The Straw Ban

Reposted from my Facebook post in July 2018.

Bundle of colorful plastic straws.

"I'll have a margarita... with a straw." - Laila, Margarita with a Straw (2014)

So, I love that people are trying to be green and save marine life. I do think it's devastating that aquatic animals are getting injured and ill from the toxicity that plastic has on their bodies, and I certainly don't want to ingest plastic every time I eat seafood. However, as much as I love Earth, animals, the sea, and Mother Nature as much as the next girl, this "Straw Ban" that America has decided is a "good solution" to the problems I mentioned is going to be a serious detriment to millions of people.

Let me explain. A lot of people with physical disabilities need to use plastic straws. And not just want to, need to. I can drink liquids without a straw, so this doesn't affect me. However, as a friend and acquaintance of several disabled people who need assistance and adaptation to drink, here's why this would be a problem. A lot of people who have physical disabilities cannot lift cups up to their mouth because they might not have the fine motor control, hand steadiness, arm strength, or hand strength to do so. Another thing is, they might drop the cup and that can be a real hazard if the cup is made of glass, which could be a potential hazard in a restaurant. Another thing is, it's very hard for people with cerebral palsy (and other physical disability) to find the speed, coordination, strength, and accuracy to accomplish more than one motor tasks at once. "But that's only one motor task!" you might say. Well, really, it's three. Yes, three. First, there is the action that you do that involves picking up the cup. This involves a complex set of skills that muscles do based on instructions from for example, your nervous system, and other parts of the body. This may seem simple for some, but for others, it can be very arduous. Next, you have to hold the cup while using your mouth and face to sip. Sipping is an easy task for most people, but sometime it's hard for people to sip while holding a cup. And then there is putting the cup back down, which can be hard to do for some people too.

As an add-on, bendy straws are better for making sure the straw is easily accessible.

As I said before, I'm all for saving the environment, but please, do it in other ways so disabled people can live as independently as possible.

I never thought I'd be ranting about straws on social media before, but hey, first time for everything.

Body Dysphoria, Physical Disabilities, and Sexual Orientation: On The Disabled Queer Intersection

My Physical Disability and Body Dysphoria

I am physically disabled. I have cerebral palsy that is visible and audible. I am aware that I look slightly different and sound slightly different than most people. Because the muscles in my legs are affected by my CP, I walk around in an unusual manner. Sometimes I walk a lot like a toddler, stumbling and falling but always getting back up again. Other times, I feel akin to a decrepit older woman, hunched over and walking dreadfully slow.

Even the way I sometimes pull my facial expressions can look different from other people. There can be such a thing as a "palsy smile" if you will and I have one. Obviously, everyone has a different smile just based on genetics, facial structure, and even personality, because we are all unique. However, there are certain physical characteristics that can be similar among individuals with cerebral palsy based on how our muscles make us move and appear.

The position in which I stand is affected. The alignment of my eyes is sometimes affected. I often have saliva on my chin because of excessive drooling. My feet can often turn blue because of spastic blood vessels.

Sometimes my voice gets too high or not as resonant as I'd like it to be because of spasticity in my vocal cords, face, and tongue.

I've always struggled with body dysphoria related to my CP. This has led to a lot of disassociation with my body. Knowing that my body is my own, but not feeling like it is and having an inherent discomfort with it. People seem to be able to conceptualize this within the contexts of being transgender or having disorders such as body dysmorphic disorder, anorexia, bulimia, or, in more extreme cases dissociative identity disorder, known colloquialy as multiple personality disorder.

Intense discomfort with one's own body is something that most people experience in one way or another. But it's usually directed at a perceived aesthetic flaw and not directed at feeling as though your body isn't your own or shouldn't be yours. This is what people with those disorders feel as well as what a lot of people with physical disabilities feel.

It doesn't help when you feel like society has erased your body. When you don't see images of women like you being reflected back at you, you start to feel yourself fade out. It's a weird feeling for sure. Painfully weird.

(Left side of picture depicts a stick figured girl standing up smiling  in a triangle dress and pigtails. Right side of page depicts a sketched out version of the handicapped symbol. "The Package" is written next to it. "put your brain inside your body" is centered at the top of the page.

Viewing my body as separate from my brain (a diagram)

Gender Expression and Sexual Orientation

I was 15 years old when I realized I was interested in other young women. And not only that, I was interested in women who had the same gender expression as I did. Meaning, not only did I like other girls, I liked girls who liked to dress, act, behave, and present in a very traditionally feminine manner like I did. There is a concept in queer identity that if you find yourself attracted to people who align with your personal gender expression, you often question whether you want to be that person, meaning you want to have the physical attributes of that person because you are envious of them, but you also have sexual attraction to that person. I've theorized that maybe I'm attracted to able-bodied women because I feel like they have been given bodies that I've wanted as my own. I've thought about this as a theory for other femmes who like femmes, too. It just seems to make sense to me.

This dilemma happened to me while I was watching This is Life with Lisa Ling on CNN recently. I was watching an episode that Lisa had done on the realities of the modeling industry. One of the aspiring fashion models she interviewed was 18 year-old Chrissy Clark, now 20. Obviously, models always look good, but even during an interview, she looked stunning and it was like I was watching a body that more or less, should've been mine, too. I always feel this way, no matter the girl. I should be able-bodied too. This is what I should look like. Not necessarily model perfect, but just having a body that society deems traditionally beautiful and worthy of sexual pleasure. That's where the, "Do I want to be her or do her?" dilemma comes in.

Black and white photograph of Chrissy Clark standing up while striking a sensual pose. She is tall, skinny, has long, straight, light brown hair, a delicate, pretty face,  and is wearing a white T-shirt and denim shorts.

Bridging the Gap

Since we live in a heteronormative, cisnormative, ableist patriarchy, people seem to assume that.

1. Everyone is straight except effeminate men and butch women. (heteronormativity)
2. Feminine women have to be attracted to masculine people in order to maintain traditional gender roles and keep men in power. (patriarchal society)
3. All disabled people are asexual (ableism)
4. If disabled people are sexual, they only are attracted to other disabled people.
5. Trans people are straight, all of them.

The assumption that all people are or should be attracted to the opposite gender and the same ability status is them is toxic for people like me who are the opposite as those two statements. It doesn't even cross people's minds and it's one of the reasons that I have failed to acknowledge or express this about myself before. It perpetuates body shaming for disabled people because it makes us feel like we don't deserve to be desired by people with bodies unlike our own. Instead of failing to acknowledge the possibility of attractions that are not traditional, keep an open mind. Furthermore, the precise reason I often do not value my body is that people apologize to me for living in the body that I've been given. You may think you're making this better by feeling bad for me, but this actually perpetuates the idea that disabled bodies need to be erased and that my body is a mistake. No one wants to feel like their body is a mistake, because it's not.

Disabled people need to feel beautiful. I think I'm getting there, but it takes time.

Sketch of a pretty young woman in a manual wheelchair on her cell phone. She is wearing a dress and high heels and is smiling.

Behind Every Punk, There is a Sweetheart

It seems that cerebral palsy in all of its idiosyncrasies, has always been (and will always be) that pestering little brother that I never had. He constantly follows me around everywhere and anywhere and just when I think I've lost sight of him, there he is again, trying to piss me off with any number of his tactics: making me fall down, grabbing my hand and making me spill something, cracking open my mouth so that I drool, making me have an accident for God knows what reason, and most of all, at the end of the day, making me tired. He makes my orthopedic system weak, uptight, high-strung, and just plain angry. He embarrasses me in front of a lot of people (especially my peers) and obstinately refuses without hesitation to end his relentless attitude towards making his presence known to everyone in the room. He plops me in a wheelchair, forcing me to put up with the ignorant attitudes of people of all ages who stare, patronize, and treat me like a two year old. He constantly talks to me and even when I try and cover up his mouth, he keeps talking... and talking... and talking... and talking. He seems to have also unfortunately acquired the ability to easily coax my nerves into sending little uncalled for electroshock impulses to my fibers. It wasn't until a neurologist appointment in February that I had found out he had went to my nerves too. As if the unnerving muscular anxiety wasn't enough, he made it so much so that he makes them shake, twist, jerk, and feel like they are going to explode. He has made me give up on my dreams of becoming a dancer.

Those are the things that make me angry. But then I have to remember that behind every punk, there is a sweetheart. There are times when people have approached me with the prospect of having us separated since he causes me so much distress. However, I wouldn't want that. That being said, I would not have had the opportunity to be immersed in such a rich and enthralling communal culture that has forever changed me. I would not have had the chance to meet some of the greatest people in my life. I would have not learned how to think craftily, critically, and on my feet. I would have not learned the art of satire as precisely as I have. I would have not aced almost every anatomy test I've ever taken. I would have not gotten treated like royalty at Disney World. I wouldn't have the liberty of handicap parking or disability benefits. He has kept me safe in some respects when I had times of unnerving impulsivity and rebellion. He has made me stronger and at times, more happy at the deepest roots of my core.

Wheelchair Courtesy 101

Lately, I have seemed to have perpetually encountered a rather unfortunate succession of obnoxious ignorant behaviors regarding not necessarily people who use wheelchairs per se, but more about how the wheelchairs themselves are treated and I just would think it would be immensely beneficial to set some ground rules.

Tip #1: Do not say, "I'd LOVE to be in a wheelchair!"

Okay, I can't tell you how many times I have heard able-bodied people say this to me and it drives me up the wall. I can sort of see where they are coming from though - they look at wheelchairs and it creates the false illusion that it's as fun as a toy. I mean, yeah... it has wheels, stickers, bright colors, a whole bunch of buttons, pretty lights, and a "comfortable" seat. I get the assumption, I get the misinformed excitement to a certain degree. However, wheelchairs are functional tools for us that are practical. And with every practical everyday tool comes an inherent lack of excitement, despite one's gratefulness for that particular technological device. 

Please also keep in mind that it's very constraining to be sitting for hours on end. The number is infinite for the amount of times where I have sat in my chair and thought to myself, "I wonder if they'd be okay with me walking around. While wheelchairs are useful, they are constraining to no end. When people say to me that I have to stay in my chair, I have to refrain from screaming to the fullest extent ever possible. I feel trapped... not behind bars trapped, but, "Someone may as well tell me that they're going to glue my ass to this seat to keep me safe apparently." Big sarcastic thumbs up, right?

Expanding upon my thought above, wheelchairs are often the generalization for what it means to be disabled, like in the universal blue and white handicapped symbol shown directly below. If I'm being completely honest, often times, I totally wish I wasn't disabled. Why? Because... oh yeah, this SUCKS. Sure, there are things I love about being disabled and things that I hate. My point being, when you're someone who uses a wheelchair, that is the ultimate right-in-front-of-your-face clue that you are in fact disabled and that somehow you are either too weak or "so incredibly strong" or maybe even a bit of both. Point blank, it is literally impossible to hide your disability when you're using your wheelchair, from others AND from yourself. Your disability becomes obnoxiously ubiquitous, staring everyone in the room right in their fucking face. This reality is painful. Do not remind us of this.

Another thing with this is the wording. I personally find it mildly offensive when people say "in a wheelchair" or "bound to a wheelchair" because it makes them seem like an object and not an actual person. Other people might feel differently than I do about this, but my advice would just to go with your gut.

Tip #2 :Do not ask us questions about our chair while we are driving please.

This is kind of like someone texting you while driving about trivial, silly stuff or your kids talking to you really loudly in the car when you're driving somewhere new. When I'm driving my chair, I'm trying to be somewhere. And for me to give someone a sufficiently comprehensive run-down of all that my chair can offer, I've got to pause for something. Remember, sometimes pausing driving a wheelchair is a lot like pulling over. However, this does not mean I am not game for a good conversation or some nice small talk, but it would be preferable to me if you wouldn't say things like, "How fast can that thing go?!?" until I'm done driving please.

Tip #3: Always be sure to ask what they'd like their chair to be referred to as please.

What I mean by this is different types of wheelchairs have different names. A motorized wheelchair could also be potentially referred to as a power chair or an electric chair and a manual wheelchair could also be potentially be referred to as a push chair or a stroller. I personally find that calling a wheelchair a "stroller" quite derogatory actually because it juvenilizes the situation at hand and more importantly, the owner of the chair. For me, manual or push is acceptable, but be aware of individual preferences. As for the first example, I prefer motorized or power. Electric chair sounds like I'm being electrocuted as punishment for a wrongdoing!

I am also okay with calling my blue chair a stroller if the purpose is to distinguish it from a standard manual wheelchair.

Tip #4: Remember that saying someone is a bad driver is offensive.

This one is pretty self-explanatory but I'm just putting it out there.

Tip #5: Keep rude comments about how my chair looks to yourself please.

For example, disabled people are usually very messy eaters by no fault of our own. Therefore, you will probably see food all over my foot plate. Don't comment on that please.

Tip #6: Keep in your lane please. You are a pedestrian to me when I am in my chair.

SAFETY ALERT: Do not come walking straight towards a motorized wheelchair. Because if you do, there is a high risk of me running of your feet.

Tip #7: If you don't need the elevator, take the stairs please.

There's only so many elevators in one building. Be mindful of the fact that there is probably at least one person using a wheelchair. Save it for them please.

Tip #8: Do not touch my chair without my permission please. (I repeat, do not)

This is one that really makes me angry. While it is true that I am a person, not object, my chair is an extension of me. My chair serves as my legs 40 percent of the time and you have to respect that. It is my personal property. Do not move it without my consent; the speed might be up too high or the control panel might not be put into place. I want to know who is touching it and where it's going. Also, don't use my chair as a little resting thing for your body; don't lay your arm on it, put your foot up on it, lean on it, tap your fingers on it, put your hand on it, or anything of that nature. If I trust you and we are having an intimate conversation, or we are close, you may do so. If not, please refrain.

List of People Who Can Touch My Chair Without Permission:

• My mum, my dad, and my sister
• My physical therapist
• My advocate at my disability services agency

Tip #9: Some of Us Can Walk, You Know!

I feel like one of the first assumptions that people make about the disability community is that all people who use wheelchairs are unable to walk. False. A lot of us can. And I'm not trying to exclude people who can't walk from the wheelchair user's lament, however, I think this is important to learn so that it's not seen as some sort of cheesy pseudo-miracle. Don't be too overly excited because I'm just putting one foot in front of the other and lifting my legs off the ground just like anyone else. You can't expect disabilities to be black and white all the time, just like you can't expect gender identity and sexuality to be black and white either. There has to inevitably be a thick gray area. This is further explained in an article entitled This Is What Disability Binarism Looks Like off of the blog That Crazy Crippled Chick by my lovely friend Cara Liebowitz.

Tip #10: Treat Us Like The Human Beings That We Are

We are human, I promise you.

The Androgynous Bliss and Complicated Fears of a Lipstick Bisexual

I first found out I was bisexual when I was fifteen years old - I had developed a crush on a girl obliviously and two years later, I had accepted the fact that I was in love with her via the help of my previous therapist.I'd rather not discuss the whole ordeal as for the time being, but I decided to tell you just for a brief background.

First finding out that I was bisexual was painful and confusing; I didn't want to like girls, but I did. And furthermore, I also didn't want to be stuck in the middle of the binaries of straight and gay. I wanted to be as orthodox as I possibly could with this particular facet of my identity. I tried so hard to force myself to swing one way or the other, but it just wasn't working.

• Myth #1: Bisexuals will never become straight or gay, no matter how hard they try.

I tried to convince myself after that I needed to think more about it - that I was confused and I needed more time. That wasn't working either because I kept going back to the fact that I still liked guys and could see myself marrying one. I still thought Leonardo da Caprio was extremely sexy and all that jazz. I still felt a connection with guys that I still cannot seem to erase to save my life. Yet, I noticed this in relation to girls too. I felt like I could marry one. I felt physical attraction and I felt a deep desire to be connected with one both from emotional and physical standpoints. And I was only denying myself of living this pure truth because of reactions from others.

Myth #2: Bisexuals are not confused most of the time.

My next fear was fearing that people would still consider me straight, even after I told them, and therefore, it was unjustified that I would come out because I wound end up straight anyway.  I tried to convince myself of that lie as well.

Myth #3: Bisexuals are not former gays turned straight.

I kept thinking to myself how horrifying it would be if I was oversexualized because I was bisexual. Let's look at it this way: gay people come out to discuss the potential possibility that they are going to want to be in a committed relationship with someone of their own gender one day, not to disclose who they'd like to be in bed with. With bisexuals, it's no different. Just like gay people, we feel an obligation to disclose these things to inform about emotional connections rather than sexual ones. We should not be persecuted for coming out.

Myth #4: Bisexuals are too interested in sex.

There was another part of me that still exists even today where certain girls are beautiful, but I wouldn't want  to date them. Let's be mindful of the fact that I am still a girl even with my sexual orientation. Girls admire each others' beauty, even when straight. I am no different.

Myth #5: Bisexuals think everyone is attractive.


Bisexuality holds equal amounts of intense pain, fear, confusion, and pride as homosexuality does. It is nuanced, bended, different, open. That scares people off and we are often looked at as a bit of a guessing game if you will by not only others, but even ourselves on occasion as well. The guessing game that we have hardwired into our neurological and endocrinological system is a unique one indeed - a zebra out of a band of horses. At least in the romantic snse that is.

Society being bended is a very tricky thing because people don't know what make of a circumstance such as this. Here's what to do with it: be prepared for fluidity within us and try not to shock yourself with shock from our sociological courses.

With that implemented within myself, I have not only learned to embrace that sociological implications of this binding agent, but also the cultural implications of this. Furthermore, even though I am very feminine (and always will be and proudly so too), I have additionally learned how to appreciate the subtle nature of androgynous bliss at least from a glance. The ability to be so open without having to remove yourself from your true identity is absolutely wonderful. Soak it up if you're like me!

Whoever is reading this right now, I hope you'll support me. I just couldn't hold it in any longer. This post will ideally free me from shame and secrecy.  My friends and therapist who I have come out to seem to support me and I hope you will too. And for any people reading this that feel the same way I did, remember to always be yourself and give yourself time to think and grow. Thank you.

The Relationship Between Dance and Eating Disorders

There are multiple categories of the ideal body type in Western culture: the bodybuilder body, the swimmer's body, the runner's body, the gymnast's body, and, the one that has had a significant negative impact/affect on me, the dancer's body. These body types all set utterly unrealistic standards for us as women in many facets of society; they have proven to completely obliterate the appropriate psychological boundaries of what it means to achieve success and quite frankly, I disagree with this greatly.

There are many different types of dance of course, but the three that I do are ballet, modern, and hip hop. Since I have moderate cerebral palsy, I often feel like I need to attempt to attain the ultimate epitome of a dancer's physique to compensate for the lessening of technical [kinesthetic] skill that I have due to my poor motor control. Over the course of my teenage years, I have had to learn to realize that this is pure overcompensation that is far too excessive by all means. But I still sometimes wonder if it is accurate. After all, ballerinas and modern dancers are inherently regarded as superior if they have skeletal sides, but I try my very hardest to combat this line of thinking, not only for myself, but for other dancers as well. Yet, facts preference for dancers with flat stomachs and visible shoulder blades, collarbones, and ribs are still extremely pervasive as much as we like to shut our eyes and blindfold ourselves into a eutopian bubble that states otherwise.

--Example of a Ballerina Body (Olga Kurraevva)

My teenage years were rough because I became a woman, not a skeleton anymore; I started to lose my frame of a body, my fairy body and that scared me in all honesty. So, then I started putting more and more pressure to maintain that dancer body whose mind desperately wanted to maintain a girl who could wear belly shirts and low-rise sweatpants and crop tops without something under or over it and leotards and tutus and articles of clothing that only thin people could possibly wear.

When my eating disorder had reached it's very worst, I started to wreak havoc on my body in ways that I'd prefer not to discuss. But essentially, I lost some weight, but I was never able to keep it off. My body had made me eat eventually due to my history with low blood sugar. So I started depleting virtually every ounce of my energy with dance itself. I stayed the same physique, much to my dismay and I did not attain  the desired and pernicious effect of seeing my flesh turn to bone. I yelled, I screamed, I cried and came to the disappointing realization of dreadfulness that subjecting myself to a succession of a stomach pratically made of water, an ill-tempered demeanor, unwanted persperation, and dizziness was serving me no justice than little add-ons of control and the [unhealthy] release of endorphins. I hated this harsh reality more than anything.

Nothing about me had the qualities of an elite dancer -- I was klutzy by default, spastic, gimpy, tight, and most of all, in my eyes, not skinny enough. Dance is about a beautiful body, and my eating disorder convinced me that unless the Teddy Grahams bearwas gorgeous, I was certainly NOT considered so either by any stretch of the imagination. I was nowhere near close to having the sexiness of Nina Sayers from Black Swan or of my most looked up to dancer, Olga Kuraevva or my hip hop dance all-star acquaintance, Kate. So I had no passion, no drive, no desire for sex, dance, or the pursuit of happiness anymore. Here I was  -- a dancer always claiming to herself that dance had been her eternal passion... here I was -- a dancer, who in all senses, happened to be the ONLY one who was [directly] pressuring herself to lose weight. No one had ever told me to lose weight, especially not for dancing purposes, so it was subtly ludicrous that I was doing so myself. I guess I want to be perfect, I guess I wanted to be sexy, I guess I wanted all the exacerbated pain and fatigue from dancing my ass off to actually MEAN something for once in my fluctuant life -- I guess I didn't want to be ostracized from the elite anymore than I already was, I guess I wanted my CP to not matter nearly as much anymore. I guess I wanted to go to NYU or Julliard. I guess I wanted to feel good.

Now, I guess I do feel good in SOME respects about it, feeling good and vital about my presence as a dancer again. I have regained my passions, my strength, my carthartic acts, and my artistic visions within my dancing in the fields of ballet and modern dance and have tried very hard to be able to look in the mirror and see arm exercises that show healthy bones - and ultimately a dancer with drive, swagger, soul,, grace, strength, and all things in between without the detrimental and disproportional omission of a body worth celebrating even in belly shirts, crop tops,  sweatpants, leotards, and tutus. And I guess I feel not 100% good, but alright to maintain myself.\

Olga Kurraevva - Contemporary Ballet Improvisation

Built on Stilts Dance Festival 2009 with Kate and Evan - Hip Hop Performance

Eating Disorders and Sex: A Toxic Correlation

I blew this up so you could see how this cover hit me like a ton of bricks shortly after buying FOOD.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know that you're thinking that this post is going to be another generic rant about how society instills in us as people in Western cultures (especially young women such as myself) to be stick thin. Well, if that is your assumption of what the post may be about, let me inform you that you are right, but also wrong. The topic of this post has rarely been discussed in relation to eating disorders at least to the limits of my current knowledge, much less so that it is written by someone who is 18 years old. And that topic is sex. Yes, sex. I know it may seem odd or futile or even salacious to write something such as this, but I truly do believe that this is a legitimate issue that needs to be carefully and tastefully addressed.

You've all heard the endless and timeless harping on about how the media and pop culture seem to play a distinctive "pattern" of roles in the breeding of eating disorders I'm sure. But have you ever stopped and thought about how maybe, just maybe eating disorders could be caused by sexualized society as well? I didn't think it either until I was about 16.

Let's break it down. When women feel sexy, they show off their breasts, their asses, their legs, their backs, their shoulders, and their tummies. This is because visibility of those body parts show things. Now let's look at a girl with an eating disorder: she doesn't like any of those things because her view of her body is distorted and she constantly feels like her body is hideous. Now let's look back at the women without eating disorders: they want to show off body parts because they feel that their bodies are sexually attractive and therefore, suitable. Notice how on the magazine cover, it is essentially talking about these main topics:

a) ways to be "more beautiful" via the aides of products such as cosmetics and perfumes: BEST BEAUTY UNDER $10 and HOT LOOKS FROM BEACH TO BAR+

b) ways to get a "better" body: STEAL KATY'S FLAT ABS TRICK ASAP. 

c) stuff about sex: EPIC HOT SUMMER SEX and TURN UP THE HEATAT WORK * IN LIFE * IN BED, and MAKE HIM ROAR!

Size of the Text:

The words that have been enlarged are as follows:

FLAT ABS

EPIC SEX

HEAT

ROAR!

Placement of the Text:

Notice how "FLAT ABS" is directly under "TURN UP THE HEAT"... 

Am I the only one who thinks that the fact that these things occurring in this way is on purpose? In other words, this whole magazine layout may as well say this:

"If you want to have a good sex life, it is essential for you to attain a completely flat stomach like none other than Katy Perry; this will ensure that you will get laid and be good in bed."

Society often seems to overlook the fact that casual sex is about a good body. Having a good body is beautiful, to a certain extent. But if you ask many people how they feel after losing weight they'll say words such as "hot" and "sexy" or even "Things with my husband have never been better!"

Sex is ultimately about a BODY; a person's physique and in all honesty, eating disorders are used to perfect that body much of the time. They're a way to feel secure in whatever sense used. Sex has an element of security as well,  and in Western culture,a skinny body not only means a beautiful one, but a one that will get someone to take you home and fuck you. Being thin is often considered genetically alluring to our homosapian selves and translated in our modern selves, a factor in their sexual capabilities. I encourage you to ponder this the next time you see another edition of Cosmo in the grocery store or another playing of Jason Derulo's "Wiggle" on the radio. Thank you.