In an act of defiant self-love, and in the interest of not spending another minute aiding the thoughts in my head that tell me my weight and my self worth are inextricably connected, I have joined a gym (with a pool!!!) and I have taken the batteries out of my scale. I’m going to move in ways that feel good, in ways that ease my chronic pain, and in ways that make me faster and stronger and more ready for my future. I give a damn about how I feel, I will dismantle giving a damn about a number that means absolutely nothing.
“But confusingly, misogynists are sometimes men who speak softly and eat vegan and say “a woman’s sexual freedom is an essential component to her liberation. So come here.” It’s a tricky world out there. And while I’d prefer a critical approach to gender from men I elect, read and even bed, in my experience, the so-called feminist men I’ve met deep down have not been less antagonistic or bigoted toward women. What I see over and over again is misogyny in sheep’s clothing, and at this point, I would rather see wolves as wolves.”—