Dear Doctor: No Means No

"I have a new sebaceous cyst on my neck, so I can't get any injections in my neck today," I said, hopping up on the examining table. These nerve block injections had become routine; I had been getting between eight and ten of them in my neck and shoulders every week for over a year.

"What does a sebaceous cyst have to do with injections?" asked Dr. S.

I assumed he hadn't heard the part about the cyst being on my neck, or maybe he figured the cyst affected my chest or pelvic area, like many PCOS-induced symptoms do. So I repeated myself. "It's on my neck, so I can't have injections in my neck. Just my back today".

Dr. S. walked to the back of the table, brandishing a needle. I braced for pain in my upper back, but it didn't come.

"That's my neck!" I squeaked, tears in my eyes. Neck injections always sting, but the shock is what really startled me.

"That didn't hurt so bad, did it?" he laughed.

I gripped my cane and gritted my teeth, waiting for him to finish. 4 injections in my neck, now aching worse that it already had been. Some shots in my shoulders. 

I wordlessly got up from the table and left the clinic. Then the tears came.

This is the second time this doctor has given me injections in an area I did not consent to. This is the second doctor who has performed a procedure without my consent. 

All three times have given me flashbacks of being raped.

When I was raped, my ex did not accept no for an answer. He did what he wanted, for as long as he wanted, and laughed when it was over. The only way these nonconsensual medical experiences differ is they weren't in a bedroom, but a doctor's office. 

I've said this before on this blog and I'll say it again: I won't be the last survivor of rape who's triggered by an idiotic man taking "no" as an invitation. And I sure as hell won't be the last person to speak up for patients' rights, either.

Dear Fatphobes: Eat Shit!

Actually, it's "supposed" to be the other way around: Elaine Yu, a researcher at Massachusetts General Hospital, is conducting a clinical trial to see whether swallowing pills made of thin people's freeze-dried fecal matter will make fat people thin.

You read that right. Fecal matter. Poop. Fatphobes have basically been telling fat people to "eat shit" for years, and now they want to make us literally eat shit. For science. For our own good.

I call bullshit. There's so much wrong with this. It's a joke!

For starters: There's a shit ton (sorry) of bacteria in feces. There's a reason we wash our hands after going to the bathroom. Can you imagine licking your hands after flushing the toilet? Ew. I hope you have health insurance.

And then there's the fact that long term weight loss is "almost impossible". If a risky crash diet or a deadly eating disorder or just not eating for a couple weeks probably has the same efficacy as swallowing a stranger's excrement, why not try one of the former? Less yucky, just as useless.

What concerns me most about this study, though, is that there are actually people who are invested in this. You can bet your ass (sorry again) Elaine Yu is being paid big bucks for this. Massachusetts General must be hoping for a miracle here. And countless women are wistfully daydreaming about how they'll actually be treated like human beings if they can just find a damn diet pill that works.

They're shit out of luck. 

I'm convinced that one day, we'll all come around and realize Health At Every Size is the way to go. Until then, let's enjoy this shit show.

Selena Gomez, I'm Literally a HUGE Fan

I love being happy with me yall #theresmoretolove 😂

Selena Gomez sought counselling after fat shaming comments.

There's a lot to dissect in that sentence. Let's!

1. Selena Gomez: I really like her. I respect her commitment to improving her singing voice, the fact that she recently came out as having Lupus, and her passion for helping charitable causes like Unicef.

2. sought counselling: Good for her! I think everyone could use therapy. We should all at least give it a try! Therapy teaches valuable coping skills and allows a healthy outlet for anger, sadness and fear. I wish more celebrities would discuss their medical and psychiatric treatments in order to normalize them.

3. fat shaming comments: This is the portion of the sentence during which the little devil on my shoulder has fire coming out of his nose and he jabs me with his pitch fork. "Fat shaming" is a loaded phrase.

Any person, of any size, can be fat shamed. Fat shaming is, quite literally, shaming someone for being fat (whether they are or aren't). It attacks them for being what society deems "too big" to be physically acceptable.

Says Selena to Elle Magazine: "I'd land at the airport and people would yell out, 'You're fat!'" It was awful". [Source].

I don't doubt the awfulness of that kind of public humiliation. Been there, done that. Many times. But Selena's reaction doesn't take into account that:

1. Selena is not fat, and

2. Plenty of Selena's fans are fat, and experience this (and much worse) every single day.

The article continues:

"This was the first year I ever dealt with anyone talking about my body," the singer—​who's been working since the age of seven—said. But the whole ordeal was inspiration for her new album cover. "Even if I did gain weight, I'm fine. That's what the picture represents." 

It must be bliss, reaching the age of 23 before one's body being the topic of discussion! I, and many of my fat colleagues, can recall being told as a child we were "too big" or "eating too much".

And the fact that Selena gained weight and doesn't care? Awesome. Weight shouldn't be her focus when she's just released her fifth studio album, Revival, and is doing what she loves.

But I wonder: Is Selena Gomez okay with gaining weight because she's still in the realm of "acceptable"? She still has a "normal" BMI, doesn't look big next to friends like Taylor Swift, can still fit into designer duds? Or is she okay with gaining weight because she loves herself and her body the way they are, and believes weight doesn't define a person's success or attractiveness?

As a huge fan of Selena (literally and figuratively), I truly hope the latter is accurate.

Maybe, with the success of Revival, will come a revival of pop stars' shunning beauty ideals.

An Open Letter To: My Best Friends

Dear best friends,

I know I've all but vanished off the earth completely, these past few months. I'm sorry. 

Apparently I'm sick. Like, actually sick. Believe it or not, this is just sinking in. I've been well aware for a long time that having a disability is real; it's something you can't will away or pray away or cure by eating vegetables and whole grains or exercising or practicing mindfulness. I know that. I'd never suggest to other people that their disability isn't serious, isn't real, is an excuse. 

But with myself? 

I'm so sure that I'm making excuses for myself. 'I'm not really tired. I just slept all day because I'm lazy and need to get my shit together'. Or, 'There's nothing wrong with my joints. They don't hurt that much. I'm complaining over nothing'. And worst of all, I'm afraid that you believe I'm making excuses because I'm too lazy or self-absorbed or... I don't even know what, to come see you, or even call you or text you.

Here's the thing: I'm not making excuses. My joints do feel like fire. I am so exhausted that I sometimes sleep for days and lose track of time. I am anxious and in pain and depressed. There's a reason I've barely left the house once a week (if at all) this winter.

I'm afraid that I'm pushing the world (and worst of all, you) away by choosing to be this way. But when I take a step back, consider whether I'd 'blame the victim' if she were anyone but me, if I'd tell someone with fibro and CFS and anxiety and SAD that she's making it up and being lazy and stupid and pathetic, I say, "Fuck no!". 

I'm empathetic. I'm kind. I'm a decent person, most importantly, so I realize that disability isn't a choice. Part of what makes a disability, a disability, is its horrible impact on a person's relationships and quality of life.

My quality of life has gone further down the drain with every new symptom. And it'll just get worse if I stay in denial. I need to go easier on myself, while pushing myself to give as much as I can to my loved ones and my business and myself. It's a fine line to walk, but maybe if I let you in, you'll help me.

I know you've always been here for me. Even when you didn't understand what I was going through, you were always there. When I had a crush on Alec Baldwin. When I said I dreamed of taking a bite out of every single chocolate in a box and you bought me one for Christmas the next year and said "have at it!". When I came out. When I was vegan. When I decided I wasn't vegan anymore. When I had Selective Mutism. When you switched schools. When I switched schools. When I obsessed over Freud, and Green Day, and potato buns, and Julianne Moore. 

So I know you'll be here for me through this too. I'm just sorry it's taken so long for me to let you in. I've never doubted you. I've doubted me.

Love always,

Becca

An Open Letter To Rebel Wilson

Rebel Wilson is a great actor, she was hilarious in Bridesmaids, and she seems like a genuinely nice person.

But, I don't support her choice to be Jenny Craig Australia's spokesperson, because:
1, she's sending an awful message to her fans, and 2, weight loss almost never works anyway.

In an interview, she said ‘this [obesity] is something I can fix. So I should probably fix it'.

Except you can't 'fix' obesity, because weight loss almost never works, and because obesity may not even be a problem to begin with.

Rebel has lost 30-something pounds and hopes to lose more. She says, 'I guess with being this size you kind of put yourself into the friendzone. You never think anyone will be attracted to you at this weight. So you don’t really go out' [source].

Here's my open letter to her:

Dear Rebel Wilson,

You're gorgeous. You're talented. You're hilarious. And you're smart. 

 But you're doing something very, very stupid.

Your Jenny Craig partnership? Bad idea. 

Many of your fans (including me) feel alienated. We're expected to lose weight if we're fat and we enjoy your movies? If we have a killer sense of humour and a successful career like you, that isn't enough unless we drop a few dress sizes? That's the implicit message you're sending.

I'm sure your desire to lose weight stems from your insecurity about being in 'the friendzone', being unloved, your career ending too soon. But your fears are irrational.

Anyone who doesn't like you because of your looks doesn't deserve the pleasure, the privilege, the honour of seeing your movies or being your fan, friend or lover. 

Anyone who says you need to lose weight to have a successful, long career is full of shit (look at Tess Munster, Beth Ditto, Melissa McCarthy and all these famous fat babes).

Anyone who says you need to lose weight to be healthy is full of shit, too.

In conclusion: don't worry about your weight. Love how you look. Take care of your body. And focus on your career, girl, because it's red-hot!

Yours in friendship, 

Rebecca Esther

Image Source

An Open Letter To "Guy Who Looks Like Pete From Mad Men"

Dear gentleman on the subway who was admiring my chest,

You look like Pete Campbell from Mad Men. I find that quite attractive. It might have had something to do with your suit, which you looked quite dapper in.

I'm flattered that you find me attractive, but really, couldn't you at least ask my name, or better yet, genuinely compliment my intellect before undressing me with your eyes? This is the 21st century, afterall.

Thanks ever so much,

Modern Peggy Olsen

An Open Letter To: 15-Year-Old Me

Becca, aged 14.

Have you ever thought about what you'd say to a teenaged you? I tried writing a letter to myself (as part of the "An Open Letter To..." series), and found it a fascinating, healing experience. You might want to do the same. Here's mine:

Dear 15 -year-old Becca,

I'm you, 5 years from now. Don't question it. Let's just jump right in, 'kay?

Everything sucks right now, I know, but I promise it will get better.

I know pimples are annoying. You'll hate your skin for years. Best start mousturizing now.

The feelings you have for boys and girls are frustrating. Guys are confusing, and you're not comfortable with liking girls yet, because you don't have any queer friends or family members (that you know of). I'm glad you know there's nothing wrong with bisexuality. I'm glad you know you're a whole person with or without a relationship (and I'm sorry I forgot that when I was 19. I remember, now). Own your sexuality as early as you can. Embrace it, baby. That's the healthiest thing to do.

It's okay that you're not interested in sex, most of the time, even though some of your friends are. It's also okay if you want to look at porn or touch yourself. I know you won't (because I know you well). And that's okay, too.

Your parents' divorce is not your fault. Soon you'll understand that relationships sometimes don't last, and that's okay. What we learn from them and that we survive the fall is what counts.

You're going to be diagnosed with an eating disorder soon, Becca, around the time you turn 16. Don't be ashamed. That doesn't help anything. Lots of people have trouble with over-eating or under-eating. You just happen to have trouble with both. It isn't your fault. The sooner you recognize that and accept treatment, the better.

On a related note, you better get to work on accepting your body. It's a long, hard road. You think you're fat now (and think fat is a bad word), but you'll learn the hard way that you're not, and it isn't. Over the next 5 years you'll gain almost a hundred pounds, you'll battle EDNOS and body dysmorphia, people will belittle you for your size... and you'll begin to love your body for what it is and what it looks like. You're going to grow a few more inches. You're going to get wider hips, a rounder tummy, bigger breasts. Stretch marks and scars will litter your skin. But don't worry. You are beautiful. Remind yourself of that, every day.

You were just diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, too. I know that doesn't make things any easier. On the contrary, everything's going to be more difficult, thanks to your uncontrollable moods, unstable sense of self and intense insecurity.
But you know what? You're stronger than your illness. So what if it's going to stick around all your life? Start fighting it now, because you are going to beat it.

I believe in you.

Love, 20-year-old Becca

An Open Letter To Rick Santorum

Dear Mr Santorum,

Being pro-choice isn't about aborting fetuses. It's not about undermining you (and I know self-centred Republicans like you often think the world revolves around them & people's political choices revolve around them). Being pro-choice about one thing, and one thing only: a person's right to choose.

As an American, white, financially well-off, cis-gendered, straight male, you're given the right to choose.

Most of us aren't so lucky.

Most of us aren't white, financially well-off, cis-gendered, straight and male.

So here's a suggestion. Instead of spreading hate and insensitive 'advice', try being empathetic. Instead of telling women who've survived rape to "make the best out of a bad situation" [source], consider the fact that some situations can't just be made better. Sometimes, abortion is the only answer. And sometimes, politicians need to admit that they're wrong.

Just like I'm going to admit something about myself: throughout this letter I've been tempted to make jokes about your campaign being full of shit, but I've restrained myself (mostly).

Unfortunately for you, your grossly unconstitutional campaign is a much bigger issue.

Hopefully you'll fix that before you get glitter bombed again.

Sincerely,
Rebecca Esther

Related Links:

Definition of Santorum | Santorum on Wikipedia | Santorum Quotes | Santorum's Campaign Site | More Santorum

An Open Letter To Anonymous Haters

Dear Anonymous Haters who post nasty comments on my blog,

I am flattered. Truly. Not only do you take the time to read my work, but you meticulously craft scathing responses to my every post. You are so good at sharing your hateful words in a timely manner (within a day of my updates-- wow!) but you word them so creatively, so eloquently. For example: "dear becca, my responze to your last post is fuck ylou".

Oh god. That stung!

Also, you are very brave, leaving an anonymous comment on a not-yet-popular blog. That takes guts, doesn't it?

Here's another gem:

I told Kamen you'd blogged about him.
And everytime you mention him, I will tell him. You may be hurt by whatever he ''did'' but Stop talking fucking shit about him over and over again. You say you're done with him but you're not. Youre using him to get fucking sympathy for nothing, thats just cruel. Stop trying to make out you've done fuck all wrong when youve caused more damaage than anyone else.

1 Ooh, I'm so scared someone told Kamen I'd blogged about him!
2 You put 'did' in quotation marks?! Now you're serious! I am shaking in my boots. For realz.
3 I'm talking "fucking shit" about him? Not just "shit", but "fucking shit"? Actually, anon, I'm talking "fucking shit" about you right now. You must feel so special.
4 What is "damaage"? Is that pronounced 'dahm-aw-j".

These are just the latest comments. The others I didn't care to post because making up snarky responses to them all is a waste of my time.

And next time I write an open letter, I think it'll be responses to my favourite positive comments from my dedicated readers (other than Victoria, because she's a cunt).