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"Fatness is sometimes still seen as grotesque, especially when you get to a certain size. I have had people cringe whenever I’ve described my body as fat. I have had designers get insulted when I ask if an item comes in my size or even mention the F word to them. It’s still a word that causes frissons of discomfort, even in communities designed to fuck with or play with the dominant paradigm" - Sonya Krzywoszyja (taken from the below article)
With this quote, Sonya touches on the power of language to define and create certain discourses about bodies.

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I never dated in high school and I didn't at University, either. I was unhappy with my weight, awkward, painfully shy and self-sabotaging, which is something I've always wanted to address.

I'd never realised that sexuality is a spectrum and that you could identify as anything but straight or gay. Is it any wonder I didn't face my secret feelings until years later? By the time I admitted it to myself, I thought it was too late to be queer. I thought I was too old and had wasted my best years.

Moving to Melbourne made me feel like I could let my freak flag fly, that I could finally find other queers to connect with. I thought that in a world of outcasts, I would find somewhere to belong. Finally.

It didn't quite work out that way. Before moving, I had the immense privilege of living at home while being a full-time carer for my sister. I was receiving the disability support pension and a carer's allowance. After paying her expenses, my income was largely disposable and I spent it. After moving out on my own to another state, my income then became non-existent.

I had a little sporadic work coming in here and there, but I also had more bills and higher rent to pay. I was constantly borrowing money off my parents to eat something other than scrambled eggs, which is another immense privilege, but it meant I didn't have any fun money.

I locked myself out of attending queer events that cost money, as so many do. I know these events tend to have discounted or skills share in place of full price tickets, or volunteer options. But I always felt I wasn't worthy enough to take it, that there were others who needed it more.

Self-sabotaging, remember?

The first time I attended a queer event, I won free tickets. I was so excited, planning my outfits and makeup. I made a vow to talk to strangers and I tried. I am not naturally vivacious, although I am naturally quite friendly. I mostly had a good time, but it was there the seeds of my discontent with particular facets of the queer community began.

In between trying to chat to people, I was told by a well-meaning person that I was "so brave" for what I was wearing. I've been told that before in mainstream communities, particularly at university when I did fashion electives and in the fashion industry when I used to do fat fashion blogging. Always, the subtext was my fatness. Why are you displaying your fat body so we can all see it? Why do you, of all people, look good?

To receive the exact same comment in the queer community was jarring. It made me want to throw on an oversized sack so no one would see me or judge me. But only if that sack was designer.

Fatness is sometimes still seen as grotesque, especially when you get to a certain size. I have had people cringe whenever I've described my body as fat. I have had designers get insulted when I ask if an item comes in my size or even mention the F word to them. It's still a word that causes frissons of discomfort, even in communities designed to fuck with or play with the dominant paradigm.

At another regular queer event I attend with my tall, fat friend, people always notice her, not only because of her height, but because she is usually a vision in neon, with multicoloured hair and sequins adorning her body. She dresses to be seen and I am envious of that. But even she will get those "so brave" comments and they will briefly throw her for a loop. I don't want to be told I'm "brave" for daring to exist in the body I live in. I want, "Cool outfit! Where did you get it?" or "Your hair is amazing!" without the subtext.

Youth, beauty and fuckability is a commodity the queer industry trades on as much as the mainstream industry does. I'm not young. I'm not thin. I'm not conventionally beautiful. I don't have the money anymore to buy amazing outfits, peacock & present. Creative skills bypassed me, as my mother despaired.

Some of my issues stem from my own internalised feelings of inferiority, which I uncomfortably admit. I recognise then and recognise now that it's naive of me to presume that queer communities are a utopia. There are hierarchies and not everyone lives in perfect harmony.

Queer communities aren't a monolith, either, and there are good and bad aspects, just like there are in mainstream communities. The difference is, and this gives me hope for the future, that there are people who listen to these issues I've brought up, who are working on making their community better, who are willing to challenge themselves and learn. Maybe one day soon I will have my queer utopia, where I will feel safe and loved and heard.
Sonya is a queer writer transplant to Melbourne via Brisbane. She was a regular columnist for lip magazine and a fashion blogger. She came for the weather and stayed for the coats. SUBSCRIBE TO ARCHER MAGAZINE

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Fatness is not bravery: On queer affirmation and fuckability

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never dated in high school and I didn't at University, either. I was unhappy with my weight, awkward, painfully shy and self-sabotaging, which is something I've always wanted to address. I'd never realised that sexuality is a spectrum and that you could identify as anything but straight or gay.

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This padlet will focus on the theme of stigma and shame. I believe that this theme allows me to draw upon various topics we have covered during the first half of the semester, looking at what happens when a body violates societal norms and expectations. Those who have modified bodies, disabled bodies, non-conforming gendered bodies, diseased bodies and fat bodies (to name a few) fall at risk of becoming socially ‘invisible’. As Mary Douglas states, the body is ‘a natural symbol, which different societies use to make classifications between what they consider to be pure and polluted, clean and dirty” (As cited in Howson, 2013, 96). This padlet will focus on such notions of stigma and shame, and how distinctions between purity and impurity signify a social and moral order.

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Sonya's article really struck a cord with me, as it was a great insight into the multi-layered levels of discrimination one can face. Within her queer minority group, Sonya thought that her fatness would be something that was less focused upon, less stigmatised because she was around other stigmatised individuals. However she revels that "Youth, beauty and fuckability is a commodity the queer industry trades on as much as the mainstream industry does ...
I don’t want to be told I’m “brave” for daring to exist in the body I live in. I want, “Cool outfit! Where did you get it?” or “Your hair is amazing!” without the subtext."

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How being a gay man can make your body issues worse - BBC Three

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I found the below article posted via the New York Times' Facebook page, and the connected screenshots are from the comments that followed. This opinion piece shines a light on how a societal stigma can reduce one's body to invisibility. As Richardson and Locks (2014) purport, the "quantification of age is deemed important within public spaces (especially transport systems) thus suggesting that socio-legal structures view the regimentation of bodies’ age as the most important of social identifications. In this respect, ageing is not only a cultural identification but social qualification” (42). With age can come a shift in social order, from visible to increasingly invisible. Reading the comments, a common theme pops up. A lot of the women contest this notion of invisibility, as it is conceptualised as a loss of social qualification, approval and inappropriate comments from men. If one of the side effects of this stigma is to be released from such pressure, then bring it on some say.

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I've become invisible. I like it.

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Credit Credit Annelise Capossela

NASHVILLE - There are things I miss about being fertile. A waistline. Hair thick enough to hide my pink scalp and skin fitted enough to prove I have bones. Ovulation - those heady days each month when every cell was vibrating, when just the brush of my husband's arm against mine could make unloading the dishwasher feel like foreplay. I truly miss ovulation.

I also miss sleeping. I remember sleep with such fondness. I fell asleep once leaning against the warm knees of the boy sitting behind me at a high-school football game. Back when I was fertile, I could close my eyes at night and wake up eight hours later, sometimes nine, feeling perfectly happy. Behold the bright new day! See how it reaches toward the horizon in all its hopeful promise!

Now my internal thermostat is broken. I wake up to throw off the covers and lie there, wondering if my beleaguered country can survive the cataclysm that has befallen it, if the Earth itself can survive the convulsion it is undergoing. Feeling old and tired and very worried - that's not a recipe for hope.

For the last few years, my husband and I were living in a dog hospice, caring for the ancient dachshund we inherited when my mother died and the ancient hound/retriever/shepherd mix who helped us raise our sons. This summer we had to say goodbye to both of them. I walk through the rooms of our quiet house now with a constant lump in my throat.

"Maybe we need to travel more," my husband said.

"Maybe we need a puppy," I said.

All that energy, all that untrammeled wiggling, cuddling, licking love - a puppy is the very personification of hope. But when I filled out the adoption application for a local animal-rescue organization, their website kicked it back with a note that read, "Validation errors occurred." The "error," it turns out, was my age. Under the field where I had typed "56," the website had noted (in bright red letters, lest I miss the note), "This number is too large."

This number is indeed too large for some things, but I'm grateful to have reached it. I've buried too many friends who were younger than I, and I feel more keenly than ever the bounty of this beautiful, temporary life.

The pyrotechnics of youth may be gone, but I have learned that there's no aphrodisiac like long love, like the feeling of knowing and being known, of belonging to a beloved's body as fully as you belong to your own.

And it's easier now to shrug off failure. It's easier to shrug off most other things, too: missed opportunities, the unwarranted anger of others, fear of looking like a fool. A person who is not afraid of looking like a fool gets to do a lot more dancing.

Why did I ever worry about whether my party dress was enough like everyone else's party dress to be appropriate without being too much like everyone else's party dress to be derivative? When bangs were in fashion, why did I ever cut my own bangs with the sewing shears?

I was never a woman who turned heads, but menopause has made me invisible, and I love being invisible. Why did I ever care if strangers thought I was pretty? Worse, why didn't I think I was pretty at an age when everyone is pretty? "Oh, how I regret not having worn a bikini for the entire year I was 26," wrote Nora Ephron in "I Feel Bad About My Neck." "If anyone young is reading this, go, right this minute, put on a bikini, and don't take it off until you're 34."

I don't know if it's menopause or simply aging, but time's winged chariot has freed me from bikinis, among other things. Life is full of obligations that can't be shirked, but always there are "obligations" I'm not obliged to do. No, I don't want to sit on that panel. No, I don't want to attend that fund-raiser. No, I don't want to go to that party. The days are running out, faster and faster, and I have learned that every yes I say to something I don't want to do inevitably means saying no to something that matters to me far more - time with my family, time with my friends, time in the woods, time with a book.

For many women, menopause can be far more brutal, but for me even the insomnia has been a kind of gift, if only because the gorgeous world is most gorgeous in the first light of dawn. The songbirds, their fledglings hungry from a long night of fasting, are most active and most garrulous at sunrise. The doe and her spotted fawn have not yet found a cool place to settle under the trees, and the bullfrogs are still booming out their baritone disputes. The webs the micrathena spiders have spun in the darkness have not yet been torn by falling leaves and wind. The filaments, stirring in the irregular light, are their own little suns.

The night I learned I was too old to adopt a rescue puppy, I woke in the dark and headed to a nearby lake at sunrise. A host of rough-winged swallows were scooping gnats from the air above the water. Three great blue herons and two little green herons all stood still as sentries on the shore. A raccoon hauled itself onto the bank, shedding a shower of water drops that gleamed like diamonds. A pair of fledgling barred owls demanded to be fed while their sharp-eyed parents watched the ground, waiting for some small creature to trundle through the underbrush. Nearby, a chipmunk was crouching motionless under a fallen tree.

And when I got home, there was an email waiting for me from the animal rescue organization: It said I am not too old to adopt a puppy at all.
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I've become invisible. I like it. NASHVILLE - There are things I miss about being fertile. A waistline. Hair thick enough to hide my pink scalp and skin fitted enough to prove I have bones. Ovulation - those heady days each month when every cell was vibrating, when just the brush of my husband's arm against mine could make unloading the dishwasher feel like foreplay.

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The connected images are an inspection of how media has dealt with the taboo topic of menstruation throughout history. The older advertisements use words such as 'personal hygiene' to indirectly hint at the topic of periods, and use images completely unrelated to menstruation. This then shifts to using images of sanitary items, but with blue liquid in the place of blood, so as not to offend consumers. Women have long been stigmatised for their periods - something that for the majority is a natural bodily experience. A new wave of unapologetic and truthful representations of menstruation can be seen in the below advertisements, aiming to remove the stigma and shame associated with something that is a reality for many of us. As Douglas (2003) outlines, blood represents a sort of disorder due to its connection with disease and war. The expulsion of bodily fluids violate boundaries and disrupts a moral and social order, creating a menstrual stigma in many cultures. Thus, the admission or reference to periods are regularly subdued or simply alluded to. Sophie Laws (1990) believes that menstruation is both unaccommodated  for and actively concealed. She proposes the concept of 'menstrual etiquette' which governs to whom and what women can say about the topic.
“For Laws women internalise shame because pollution beliefs stem from male disgust, and hence they conceal menstruation in order to protect men from having to confront the female body” (The Body In Society Chapter 3 The Civilised Body, 2013, 106).

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I added this picture as I think it's a great look at how the dialogue around menstruation can take a more intersectional approach. If it's not visible in the image, the arrow off the label 'women' interjects with the sentence 'or any menstruating human' to include those who menstruate that might not identify as 'female' or 'woman' - thus helping to shine a light on this multi-layered stigma. The adverts for the Thinx underwear are really open and inclusive - here's a link to some more: https://www.google.com.au/search?q=thinx+adverts&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiN_fCE-JjdAhVBS7wKHWpGCsUQ_AUICigB#imgrc=i8f-yz6ZNUZ_0M:

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This advert seeks to shatter another menstrual stigma, which is the discussion surrounding intercourse whilst menstruating. Whilst it's quite subtle, it's a start right?

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I have chosen the connected images as they all touch on Foucault's notion of 'technologies of the self' - the endeavours of humans and the tasks they undertake to alter themselves, so as to achieve a certain level of happiness or to fit into a certain social order. Arising from the notion of technologies of the self is the concept of 'normalisation'. There is a huge push for individuals to ‘normalise’ themselves by working on themselves. This is governed through the threat of shame – one must avoid shame by employing technologies of normalisation (such as going to the gym, dieting, wearing braces to fix your teeth, having your ears pinned back etc). Technologies of self-esteem benefit from consumption i.e self help books, podcasts, products, medical procedures and gym memberships. technologies of self-esteem are a direct example of self-surveillance.

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This is a video introduction to a British exhibition and campaign called "My Body My Life" that showcases women's experiences of abortion in an open and quietly powerful space. It discuses how this topic is still discussed with hushed voices, aiming is to make women aware of the prevalence of abortion (one in three women in the UK will get an abortion in their lifetime), and to 'humanise' and de-stigmatize it.

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Women's bodies have long been thrown into the political spotlight. The issue of legalisation of abortion in many South American nations almost always has a religious and political undertone to it. The shame of unwanted pregnancies often drives women to access illegal abortions in nations where rules do not permit safe access to such services. The political conversation surrounding Abortion in Argentina, for example, takes women's bodies out of the private sphere and places them into the public sphere - where individual and private choice is stripped in place of state-based regulation. Thus, women's bodies are used as political tools of public control.

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A crowd in Buenos Aires in June watched a broadcast of the lower house of Congress debating a measure on legalizing abortion for pregnancies up to 14 weeks. The bill passed and has gone to the Senate. Credit Credit Jorge Saenz/Associated Press

Argentina's Senate is set to debate a bill on Wednesday that would legalize abortion for pregnancies up to 14 weeks. The vote, in a predominantly Catholic nation that is also the home of Pope Francis, is expected to reverberate throughout the region.

If the bill passes and is signed into law, Argentina will become the most populous nation to legalize abortion in Latin America, a region where strict abortion laws are the norm and where Catholic teaching has steered policy for decades.

Now, abortion in Argentina is allowed only in cases of rape or if the pregnancy poses a risk to the mother's health. Women getting abortions can be charged with a crime and imprisoned under the current law, although that happens very rarely.

Here's what you need to know about the debate.

How did this rise to the top of Argentina's political agenda?

The effort to loosen the country's abortion laws is decades old, but it got a boost from the movement Ni Una Menos (Not One Less), which was formed in 2015 to raise awareness about violence against women.

Ni Una Menos helped put a feminist agenda on the map in Argentina, and activists soon turned their attention to the passage of broad legal protections for women. A green handkerchief, long associated with the effort to legalize abortion, became ubiquitous in their current campaign.

The size and the intensity of abortion-rights demonstrations grew over several months, culminating in huge crowds that gathered in June as the lower house of Congress passed a measure legalizing abortion. Even now, in Argentina's winter, people have taken to the streets in support of the bill, sometimes bringing Buenos Aires to a standstill.

Despite a swell of support in cities, opposition to the bill is strong in rural areas. Conservative Catholics and evangelicals, rallying with blue handkerchiefs, have campaigned for the abortion ban to remain in place.

What will happen in the Senate?

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People in Buenos Aires demonstrating in front of the presidential residence last month against the legalization of abortion. Credit Eitan Abramovich/Agence France-Presse - Getty Images

The Senate vote appears to be the deciding factor. Though debate will begin on Wednesday, a vote is not expected until early Thursday.

The Chamber of Deputies, the lower house of Congress, narrowly passed the bill in June. President Mauricio Macri, a conservative who personally opposes abortion, has said he will sign the measure into law if it is passed in Congress.

Opposition has become more organized since the Chamber of Deputies approval. Some senators who had been expected to support the legislation now say they will not. Though the vote is expected to be close, the recent shifts have dimmed the bill's chances.

Senators could also decide to amend parts of the bill, in which case it would go back to the lower house.

The current measure would decriminalize abortion and allow the procedure during the first 14 weeks of pregnancy. After that, a woman could legally end a pregnancy if it was the result of rape, if her life and health were at risk, or if the fetus had a condition incompatible with life.

Even if the bill is defeated, the issue is unlikely to go away because of the groundswell of support it generated. Similar women's movements have sprung up in neighboring countries, suggesting the debate will continue in the region as well.

What's the legal landscape for abortion in Latin America?

The green handkerchiefs of the abortion-rights movement have been adopted in Chile. Credit Natacha Pisarenko/Associated Press

Abortion laws in Latin America are some of the most restrictive in the world.

Only Cuba and Uruguay have legalized abortion. Abortion laws in Mexico are determined state by state; Mexico City adopted legislation in 2007 allowing women to have abortions in the first 12 weeks of pregnancy.

A handful of countries make some exceptions to bans on abortion. Last year, for instance, Chile added three exceptions to its ban: in the case of rape or incest; if the mother's life is at risk; or if the fetus has a fatal impairment.

What options do women seeking abortions have in Argentina?

Under current Argentine law, in place since 1921, abortion is legal only in cases of rape or if the pregnancy poses a risk to the woman's health.

But that doesn't mean women in Argentina are not having abortions. No official numbers are available, but Health Minister Adolfo Rubinstein has estimated there are more than 350,000 clandestine abortions every year. Human rights groups put the number higher, around 500,000 a year.

Many clandestine procedures are carried out with limited medical oversight. Complications from these abortions are the leading cause of maternal deaths in the country, researchers say, accounting for 18 percent of all maternal deaths in Argentina. About 45,000 to 60,000 women are hospitalized each year due to complications from these procedures.

What's going on in other countries?

Blue has become the color of Argentina's anti-abortion demonstrators. Credit Eitan Abramovich/Agence France-Presse - Getty Images

The women's rights movement has grown in Chile, where President, Michelle Bachelet extracted support last year from a deeply divided Congress for exceptions to its outright ban on abortions. The election of a new, right-wing president, Sebastián Piñera, may signal a turn away from an expansion of access to the procedure. Still, thousands of people rallied in Santiago last month to demand an overhaul of abortion laws, even adopting the green handkerchiefs popularized in Argentina.

In Brazil, deeply conservative and home to the world's largest population of Catholics, change has been slower. This month, Brazil's Supreme Court held a rare, two-day public hearing to consider whether its abortion laws were at odds with constitutional protections.

Like many countries in Latin American, Brazil forbids the termination of pregnancies with a few exceptions, including in cases of rape and when the woman's life is at risk. Women's rights activists hope the court's hearing will set off a nationwide debate, but no legislation is on the horizon.

What has the pope said?

Even as the proportion of Catholics in Argentina drops - from 87 percent in 1995 to 65 percent this year, according to poll from Latinobarómetro - the pope remains a powerful force in the country.

In March, Pope Francis wrote a letter to the Argentine people urging them to prioritize the "defense of life and justice," which many saw as a reminder of the church's opposition to abortion. More recently, at a meeting in Rome, the pope denounced abortion as the "white glove" equivalent of the Nazi-era eugenics program.

Ernesto Londoño and Daniel Politi contributed reporting.

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What to Know About Argentina's Vote on Abortion

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Argentina's Senate is set to debate a bill on Wednesday that would legalize abortion for pregnancies up to 14 weeks. The vote, in a predominantly Catholic nation that is also the home of Pope Francis, is expected to reverberate throughout the region.

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An opinion piece from an Australian Paralympian, Dylan Alcott, discussing the shame often felt throughout the disabled community. Whilst Dylan embraces and is proud of his disability, he believes that others often shy away from admitting that they are disabled - because when they do, society slaps a label on them and enforces certain restrictions. But, as he says, disability does not discriminate, and it should be celebrated and accepted as it is something that could happen to anyone of us. For able bodied humans, the stigma surrounding disability stems from a sentiment summed up by DeMello (2013):
“At some point, unless we die too soon, every abled-body person will themselves be disabled.  That’s one reason why those who are disabled are so stigmatised; because they remind us of our own vulnerability” (30).

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Having a disability is a natural, normal part of society. It can happen to anyone

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We as a society need to continue to further our expectations of what people with disability can actually do.

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DeMello, Margo. 2014. Introduction: Theorizing the Body, in Body Studies: An Introduction. Routledge: Oxford. 3-20

Douglas, Mary. 2003. Natural Symbols. London: Routledge.

Howson, Alexandra. 2013. The Body In Society. 2nd ed. Cambridge: Polity.

Richardson, Niall, and Adam Locks. 2014. Body Studies. London: Routledge.