I know people mean well by encouraging me to love myself. But I just don’t need that kind of outside encouragement, thank you very much. Because in spite of what other people want me to think, I am very proud of my stupid fucking body.
I don’t need your platitudes about self-love or loving my body no matter what. I don’t love my body because it’s good. I love my body because it’s dumb. And who am I to tell my body she’s okay just the way she is, when she already knows she’s just a crazy lil’ dum dum?
I know it’s a stupid fucking body, but it’s my stupid fucking body.
I know this might seem unconventional to some people. You’re supposed to hate your body so people can tell you to love it, that’s how society works. But that’s just not me. Ever since my dumbo body flopped out of my mom’s pretty normal-looking body, I’ve been very proud of it.
It has been through so many changes and I have confidently strutted through each one of them. My body was born in a dumb way, transformed quickly into a real dopey hippo, morphed into a massive moron during puberty, coasted as a muttonhead for quite a while, and now it’s all grown up and totally fucking stupid. A fully formed, stupid fucking body that carries me around all the time. It’s great, and I don’t need you to tell me to love my curves because I scream “YOU’RE A STUPID FUCKING BODY AND I LOVE YOU” proudly into the mirror every night!
I encourage others to feel the same amount of pride in their walking ham slab. Everyone, even you. Look at what a fool your body is. It’s a real nitwit and that is so great. Like wow, go you for living in that! Now go show it to the world!
I like to take my body out and show it off, too. And when people go “Wow, what a stupid body” instead of “you’re great just the way you are,” I am filled with joy. They get it. They get me!
That’s right, my body is a part of me no matter how much of a dodo it is. This dummy loser cell sack is the only one I’ll ever have, so I enjoy every second it.
