology and I am not with it. Perhaps I could make it work at this point, but I’m not gonna find out until I am ready.

Now, if you have a story on deck about the girl who had quadruplets when she was 9 and now she’s the owner of a Fortune 500 buisness, don’t feel compelled to share it. We all know someone who was a teen or young mother and came out on top. No one is saying that all teen mothers are lifelong welfare recipients and have terribly unloved children running around. But I think that we can all agree that statistics (have a blast with them here) and experience has shown most of us that teen pregnancy is something that should be prevented at all costs.

What disturbs me most is that there are so many methods for preventing pregnancy that are readily availible in large urban cities like Chicago. The abortion clinic shouldn’t even have to be an option. And the BIGGEST issue, for me at least, is the idea that people are so cavalier about unprotected sex! How is a heightened level of sexual pleasure worth risking your life? A baby is hardly the worst thing that can happen when you weigh the possibility of getting HIV or even herpes. But mostly HI freaking V. The virus that causes AIDS. AIDS. AIDS! Is that not frightnening to people? Do folks think AIDS is too busy in Africa, as the media may have you believe ALL Africans have it, to come terminate a few Brooklyn girls?

We’ve got to do better. We have to step up our mentorship efforts and be the voice of reason in some of these young people’s lives, because many of them are not getting it at home. In addition, even those of us who are full grown need to be a hell of a lot more responsible with our own sexual behavior. AIDS and unwanted pregnancy are knocking down women in their 20s and 30s too. Life is not to be played with. Birth shouldn’t be something that just happens and death, while inevitable, should not be hastened for the pursuit of better sex.

/rant

Nothing I hate more than a raggedy arse man looking like dust tracks on a road who has the nerve to be a public critic of female beauty.

Ok, that’s a lie. There are things I hate more.

I do not usually pass much judgement over people born after 1989, because they aren’t really people yet. However, I hate Soulja Boy. I hate his soul. I hate the alarm clock that wakes up each morning. I hate his breath for flowing through his lungs. I hate the cells in his body for continuing to, er, cellulate or whatever it is that cells do.

But bogus men passing bogus judgements over women is still pretty high on my hate list. I’ve observed it online*, I have observed it on the streets and even amongst friends and former classmates. Everyone has their flavor and everyone has those folks they find to be repugnant. Fine. But it seems that men are guiltier than women when it comes to having insanely skewed self-perception and overly inflated self-esteem.

When I peek at Twitter or walk down the block and see some double-D endowed man talking about a woman’s body or insinuating that some stunning woman “could get it” from him, it irks my soul. Some of y’all men got a LOT of nerve thinking y’all have an inch of space in which to judge in any lane of attractiveness. Perhaps you could discern between toothless crackheads and betoothed ones, but that’s about it.

In fact, unfortunate looking fellas, what SOME of y’all need to do is get to working out. I don’t mean your body (even though a ripped physique will redeem you in the eyes of some women), I mean your attitude. Some of y’all need to do some PERSONALITY PUSHUPS.

Yes, you may use that, just credit it back to me. Thanks.

Personality pushups. Own the knowledge that God made dirt, dirt don’t hurt, but you look like it and it ain’t helping you pull no skirts. Realize that you really aren’t in a place to be Judgey McJudgerton when it comes to the feminine form. Work on your attitude. Learn to tell a bomb ass joke. Be a good listner. Have intelligent things to say. Be nice to children and the elderly. Get that personality in top flight shape so that no one will notice the less than stellar things going on between the top of your head and the soles of your feet.

I’d totally name some famous examples of fellas who have mastered the personality pushup, but I won’t. Why? Because when you have a GREAT personality, what kind of evil jerk would publicly talk about how you look?

See, it works!

However, I WILL give an example of some folks who could use a few hours in the genteel gym:

50 Cent is an asshole, which he only gets away with because he has money and a lot of female AND male groupies seem to think that is important. As I am not blinded by that sort of thing, I see him for exactly what he is physically: a homo thug version of McGruff the crime dog. Meow! Ruff!

You again! Damn your essence! Three cuts in your eyebrows trying to wild out. Save the cuts for your wrists and put your lights out….see, I can be a rapper too. That sounded like a Drake line! Or…a Kia Shine line? How confusing.

Oh sh!t! I never heard anything about Fergie’s personality, but her cultural pillaging/terrible music put her on my chopping block. Photoshop has served her beautifully in magazines, but in reality, her face looks like Madonna’s arms. I love you Madge, and I am sorry to disrespect your arms that way.

And for all you nasty street-scum of questionable repute (and hygiene): I think SOME of you menfolk would do better to hand out roses or perhaps cookies on the street to women passing by. Maybe cakes. Strawberry shortcakes made with butter you churned yourself and strawberries from your own strawberry patch. And you may want to print out pictures of yourself churning said butter and picking those berries. And offer to donate $1 for every cake handed out to the Children’s Aid Society. This and ONLY this will undue the years of uglyfaced man judging uninterested women verballyness that you have clocked.

And don’t forget your pushups.

*-Clearly, men are not the only ones guilty of this. A lot of bloggers and blog commenters ought to be ASHAMED for the things they say about other women. Most of these broads look more like Tameka Raymond (who I think is pretty, natch) than Beyonce. Y’all roast a “regular” sister to hell in one breath and turn around and complain about the constant stream of mixed-looking chicks in the Negro media. What do you broads want?

The humidity of summer is dreadful for my hair. Perfectly styled curls turn to large cotton balls after a few minutes in the sun. The fall offers brief solace, only to be followed by freezing temperatures and the accompanying hair breakage and drying of winter. Enter nuNAAT, a beauty company from Brazil (known for it’s superior hair products) with remedies from the Amazon!

Thick and luscious nuNAAT cream is suitable for use as a daily or deep conditioner and comes in a number of luxurious formulas designed to serve all hair types: Pitanga for thin hair, Buriti for dyed and discolored hair, Aloe Vera for curly/wavy hair, Brazil Nut for dry hair with split ends and Cupuacu for extra dry hair. These products are for use with natural or relaxed hair of varying textures and lengths

When I was contacted by the good folks at KMR Communications with the opportunity to gift a reader with a selection from the nuNAAT line of hair products, I immediately asked that I have the opportunity to try them for myself first. Not out of greed, friends. But because I’m not trying to get blamed for someone losing her hair to the Rio or Copa Hair System of 2009! I got 99 problems, the litigious society can’t be one of them.

After dying, frying and lying my hair to the side all summer, my hair was SUPER dry, so was very eager to try the nuNAAT Cream Cupuacu for Extra Dry Hair and the NAAT Serum for fighting frizz. The Cupuacu cream had a pleasant smell, but wasn’t as fragrant as a lot of other conditioners. I was intially disappointed, until I remembered how many conditioners I have tried that smelled like roses and left my hair feeling like thorns.

The package calls for leaving the conditioner in for 5-10 minutes, but my frizzy hair girls know that you gotta deep condition a bit longer than that. It didn’t take much of the Cream to saturate my entire head, which was a a plus, as I walked around the streets of Bed Stuy for about two hours running errands with conditioner in my hair. When I finally rinsed and dried, my hair was so soft and manageable! My usual 4-5 varying curl patterns had normalized quite a bit and my tresses were smooth to the touch. I used a bit of the NAAT Serum all over and hit my hair with the blow dryer. I was excited to end up with a head of luxurious curls. I was even MORE excited when I found out that nuNAAT products run about $5-8 dollars and are widely available in beauty supplies and salons allover the country.

One lucky TBS reader will get his or her own chance to try a nuNAAT cream of their choosing. All you gotta do is submit a tale of your own hair woe and the most tragic one will be gifted with his or her own full-sized nuNAAT cream conditioner! Send your stories to contest@thebeautifulstruggler.com no later than 11:59PM on Thursday, September 17, 2009. The winning story will be announced on Monday, September 21st. Good luck!

Six days of consecutive drinking/partying/bar hopping/funky weather have me looking every sort of crazy today. My purse is at war with my earrings and my dress and I don’t have a justification for wearing red ballet flats, they are just here. Help me, help me. Please.

The other day, I looked at this old picture of myself on Facebook. It’s from 2005:

I deleted and untagged many of my worst “Before” photos and seeing this one horrified me. It horrified me to the point where I have to post a picture of me to counteract it:

And I STILL feel the need to point out that this pic is from January, that I’ve lost a couple of pounds since then and that I am a bit more toned.

Why I didn’t just remove the old picture from Facebook when I rediscovered it, I’m not sure. But I commented on there “FAT! OMG!”. As FB users know, when someone comments on a picture that you have commented on previously, you receive a notification. So the six friends who wrote nice things on this pic four years ago were informed of my new comment. I then received the following message from a dear friend. It really made me think about some things and I thought it was worth sharing:

Dearest Toldja,

Love you much!!!

I have been worrying for a while that I was becoming a “fat shamer” and completely obsessed with weight (mine most especially). My weight has been the single most defining challenge and issue of my life to date. I have always been obsessed with it, but it is only recently that I took any positive steps to changing it with any success.

To answer my friend’s first questions…I think I am an attractive woman. Actually, I know that I am. Is gorgeous the word I would use for myself? Not really. I have my ego tripping days, but there are days when I look at myself and I feel like I look like a man. I also think that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. So what I think about how I look matters a hell of a lot to me, but not so much to anyone else. Now, how I project my feelings about my looks me affect how other folks see me, but that’s a long conversation in another direction.

I have never wanted to make anyone who reads this blog or calls me a friend/sister/comrade feel bad about their weight in talking about my personal struggle. This is simply who I am at this point in my life. I hate how I looked in the past and I will never deny that. In fact, the only way I would conceivably go back and say 237 pound Toldja wasn’t so bad after all is if I was to become 337 pound Toldja or somehow become disabled (God forbid and God forbid). But even though my words appear on an internet site that I maintain, my feelings about my body are not to be interpreted as social commentary.

…except that they are, aren’t they? Well, when I talk about being fat then or feeling fat now, I am not intending to cast judgement on anyone but Sister Toldja. As I said, this has been the fight of my life. For most of my days, I have hated the way that I look. It is only in this past year that I have started truly feeling good about my body and I am still not 100% there yet, in terms of self-acceptance. And who’s to say I ever will be? I am still an American woman, still subject to the beauty and fashion industry’s decision to declare 99% of the female population less than beautiful.

I admire body positive women like Mo’Nique and Beth Ditto, even though it is hard for me to sometimes see past the potential health risks associated with their sizes. I admire any woman who feels good about who she is in spite of any messages she receives to the contrary. And I especially admire women who have recognized things they didn’t like about themselves and took a positive, healthy approach to improving them. I hope that despite my obvious flaws that I can serve as such a role model to other women. I do know that some of the women in my life have been making amazing strides to do as I have and take control over their weight and I know that is the case for some of the readers of this blog as well.

The battle is not won for me yet. I’m still chasing these last few pounds and dress sizes off of me. But I want you, dear friend and dear readers, to know that I DO recognize how far I have come and that I AM very proud of myself. After years of crash diets, pills, binging and purging, binging and NOT purging and just ignoring my health all together, I can say that eat well and exercise damn near every day of the week. That’s whats up! That’s dope! I’m the bess, I deeeed it. But I still have a gut, a flat ass and breasts that get on my last nerve. I still obsess over other women’s bodies and bemoan my inadequacies-perceived or real.

Like most folks, I don’t judge other women’s bodies by the same standards I have for my own. I can name a number of women who are much larger than I (or very slender without curves) who I find to be enviably gorgeous. But when it comes to myself, there are some very specific physical ideals that I am going to push myself to reach. And I don’t think it’s a bad thing, per say. I don’t hate how I look and I don’t feel bad about myself most days. I realize that there is work to be done and I will continue to do it. And I’ll love myself in the meantime.

I did remove my comment from that picture and I will try my best to refrain from doing things that will make other folks feel bad or insecure about themselves. However, I don’t think I’ll soon be able to look at all the pictures of myself from “before” and feel anything other than repugnance. I’ll maintain that extra weight doesn’t look good on me like it does on some women and I won’t be able to look past all of the painful memories that were shaped by my appearance. I won’t soon forget being too fat to find many dates in high school and college (whether it was the weight itself, the resulting lack of self-confidence from the issues with the weight or a combination of all the both that made me undesirable). And this is why I will remain vigilant to keep losing weight, especially given that I have not had a child yet and will of course have to gain weight during pregnancy.

Fat shaming has worked for me. Shaming my own fat, not anyone else’s, that is. By being horrified at my past weight, I’ve been able to get further and further away from it. If I accept old Fat Toldja, I feel like I am leaving the door open for her to come back. By putting my efforts in a public space, I have created an important sense of accountability. I hope that it has not been at the expense of others. I’m not a Christian, but there is a phrase I’ve heard that resounds with me: “We all fall short of the glory“. And I hope that my falling short hasn’t caused anyone any undue pain.

Best,
Sister Toldja

I opened a picture message last night from a dear friend, expecting to see something humorous and ignant from her daily travels or a silly forward. Instead, it was a photograph of a handsome young man captioned “Not sure where this guy lives, but u can never be 2 careful. Be on the lookout for this dude, he goes by the name Travis or Tavaris. He’s been spreading HIV and giving it to a lot of females…”

Wow. Wow. Wow, on so many levels.

My first thought was, should I forward this to people? Certainly, someone who is knowingly spreading HIV to women has no right to privacy. But what if this man isn’t infected, or if he unwittingly passed the virus to people? What if this is just a nasty, nasty joke or the work of a spurned lover? What if someone he slept with contracted HIV from someone else and is erroneously attributing her infection to him?
We’ve come a long way with this virus, and not necessarily in a good way. While most people are no longer at the point where they are afriad to touch or have contact with HIV and AIDS infected persons, I don’t know how I feel about people sending text messages like HIV infection is gossip fodder.

Is this appropriate? Is it okay? If you knew the person in question was, in fact, infected, is it ethical to send his picture out near and far to warn other potential partners?

Speaking of “not sure I want this via text” messages, how do you feel about learning of deaths and illnesses that way? In the past year, I have gotten a few messages asking me to pray for folks (one who was gravelly ill and later passed, the other who had appendicitis) who were hospitalized before anyone could call me and tell me this on the phone. As someone may check a text message whilst driving, working or even having sex (I mean, I haven’t, but I’m sure someone out there has…wait, yes I have *shame*), it just seems under ill advise to send such potentially disturibing info that way.

Where are we going as a society where death, HIV and tragedy are announced in the same way we’d let someone know we were running late for dinner? In addition to texts, we now have Facebook and Twitter updates from folks announcing their husband left them or they might be knocked up. WTF?

If you have Twitter, chances are your ass has a phone. Dust that sucker off and CALL the important people in your life when something is up. And if you have text messaging, then THE PHONE IS ALREADY IN YOUR HAND!

That said, I think it’s time to turh the foolery on it’s head. I’m having a little contest. The person who will post the most ridiculously inappropriate Facebook or Twitter status and submits proof to me by Friday, April 3rd at 12:00AM will win a cool prize. Submit links to your foolishness to contest@thebeautifulstruggler.com.

Encouraging bad habits since 2006,
Sister Toldja

Today is National Women and Girls HIV/AIDS Awareness Day. Two very dope bloggers, Luuvie and Karyn, created The Red Pump Project to spread continued awareness of the tragedy of HIV/AIDS, which is now the leading cause of death for Black women between the ages of 25-34. There are dozens of female bloggers rocking Luuvie’s red pump on their sites today, so check out the Red Pump Project for a complete list, as well as loads of information about the fight against this disease.

You can purchase Red Pump gear here and there will also be two Red Pump happy hours today: one in Chicago hosted by Luuvie and one in Kansas City hosted by GlamStarr. Check out the Red Pump website for more deets and go support!

To get on my personal soapbox, I just don’t understand why you mofos keep having unprotected sex. That’s just effing stupid. While I don’t wish to see anyone ravaged by AIDS, I have a lot more sympathy for a spouse or long-time partner who gets the illness from a cheating lover than I do some 30 year old who eschews protected sex because “raw feels better.” That shit doesn’t make any sense! I came into my womanhood in Washington DC, a city with staggering HIV/AIDS infection rates. I believe that helped to cultivate the needed fear to keep me from jeopardizing my health by indulging in raw sex.

That “Lets go get tested together” rubbish isn’t flying for me. Getting tested together is great, but it don’t mean you should give up using those rubbers! I’m not ditching the condoms until I get married…and even then, I’ll still be a bit afraid and nervous. But for people to think that they little 20-something boo piece and them are sooo in love and sooo faithful is just absurd.

They have these stories every year about young women who are “betrayed by love” and catch HIV from men who sell them wolf tickets about monogamy and/or are already infected. There comes a point when you have to decide that you cannot let your future ride on human frailty. I realize that’s a choice we all make when we decide to have children or get married, but let that choice come with a better reason than “I just wanna do it raw.” If we all get in the habit of using condoms all the time, perhaps those cheating men and women amongst us will get in that same habit and we can all be safer.

I know I’m just rambling a bit, but I really just want people to value themselves more and realize how serious this AIDS shit is. Shoot, women are dying of cervical cancer from HPV. Sex is a damn killer, but it can be so good and so safe if you just WRAP IT UP! Condoms aren’t fool proof, but not using them is proof that you are a fool.

*Poetry Snap*

And now, the ill statistics:

HIV/AIDS & Women in the United States
————————————————
*There are approximately 1.1 million people living with HIV/AIDS in the U.S. & almost 280,000 are women

*In 2006, there were 15,000 new HIV infections and 9,801 AIDS cases diagnosed among women

*There were 3,784 deaths among women with AIDS in 2006

*Among those who are HIV positive, 35% of women were tested for HIV late in their illness (diagnosed with AIDS within one year of testing positive)

*HIV is the 5th leading cause of death in women in the United States, ages 25-44

*High-risk heterosexual contact is the source of 80% of these newly diagnosed infections in women

*According to a CDC study of more than 19,500 patients with HIV in 10 US cities, women were slightly less likely than men to receive prescriptions for the most effective treatments for HIV infection

*Women with AIDS made up an increasing part of the epidemic. In 1992, women accounted for an estimated 14% of adults and adolescents living with AIDS in the 50 states and the District of Columbia. By the end of 2005, this proportion had grown to 23%

*From the beginning of the epidemic through 2005, almost 86,000 women have died of AIDS and AIDS-related complications.

*The largest number of HIV/AIDS diagnoses during recent years was for women aged 15–39

HIV/AIDS & Minority Women
———————————–
HIV/AIDS disproportionately affects minority women in the United States. According to the 2005 census, Black and Latina women represent 24% of all US women combined, but account for 82% of the estimated total of AIDS diagnoses for women in 2005.

HIV is:

*the leading cause of death for black women (including African American women) aged 25–34 years.

*the 3rd leading cause of death for black women aged 35–44 years.

*the 4th leading cause of death for black women aged 45–54 years.

*the 4th leading cause of death for Latina women aged 35–44 years.

*The only diseases causing more deaths of women were cancer and heart disease

*The rate of AIDS diagnosis for black women was approximately 23 times the rate for white women and 4 times the rate for Latina women

*In 2006, teen girls represented 39% of AIDS cases reported among 13–19 year-olds. Black teens represented 69% of cases reported among 13–19 year-olds; Latino teens represented 19%

These statistics were pulled from The Center for Disease Control’s website and the Kaiser Family Foundation’s Fact Sheets (which cited the CDC).

Don’t be a fool,
Sister Toldja