Not Quite Plus-Sized

*Please be advised there is coarse and colourful language in this article*


This is for all the ladies out there who float between the sections in a store, just looking for a f*cking pair of pants, or a cute top to wear to that thing this weekend.

This is for all those ladies who would love to go to the mall and find something to wear that isn’t the largest size the store carries and still have it be too small in the thighs or in your arms, or in your bust line, or just everywhere in general. Yeah, you’re not the only one. I know exactly what you’re feeling. In fact, many of us do.



This, as odd as it may sound, is for all those ladies who would love to go to the plus-sized sections of a store and find something to wear that isn’t too big.

I get that this might sound shitty, but this is for all you ladies who, like me, aren’t the cookie cutter shape that can fit into jeans from Hollister but also can’t fit in anything at the plus sized store. This is for those of us who are just not quite plus-sized. Not to say that being able to fit in smaller or plus sizes makes you a horrible, God-awful person. This is to say that those of us stuck in the middle are real mother f*cking fed up.



I have thighs. No, not just thighs; I have thunder thighs. And don’t get me wrong; they are my pride and joy. Like giant mountains that support my heavy body, my thighs are solid as f*ck and I work damn hard to keep them that way. That being said, it would be f*cking fantastic if I could buy jeans that would just do the things jeans are supposed to do. You know, things like not be too small in the thigh, but fit everywhere else. Or fit in the thigh yet leaves enough space for a baby kangaroo at the waist. I’m really not asking for a lot here.



No, I don’t want to wear yoga pants for the rest of my life. No, I am not interested in jeggings that cut off my circulation and/or are see-through. No, I am not interested in diets or quitting my workouts. I am so unbelievably fed up of going into a change room, trying on a top, crying out of frustration because of the way I look, and leaving the store promptly thereafter. I am next level angry about the amount of energy that goes into loathing myself at every f*cking meal. I am so damn tired of hating my body. Constantly being in a state of anger, frustration, and negative self-hate is just so exhausting.

What’s the solution? I mean, apparently it’s socially unacceptable to leave the house nude, so that isn’t a solid life choice. So, what now?

Like everyone on earth, there are things that I dislike about myself. Like everyone else, there are things that I need to work on and things that are really fine the way they are. It’s okay. Like everyone else, I just need to start loving and accepting myself, the way I am.

Listen, I know I’m preaching to the choir here. It is so much easier to say: “I love me” than it is to actually, truly love me. But here’s the thing: I see ladies like this (see below) and all I can think of is “Her thighs are amazing” or “Damn girl! This lady is killing it! What a hottie!” or “Those. Curves.” only to realize I look fairly f*cking similar.



What we see in the mirror is difficult to accept sometimes, and yeah, maybe there are things we need to work on, but being angry, crying in change rooms, ranting on the internet, it solves nothing. I, before anyone else, needed to write this so that I could take the first step to accepting my thunder thighs and all the kickass extras they carry around. This is for me, for my well being, for my sanity. This is for me, the not quite plus-sized girl.


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