Who Am I To Do This? — a note from Sophia

 

A fat person standing on the beach, looking toward the water with their arms raised high into the air (photo by Lindley Ashline).

 

This fall I ran the first ever “Fat Joy” writing workshop.​

As I clicked the blue zoom button that allowed the participants to join, I felt my nerves spike and my breath catch. 

Who was I to bring this group together?  What made me think I could hold the responsibility of caring for these souls? Did I make the right decision by only allowing fat people to take this workshop?

Suddenly, there they were, gathered in gallery-view — seven, self-identifying fat people looking back at me. The tears in my eyes mirrored by the tears in theirs.

It was a first for all of us. We were gathering because of our shared fat identities. We were reaching for the kind of community that only shared lived experience creates. We were finding the second language of embodied empathy, knowing smiles, and relatable tears.

Our purpose was clear: how do we find joy in an anti-fat world? 

I’ve run a lot of magical and transcendent workshops at Firefly that I’m deeply grateful for… but this was extraordinary in a whole new way.

Those brave writers and I spent five weeks pushing away diet culture’s grip on our hearts and bodies. We got inspired by images of ancient fat statues. We cheered for rebellious poems and wrote our own manifestos that proudly proclaimed our rage and rejection of systemic discrimination. 

In her book Emergent Strategy, adrienne maree brown writes:

“We are in an imagination battle. I often feel I’m trapped inside someone else’s imagination, and I must engage my own imagination in order to break free.”

I can’t help feeling that creativity, community — all the work we do at Firefly — are the “how.” This is how we create new imaginary paths to walk, new worlds to live in, and new ways to hold the parts of us that have been pushed out, silenced, and marginalized.

This is true whatever kind of world you’re dreaming of.

As we start this new year, what’s your imagination trying to grow? What’s the more beautiful version of this planet that you can see? What’s waiting to move from your heart to the world?

Gather with people who see you.
Make the stories you want to live inside of.
Stop asking, “Who am I to do this?”

There’s so much space for your voice, especially when you find the right people to help you hold it.

If you’re a fat person looking to create community and writing about finding joy and writing yourself into fat futures — good news! I’m running this workshop again, starting in January, and all the details are here. Please share!

And if you’re looking for another form of imagination and community, we have so much.

Naturally, I can’t finish a Firefly newsletter without some word-nerdery.

So… did you know that the collective noun for joy is “glimmers”?

One joy is joy. Many joys are glimmers. I can’t get enough.

I felt so many glimmers in my Fat Joy class this fall, and I’m wishing you many more as you find ways to write your best world onto the page, gather with people who see you, and create the things you care about most.

Glimmering at you from here,

 
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How to say goodbye — a note from Ailsa