Waiting for the Mean Girl

Image by Jennifer Collins

Image by Jennifer Collins

I see how my little girl tackles new and challenging things with gusto.  I have seen her overcome fears.  I have seen her lead others.  I have seen her with her friends and I have seen her kindness to strangers.  I have seen how she looks in the mirror at herself with a radiant smile as she proclaims to me that she feels beautiful.  I have seen her walk into both familiar and unfamiliar situations with pride and confidence and excitement.  I see a radiant and happy child each and every time I see my daughter.

But I am waiting.

I am waiting for the day that my little girl comes home in tears because someone told her something other than what she has come to believe about herself. I am praying that I can help her pick up the pieces of the revelation that the world may not be as she has been taught by her parents.

Click here to read the rest of this entry by Jennifer Collins on Girl Body Pride. 

The #NudeAwakening on Girl Body Pride

Image source: The Chicago Tribune

Image source: The Chicago Tribune

Not-so-Fine Print: I am not black. I am a first-generation Mexican-American with olive skin, a giant ass, hips for days, and the kind of kinky curls (and related teen angst) that have me stopping kinky-haired little girls and their mamas in public just to tell them how beautiful they are because no one did that for me. That being said, I’m also not white and Nude (as defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary, only applies to me when I’m buck nekkid…I think. I can’t seem to get beyond the Running in Circles loop the two opposing definitions create in and of themselves.

Click here to read the rest of my article on Girl Body Pride.

Blogging Bravely

Art by Pauline Campos

Art by Pauline Campos

Everything I write, I delete.

I don’t know how to press publish anymore.

It feels like everything worthy of being said is being said by others and being said better than I ever could.

I’m blog-blocking myself.

It’s like I’ve forgotten how to blog honestly, the way I used to, because I’m paralysed by who will read it.

to read the rest of this entry by Tanis Miller on Girl Body Pride


Flaw on Girl Body Pride

Despite the history of my congenital heart defect, when I tell people about my heart surgery, people give me the look: the one where they see me and assume I needed a bypass. I suddenly speak louder, “I was born with a congenital heart defect. I had surgery at one and at four. Over the course of this year, I learned that I needed surgery again.” Then I go on to dispel any beliefs that my chubby body was the reason for my bad heart.

Click here to read the rest of this post by Shoshana Kohn on Girl Body Pride

#Curvy: An Ode to Instagram

...But search for a curvy girl

And commit an insta– sin.

Cause seeing a curvy girl

Will make the mainstream cringe

Instagram, oh instagram

What makes you fear us so?

Cuz what? We’ll take over?

And rule the insta-hos?


Click here to read the rest of this poem by Margaret Elysia Garcia on Girl Body Pride. 

Family: The Root of All Shame

There is no winning a fat war with a grandmother. And I wondered every time since I’m BUILT EXACTLY LIKE HER whether she did that to us just because it was done to her. No malice, just the mode of operation for her generation and her family. But I’ve seen those pictures of her youth and all her cousins. That’s one helluva stout steady bunch of Scottswomen on that side. They all died in their 50s of diabetes, for goodness sakes. What would make her go for the attack? At least she did it with an incredibly cute New York accent.

Click here to read the rest of this piece by Margaret Elysia Garcia on Girl Body Pride.