I’m hitting the point in the semester where things begin to close. I don’t actually finish my placement until mid-July, but everyone around me is wrapping up, and it’s gotten me reflecting. 

This has been the hardest year of my life. I have grown and stretched and evolved in ways I am still attempting to comprehend. It has been the hardest year of my life; but it’s also been the most humbling; the most transformative; the most raw. 

My placement played a very large role in all of this. It has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done; I also might be pretty damn good at it. 

Bring it on, final year ✨

Journal Entry


This smile came about two minutes after I cried because I felt too uncomfortable in my body to be photographed. It feels very similar to how I’ve been experiencing the last month or so. Ups and downs. Despair and joy. I’m yo-yoing constantly between using my anxiety to fuel an extreme amount of work and succumbing to mental exhaustion by rooting myself to my bed or other comfy surface in my apartment. I’m going and going and going, and it never seems to stop. Even when I stop. Everything else around me is still moving, ready for me to jump back in and freak out about the things that zoomed right by me that I now have to catch up to. It’s not quite like the eye of a storm, when the center is calm. My center doesn’t know calm. So as I sit here, trying to take a Sunday to myself, to exist and be and not do, my brain is still elsewhere. But I will keep fighting it. I will keep showing up. Because that’s really all that I can do. 

“Lessons from a bad day: there’s always tomorrow.”


Take ✌🏼 I posted a much simpler version of this last night, and as soon as I did I realized what it needed. Does that ever happen to you? You think something is finished, or maybe aren’t sure what changes you need to make for it to feel finished, and then you look at it in a different environment and suddenly it’s like DUH. Anyway, happy Friday. Happy holidays to all. Happy pesach. I’m feeling okay today. I hope you are too. 



It astounds me when people take complex, intricate concepts about how different kinds of bodies move through the world on a systemic, collective level and turn it into an argument about “silencing” people in privileged bodies and an insistence that personal discomfort matters more than the violent, abusive reality of living in a marginalized body.

Thin privilege is a concept that fat activists have developed over years of personal and collective experience, gathered data, and a decades-long fight for fat folks to be treated the same as people in smaller bodies. Is it not about your individual experience with your body. It is not about whether or not you’ve ever looked in the mirror and hated your reflection. We’ve ALL experienced that. But we don’t all experience the way that fat people are treated in this world, because spoiler alert: unless you’re fat, you haven’t been there. 
Thin privilege is a demonstrable reality. It is something that fat folks have to contend with every single day. And it’s something that thin folks never have to consider. The next time a fat person calls you out for it, listen.

Thank you to everyone in my HAES community who extended extreme and compassionate labor on the interwebs these last 24 hours. Thank you for using your thin privilege to educate and inform, rather than plugging your ears and singing LALALALA <3 

What elements of thin privilege did I miss? Drop your thoughts below.

Today I turned 24.

Today I turned 24. I had a pretty good day. Here are some things I’ve learned this year:

Having positive memories to look back on is a new and wonderful thing. Thank you to all of the people in my life these last few years for helping me make them.

Gratitude is transformational. Gratitude has helped me shift in the most profound ways. Living life is easier since I began accepting and encouraging gratitude in my life.

Our understanding of how to set boundaries can only extend as far as our experience. Every new relationships brings with it new lessons in what boundaries can, should, and do look like. There is no end to that discovery.

It sometimes feels like we live on two parallel planes of existence, one that moves lightning fast, and the other that feels like it goes on forever.

Thinking you know everything means you know nothing.

I realized the other night that we all must learn how to love.

I will be bad at things. I will still be okay.

Your worth is not measured in your productivity.

Identifying as and coming to terms with the identity of someone who is chronically ill is a journey that takes a very, very long time.

Life is shades of grey, always.

Nuance. Nuance. Nuance.

All I can really do in this short life is spend it trying to find some kind of pleasure or satisfaction. So I’m going to do that.


Post Pittsburg Shooting - Antisemitism in America

Today felt like shit. I’m mentally and emotionally exhausted. All I wanted to do was never get out of bed. I honestly haven’t felt that way since I’ve gotten my meds right. And settling into it was so, so tempting.

Instead, I tried to do something small. I tried to get some fresh air. I tried to put something on my body that I loved to remind myself that I am worthy. I tried, for a moment, to do something that I enjoy in a moment where I didn’t really have the energy to do much of anything.

It didn’t fix things. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t heal. But it did help me keep going. It gave me a moment where I felt like me again. A quiet, simple moment where my smile was genuine and my joy was real. And when I returned home, it didn’t feel quite as hard to sit down and do what needed to be done. And that is my victory for today.

We will keep going. We will survive. We will pull through. Even if it’s only through the ripples of history, stories that we pass on and tradition that runs through our veins. We will always be here. One way or another.


The good-fatty-bad-fatty dichotomy

I don’t do this work so that only fat folks who perform health and wellness are treated with dignity and respect. All people, regardless of body size or health behaviors, are deserving of proper healthcare, equal access to spaces, equal pay, success in their careers, meaningful relationships, and more. A fat person shouldn’t have to justify their existence or their size by telling you that they eat “healthy” and have a regular movement practice. There are no qualifications or parameters to prove you’re worthy. .

Anyone who perpetuates the “good fatty” trope isn’t doing radical social-justice work. They’re just widening what is accepted under the status quo. And there is nothing liberating about perpetuating a system of exclusion simply because it now welcomes a few more people into its fold. .

Demand better from your fav activists. Watch out for healthism. Be cognizant of how your message excludes people based on cultural ideas of what is “good” and what is “bad.” Discern, discern, discern.