SWEETNESS AND WORDS…

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Hi there

 

Thanks for stopping by

 

The attached tease and photos bear a link to my short story of the same name.

 

Please take the time to read and comment.  Thank you :::::::

 

SWEETNESS AND WORDS by Donna Mae Greaves

Miguel watched her walk across the campus as he did every morning. He sat at his usual booth in the coffee shop – coffee, pancakes and eggs in front of him, laptop open and paper folded back to the daily crossword – but none of this ritual would begin until he could see her no more….

THE HEALTHY BBW…

 

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In the minds of the uninitiated, that phrase makes no sense.  It could also be taken and knocked around as a joke, because of course, us big girls have simply eaten ourselves to out sized sexiness.

 

SO WRONG!!!

 

The things that people don’t  take the time to look at are things like genetics, disease – and as a result, medication, mind-set, stress levels, earning power.

 

Genetics points us to family and our predisposition to gaining and keeping weight on.  There was a time when the statement “I come from a big-boned family” would cause raucous laughter in any room.  The fact is that although people refer to the bones, it is a fact that families share everything, including the genes that make our bodies the way that they are.  It ain’t about the bones, but it is about the body.  If your father is tall and solid and your mother is short nd solid, you my darling, will break even in the middle and be solidly medium heighted.  And when I say solid I mean that a waif you will never be. 

 

There are diseases  and medications that bring on the ponds as well.  If you’re asthmatic, you’re going to gain weight more than likely because the meds are usually locked down with steroids.  If you’re diabetic you can either gain or lose poundage.

 

Someone’s mind-set is also a heavy contributor to the poundage, particularly if it is that they are stressed, personally or professionally.  This point is linked though to eating, because stress does make some of us eat, as does depression, anger and anxiety.

 

Our power to earn a decent wage puts us at risk for extra poundage as well.  The more we earn is the better that we can eat.  The lower our wages, the more difficult it is for us to buy the best, hence we fall victim to the mass produced, the fat saturated, the wonder and max sized meals .. basically the things that are moments on the lips and forever on our hips.

 

So we know what ails us.  Do we even take the time to check on what heals and helps us?  They ae in our hands, and at the end of our legs.  Our hands and feet.  Our hands are the instruments that put the food into our mouths and our feet are the things that get us moving.

 

We need to nourish our bodies … not just feed ourselves.  We need to get moving and not just move ourselves.  I’m not saying that we need to run a marathon every other weekend, but we need to get up off our tushes and shake them down the lane or around a park or savannah.  There are times when we don’t realize that we can be and have been our own worse enemies.  We complain about the aches and the pains when we move, but the irony is that the more we move, the less the pains become.

 

The other thing is that when we eat … really eat … we lose the pounds.  Our metabolisms are unable to become lazy when we eat the way we should..  we have become so used to the seesaw that is the diet life that we starve ourselves, not realizing that our bodies become so worried about us that they ‘lovingly’ store the fat in our bodies, just in case we decide not to eat again.  Again, our own faults.

 

You may be wondering why this rant on myself and my BBW sistahs.  It’s simple really.  A photograph was placed on our group wall the other day of a woman … a beautiful woman … with hips that measure more than 8 feet in circumference, and this is something of which she is proud.  If you look at this woman you can see that from her face to her shoulders to her bustline and waist, she is your average full figured woman.  Then there are the hips.  And then her legs go back to average.

 

There is no way on God’s green earth that you can tell me she’s healthy.  She spoke of the thousands photographs that have been taken of her, and the way that people stare at her when she walks down the road with her husband and family.  She speaks of exercising, but her children have to pull her out of her seat at home, and when she does ‘exercise’ she only moves her arms.  That has NOTHING to do with her girth.

 

It frightened me to look at this woman, and in my fear, I thought of all of us full figured women, many of us who believe that being comfortable with your body means sitting on our asses an doing nothing.  As someone who has battled back from 396 lbs about eight years ago to 228 now (And I ain’t done yet!!), I think I have the right to yell at any and all of us when we sit and stew in complacence.  THAT IS NOT AN OPTION.  Nobody says that you have to wafer thin in order to be sexy … particularly since REAL men know that there ain’t nothin wrong with meat on a REAL woman, and guys, you need to get up off your asses and motivate your woman.  What  am saying is that we need to be the best of ourselves  Love your curves, believe in your curves …  Get to steppin and do the work!

 

Okay … I’ve said a mouthful.

 

Please … I beg of you … let’s get started.  It’s for your own good!

WANTED & NEEDED: INTERVENTION

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Today is one of those days when the only thing that comes to mind is the overwhelming need to SCREAM…

It’s been a while since I’ve had one of these … but it feels the way it always does … heavy, annoying, attention-grabbing, yucky.

It’s one of those days when everyone that I speak to tells me that I need to let go of the past. It’s one of those times when people are surprisingly intuitive where I’m concerned and are really concerned that I get out of the funk.

That happens because people can’t properly deal with me in this mood. They expect ‘Happy Deemay’, ‘Bubbly Deemay’, ‘Always willing to help Deemay’. It’s off putting when the person who normally picks up the pieces needs to have her pieces picked up. OH MY GOODNESS!!! WHAT THE HELL ARE WE GONNA DO??! YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THE HEALER NEEDS HEALING???!

Yes, she does. She needs to be held and comforted and talked to and soothed. She needs to hear that someone is there for her, and not just to offer her lip service and platitudes. She needs genuine concern and feeling. Basically … she needs love … agape … filial. She needs her troupes to gather themselves together and be available for her. She needs for them to know this intrinsically and not have to be told.

Where’s the Ben & Jerry’s What-A-Cluster or the bottle of Manischewitz Blackberry that would soothe her savaged soul and ravaged feathers? Where is the phone call that lets her know that someone out there … anywhere is in tune with what ails her, even though she’s still tryng to figure out precisely which one of her situations has brought on the feeling of fucked up blue funk that she is currently waddling through…

Dear Lord, make this crap go away! Whatever the ties that need to be cut, let them be cut. Whatever the fear that lingers then let it leave …. Just free me from this feeling of free-falling into the Land of Melancholia. I can’t live there … I WON’T live there … somebody please, PLEASE come get me…

My hands are reaching skyward, and I’m waiting…

Hurry.