Sometimes waking up in the morning can feel like entering a war zone. Messages bombard us on every side: “Look like this!” “Dress like that!” “Eat this, not that!” “Try this miracle weight loss cure, and you can finally be happy and worthwhile as a human being!” Sometimes, it can be hard to remember that there’s another way to function.
The Body Pacifist is your proverbial olive branch, your retreat from the chaos. Here, body-negative norms are dissected, discussed, and discarded. Here, every body is acceptable, because it is yours, and therefore your jurisdiction. Here, recovery is tracked and celebrated, every step of the way. Every long, hard, seemingly impossible step towards the greatest thing of all: a world without eating disorders, fat shaming, body judgment, or self-hate.
This is in no way meant to substitute for real-time, professional support. That said, there are few things more lonely than thinking you’re the only one going through these kinds of problems with your body and yourself.
You’re not. We’re in this together.
And together, we can enact change through awareness and a refusal to settle for the status quo.
Now, fast facts about me.
Name: Allison Epstein.
Occupation: Marketing copywriter, historical fiction enthusiast, aggressive Michigan football fan, fiction writer with a thing for smooth-talking demons in three-piece suits. Check out my online portfolio here, if that floats your boat.
Former occupation: Up until recently, I was an editor of Adios Barbie, an online body image community that provides articles and resources for readers of all body types and identities. I can’t rep this site hard enough — it’s been preaching the body positive gospel since 1998. Go check it out: Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.
Advocates for: Body positivity, eating disorder recovery and awareness, and the Oxford comma.
Other interests: I’m currently hard at work on revisions and rewrites on a historical fiction novel (too many revisions? Too hard at work? Difficult to say). Other than that, I’m into sleeping, rereading Tamora Pierce books, and loudly singing the entire Hamilton soundtrack in my car with no regard for strangers staring at me at stoplights. (I’m sorry you don’t understand joy, sir.)