It was a hot late-summer evening (five minutes ago, whatever) and I was shucking corn for dinner (husking?) The kids were playing in the hammock, the evening sun was setting, the heat finally abating. I stood in the kitchen, shuck-husking in silent reflection (drinking Chardonnay, obviously). And then I was thinking about that thing people say about dignifying something with a response, and that other thing people say about attracting more bees with honey than vinegar -- or what the hell ever that saying is (bees actually make honey, so I don't even know if that makes sense).
And then I was thinking about the Cinnabon donut holes at Taco Bell that Sam told me about. Because donuts.
And then I looked down and there was a worm, RIGHT IN THE GOD BLESSED CORN. And it was alive. I was half-encouraged because it was alive (a positive indicator that there aren't THAT many pesticides in there) and then half-holy-shit-pissed that I had to lose 2/3 a cob to that little corn-boring asshole.
I was pretty firm in my conviction over the weekend that I wouldn't even address this Meanie Pants video lady, but then another person emailed me, and another and another, and said they actually felt really sh*tty about themselves after being pretty much being f*cking forced to watch that nonsense video.
And I remembered that there was a time I would have felt really sh*tty, too.
And yes, YouTube temporarily disabled her channel (yay for the Internet doing something nice!) And yes, 7,430 people have written and/or responded to Meanie Pants in some meaningful way (me now being 7,431). And yes, the Pumpkin Spice Latte is came back (Tuesday, September 8th. White People everywhere, rejoice!) so Meanie Pants is probably gonna be too busy to even care. AND it is, as of this writing, after Labor Day so Meanie Pants is going to need at least a day to pack up her white yoga pants and switch them out for her Victoria's Secret PINK sweatpants.
But all of that really is sort of irrelevant as I think about the people I know that are feeling like garbage, because some barely-known YouTuber, whose face just became recognizable to EVERY PERSON EVERYWHERE (at least the ones on the Internet), said some really mean (and ignorant) sh*t.
It's all been done. All the witty response videos, all the blog posts calling out her poor statistical data, all the hate, all the loathing, all of it.
Here's what hasn't been done -- well, to be fair, it probably has been done, because there are almost literally zero original ideas on the internet anymore -- I'm not talking to her, I'm talking to YOU. All of you who just can't NOT watch this garbage. All of you who were tagged in this crap. Anyone who feels marginalized by this fountain of neon-lipstick-bleach-blonde-Ugg-wearing hate, this is for you.
You are f*cking beautiful. Yeah, I said f*ck -- because I MEAN IT. The world doesn't get to decide what beauty is. If they did, there would be literally one type of beauty, and it would be a blonde woman with giant tits and no pubic hair -- including her actual a**hole. (THANKS, PORN.) Beauty is more than your chemically-treated hair. If you're an a**hole, and you have gorgeous blonde hair, you are STILL AN A**HOLE. Period.
No one can steal your joy. No. They can't, if you won't let them. DO NOT let them. Smile at them and tell them you're sorry they haven't figured it out yet. They haven't figured it out yet. Happy people don't intentionally hurt other people. Unless they are a sociopath and then they only think they are happy.
Being fat is not the worst thing you can be. There are an infinite number of things you could be that are so.much.worse than fat. For example: racist, sexist, bigoted, mean to people on the Internet, mean to babies, mean to cats, that person who takes up two parking spaces, that person who uses 23 hashtags after every Instagram picture.
Being fat doesn't automatically equal being sad. You don't have to let any aspect of your body impact your ability to feel love and happiness.
Being thin doesn't automatically equal happy. Thin people who shame other people on the internet? Thanks. You just proved my point. PS I was skinny. Really skinny. I had an eating disorder. I wasn't happy.
IF you sit on your sofa and eat cookies. OH WELL. Guess what? You are in charge of your whole entire life. If you want a cookie, EAT A COOKIE. F*ck anyone who tells you you can't have a cookie. Have the cookie.
Just because you are fat doesn't mean you are going to die simply because you are fat. You could get hit by a bus. You could die of cancer. Lightning could strike. You could get bit by a f*cking deadly-ass Australian spider (though probably not, unless you live in Australia.) You could get heart disease or diabetes, but if you do A.) it's not necessarily because you are fat and B.) if it is because you are fat, OH WELL. Your health is your business. There are plenty of thin people with high cholesterol. There are also plenty of thin people with diabetes. Cancer doesn't give a shit what your BMI is. (Read HEAS for more info.)
You are deserving of love and happiness and all the awesome shit life has to offer, because you exist. You literally don't have to do anything else. You were born. The end.
More from Ravishly:
If you're struggling with an eating disorder, call the National Eating Disorder Association hotline at 1-800-931-2237.