I’m not really a summer person.

In a prior time in my life, I would have said that I disliked summer because I was fat; I was always hot, sweaty and uncomfortable. But as I’ve worked to heal my relationship with my body image, I realize that I no longer need to scapegoat my body when I say I don’t like the summer as much as I love the fall. (I’ll take pumpkin spice + cozy sweaters over humidity any day).

Even though I have moved to a place of healing , that doesn’t mean I don’t experience discomfort in the summer season. I’ve also learned that my neurodivergence heightens sensory discomfort, which means sweating and extreme heat can feel unbearable to me.

Heat and sweat are unavoidable in the summer. And so are feelings of body grief and discomfort. But with toxic wellness culture louder than ever, the pressure to shrink ourselves in order to wear that swimsuit, the shame we feel about sweating or about our thigh chafing can feel intolerable.

And it sucks.

While telling you that you can wear and eat whatever the f*ck you want in the body you are in now, and it doesn’t matter if you sweat or chafe— doesn’t doesn’t make the shame or body grief disappear.

Though there is no quick fix to working through these feelings, I want to share a few tips that I use to make this season feel so much more tolerable — especially if you are in a fat body.

Bri’s Top 3 Fat Tips to Tolerate Summer Body Grief

Tip #1: Prepare for Your Day In Advance

Check the weather in advance before you leave the house, including the humidity. Make a plan for how you will tolerate the heat. If you know you are going to sweat, prepare to navigate that hurdle.

For me this means either bringing paper towels or a rag, wearing sweat absorbent clothing, or bringing a hat or fan.

For example, when I go to the airport, I always wear my Superfit Hero wear. I know that it will keep me cool and I don’t have to worry about sweat prints.

Another example, when I went speed dating, I purposefully wore my hair up because I knew that it would help to keep my temperature down.

I wore this hat after a pool day because I knew that I would be warm. Keeping the sun off my face helped keep my body temperature partially regulated.

It feels like a simple answer, but it can really help to be creative around heat hurdles. I’ve done things that may seem embarrassing to admit— like putting paper towels under my boobs or under my apron belly. But I’d rather sit in the discomfort of embarrassment for a few moments before hand than sit in the discomfort of chafing later.

Tip #2: Chafing Prevention + Care

If you’ve ever been embarrassed by awkward and uncomfortable chafing, know that this isn’t an exclusively fat person issue. I’ve tried so many of the products out there to prevent chafing, and here are some of my favorite.

• Gold Bond Anti Friction Stick or Spray: This stick was one of the first products I used. Overtime, I found the spray was helpful for hard to reach areas. I love that it has aloe in it – which is extra soothing when your skin feels raw.

• Mega Babe Thigh Rescue: Years later, I discovered Mega Babe’s anti-chafing products. Mega Babe is a female owned business and I have liked more than just their anti-chafing products. I especially like their bust dust for that uncomfortable boob sweat.

• Anti-Monkey Butt (AMB) Anti-Fiction Products: Last year, AMB (formerly Anti-Monkey Butt) sent me some of their products. Not only do they win of the funniest name in the anti-chafe game, but their pink Lady Friction powder has calamine in it. It smells so good but also offers really soothing component to your skin. You can read all about my experience here.

• Thigh Society Anti-Chafe Slip Short Underwear: Thigh Society offers slip shorts from sizes XS– 6XL. I especially like that they offer different fabrics, which are great when you experience sensory discomfort. My favorites are their cooling shorts, they are buttery soft.

• Snag Tights Chub Rub Shorts: Snag offers an unparalleled color selection (30+ options!) and an inclusive size range of 0-32. These shorts are a little more sheer, but they never roll or ride up. Snag has other products that I highly recommend checking out including plus size towels, tights + robes!

If you’ve already chafed, best care is to wash and dry the area (and keep it dry). I find that using an anti-fungal spray after chafing brings relief and a quicker healing time.

Tip #3: BYOC (Bring Your Own Chair)

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve showed up to a summer bbq only to realize… I don’t fit in their outdoor furniture. That’s why I am a strong proponent of BYOC, or bring your own chair. Sure, it can be a little embarrassing to waltz in with my own chair, it is far less distressful than showing up and realizing I can’t sit down. My favorite camping chair is the Guide Gear Club Camping Chair. It’s light weight, easy to open and close + hold up to 500lb capacity. It’s also really comfortable!

Sometimes, need an accommodation can feel like the most difficult thing in the world.

If that’s you now, I want you to ask yourself if you have the capacity to sit with the feelings of grief that might arise. If you’re not able to do that right now, that’s totally okay. If you feel you do have capacity, remember to treat those feelings with curiosity and not self-criticism.

Ask yourself what you need at that moment and make those accommodations without judgement: what would it look like if I collaborated with my body instead of against it?

Summer is allowed to feel difficult and uncomfortable, but your body doesn’t have to be the scapegoat for why it is difficult. And if you want some practical ways to explore your body grief with curiosity instead of criticism, be sure to download my free 7 Step Guide a great resource to get started.

If you have any other fat hacks for surviving the summer season, comment below! And if you’re anything like me, here’s some great news: only 60ish days until the fall…

Stay cool, friends!

Welcome to Fat Tuesday.

Fat Tuesdays are when I’ll share amazing products I love and use, all of which are genuinely fat friendly.

When you exist in a larger body, I don’t need to tell you how much additional labor it is for us to find simple essentials that folks in smaller bodies are able to find easily. And when we’re constantly told to make ourselves smaller to fit, it can feel harder than ever to find products that work for bigger bodies. I know that grief and exhaustion all too well.

On Fat Tuesdays, let me take that work off your shoulders and recommend some of my favorite products and brands.

Today, let’s talk about one of the important things in your home: your mattress.

And for me, there is only one mattress brand I’ll ever use: Big Fig Mattress.

I’m excited to share my Big Fig experience with you because this mattress literally changed MY LIFE!

Olaf think it’s his mattress.

Also the sheets are from Wayfair.

We all know the importance of sleep and that having a good mattress is a game-changer there. But have you also considered that the way a mattress supports your body at night can make a huge difference when it comes to chronic pain?

When you are in a larger body, finding a supportive mattress is so difficult. And when you’re in a larger body AND dealing with chronic pain? It can feel impossible.

Before Big Fig, I thought all mattresses were the same: prone to going concave in the middle if I dared to move in my sleep. The mattresses I used in the past made me think that the sinking, quicksand-y feeling was all I could ever have in a bed.

To be honest, I used to think my body was the reason beds were so uncomfortable.

Until I tried Big Fig Mattress.

Big Fig Mattress that creates mattresses specifically for bigger bodies. Each of their mattresses is thoughtfully designed to accommodate and support larger bodies, ensuring that we can get a restorative night sleep. They’ve created a mattress that enables us to actually roll around or lounge in our beds and not feel like we’re sinking, thanks to high-density foam and a reinforced edge.

When I bought my house, having a comfortable mattress was a major priority. From the moment I unpacked my Big Fig mattress, I found exactly that.

Three years ago, Big Fig was kind enough to send me their Big Fig Classic Queen Mattress, which has medium-firm support and also features an adjustable base.

I can tell you with confidence that this mattress has transformed my sleep and has provided chronic pain relief like no other mattress I’ve ever had before.

The adjustable base allows me to change positions when I sleep to accommodate my back pain, and because Big Fig truly designs with larger bodies in mind, I am able to use this mattress as a tool in my pain management arsenal. For the first time, I have a firm-but-soft mattress with NO QUICKSAND feeling or concave sinking in the middle.

A supportive mattress that feels like it’s made for me and enables me to actually prioritize rest?! That is so rare. And you deserve that kind of good rest too, friends. From my experience with Big Fig, they are worth the hype.

If this post is making you rethink everything about your mattress, I know the feeling.

Check out Big Fig’s mattresses for yourself today!

I regret having bariatric surgery.

On May 10th, 2010 — at 19 years old, I underwent bariatric weight loss surgery.

As we are exiting the acceptance of body positivity and cycling through the Ozempic Era with a return to the 90’s body ideals of heroine chic —

I always feel the need to state and share that this is my personal experience. No two experiences are alike. If you are post bariatric and you believe that your decision was the right decision for you, this probably won’t be the episode for you.

If you read or listen to this episode, and it causes unrest about whether or not you “should” have surgery – I need you to know something

Your autonomy to change your body is still 100% yours.

This is my experience and may not be yours.

But I still encourage you to sit in the discomfort of hearing another side — a side you probably aren’t used to hearing.

Ragen Chastain, Board Certified Patient Advocate, researcher + author of the substack Weight and Healthcare says that there are three categories of people who talk about their bariatric experience.

The Happy Group.

The UnHappy Group.

And the Dead Group.

Stereotypically we only hear from the Happy Group.

Let’s go back to 2010.

As I shared in an “what no one tells you when the dress doesn’t fit”

I decided to have bariatric surgery after many failed attempts to successfully lose weight the old fashioned way.

Retrospectively, here are things that are important to note.

I craved that attention.

I yearned to be told how proud people would be for how hard I worked.

Because despite my hardest efforts — I never seemed to be able to sustain any significant amount of weight loss.

I wanted the success of weight loss because:

• I wanted to be able to buy and wear cute clothes.

• I wanted the attention of men.

• I wanted people to praise me and be impressed by me because of my body.

I learned very quickly how uncouth it was to utter these things aloud.

I also adapted to what language was permissive.

But even if any of these were actually true— it really came secondary to wanting to no longer to hate what I saw in the mirror.

I’ll never forget the day before my surgery.

I ordered a “last meal” that I swore I’d never let myself eat again after the surgery.

I was hoping this would be the last time I had to look at this hideous thing.

I knew what I was giving up.

I knew that my food intake would be restricted. That I probably wouldn’t be able to eat many of the foods I loved. But I was willing to forsake food at the promise of thinness.

As I stared at my naked body, the cellulite, the softness, the parts that sagged and jiggled and brought me so much shame.

I had a strange but intrusive thought:

This isn’t going to work.

Baffled by this notion, I was able to reorient thinking: This HAS to work. And it’s going to because I know how I will try. There is NOTHING I can’t put my mind to.

In 2026, as I reflect on my 19 year old prophetic mind, I realize what my subconscious was trying to tell me back then.

You will never be able to hate yourself into a body you accept.

I remember the yearning in wanting my body to match the expectation I had in my mind.

And when it didn’t, I would be devastated.

The body dysmorphia of seeing myself as a smaller version in my mind only to not have it match what I saw in the mirror was soul crushing.

I couldn’t understand how my body was shrinking, but the visceral hatred stayed the same.

I finally got the praise and adoration for my body — but it didn’t feel as rewarding as I hoped. Instead I felt like a spectacle being held under a microscope, waiting for them to find the flaw they missed and rescind their praise. It unlocked a new fear— that I could never let myself regain weight.

I remember asking someone who had surgery before me when the self esteem shit would improve… and they said,

 “Unfortunately, there is no surgery for that. That work is done in your mind”.

I think back to nineteen year old Bri and I just wish I could hug her.

She was so lost + was so desperately trying to find herself.

Her self esteem was so low, her only hope was anchored in the belief that if she could just lose the weight, she wouldn’t hate herself so much.

I believed that if I could shed the fat suit I was imprisoned in, everything would change.

Everyone else would see my charismatic personality this body cavity holds.

A man would desire me so much he would love me, but not just because of my body.

I would feel confident and courage.

And be able to find and wear clothes that I find beautiful and loved.

That I’d be able to look in the mirror at my naked body and love what I saw.

That I could be proud of my hard work.

And that THEN I could go on to the things I want to do.

When I lose the weight—

• Then I could pursue a career in theater or whatever else I wanted

• I could go out on dates and wear cute clothes

• But nearly a year into the surgery, and I had only lost a quarter of the weight I was promised no matter how much effort I gave it.

I had given up my autonomy around food, to eat with the risk of feeling sick, to barely lose weight and not feel any more confident then I started.

I felt lied to.

The surgery I had was the lap band – I’m not even sure they do this one anymore. It was a new surgery at the time and considered less invasive then the RNY.

In 2010, research supported that Lap band surgery could help people lose up to 50% of their “excess” weight.

I honestly can’t even remember exactly what I weighed. But whatever it was, it was over that imaginary line I had drawn in the sand of “how much weight was too much”. That number I deemed irredeemable that once you cross the threshold, there becomes another number that is “just too much”.

One of the complications I experienced with my bariatric surgery was I would feel like food was lodged in my chest, creating a burning sensation that often cued me to try and force myself to throw up. [As an eating disorder therapist, the irony of my medically sanctioned procedure that produces effects that mimic that of an eating disorder is a painful reality.]

Not being able to eat without the risk of excruciating pain, falling into a deeper depression as the hatred for my body only intensified, all the while trying to masquerade as a successful and well adjusted college student made life even bleaker.

• I still wasn’t dating (because of course, I felt hideous, other men had to think so to)

• I still wasn’t wearing cute clothes (because I was trying to hide my body and didn’t feel worthy of buying cute clothes)

• I still wasn’t pursuing the activities I wanted to — only the ones I believed would help me secure the smaller body I desperately needed.

• I stood on the scale every chance I could, just to make sure the number didn’t go up. That became a new fear every time I was praised for that smaller body. I better not regain this…everyone will notice when I do…

But then the scale stopped going down. And somehow, it was my fault. That “the surgery was a tool, not a magic wand”. That– even though I had cut out a significant amount of food, there were probably still foods I was eating stalling my weight loss. Or the movements I was doing were not conducive for weight loss.

And I believed them.

I was the failure, not the “tool”. Once again, I fucked this up. And the hope of my lifesaving body kept slipping further and further out of my grip.

Coming back to the year 2026, my heart is so burdened for the younger version of myself who made the best decision she could with the information she had at the time.

But I am also so burdened for the people in 2026 who still carry the weight of this albatross as their life’s mission to cure.

In 2010 – the lap band weight loss surgery was the second most popular weight loss surgery option. The research supported that people would lose up to 50% of their “excess weight” within the first few years.

In 2026 – the lap band weight loss surgery is practically obsolete. Research has documented that more than 50% of original band users have the band removed due to complications, band erosion, impact on quality of life + not losing weight.

This is one of the many reasons I am not psyched about the GLP1 Bandwagon.

I’ve hitched my cart to too many wagons that promised, “we’ve finally solved it”. But all the while those selling me the wagons were only invested in solving the problem for me for the day — not for the rest of my life.

And when the wagon failed, it was clearly user error.

They also failed to study the long term consequences that come from this wagon.

• What will the research about GLP1s for weight loss say in 16 years?

• What will the long term health impacts be?

• How long will the weight loss be sustainable?

I was warned that if I eat too quickly food might get stuck and I may have to throw up in order to release it.

I was warned I could regain weight through liquids.

I was told that I would have the surgery laparoscopically, but the only way to remove it was through open surgery, leaving me with a 3” scare across my abdomen.

I was never told that there was a possibility that the surgery wouldn’t work (unless of course I did something wrong). I was never told that 50% of people would end up getting theirs removed (of course, because they didn’t know yet) But despite not knowing, they had no problem performing this surgery on a nineteen year old girl. In the name of health, of course.

I didn’t know that I would develop gastroparesis– which impacts my ability to digest food properly. I spent the better part of a decade in the bathroom with medical professionals puzzled and chalking my symptoms to anxiety, IBS, or of course— my BMI.

I’m not here to convince anyone that bariatric surgery or a GLP1 or any other weight loss approach is morally wrong. It’s not.

I just want to offer an opinion from the group that is not often heard.

When I talk openly about my disdain for my bariatric surgery, many people who have had the surgery become defensive.

They say, “I’m feeling great!” or “Well all my lab values improved” etc.

Mine did too, at first.

I am several years down the road you’re traveling.

And maybe they know a lot more than the did back then.

But I was never even offered another perspective.

My bariatric experience is just as valid as yours. And my experience doesn’t invalidate yours.

I just believe people deserve to hear both sides of the experience.

And so often, so many of us who are in the Unhappy Group feel so much shame for “failing”, we never talk about our experience.

I always believed that shame would brand me like a scarlet letter until I finally succeeded, till I finally lost weight.

And I’m living proof that true health + relief from body hatred is possible EVEN if you don’t lose weight.

I’m several pounds away from that original fear number I didn’t want to weigh back in 2010.

I am managing my gastroparesisas well as other my other medical concerns that went untreated for years.

This doesn’t guarantee me perfect lab work or a painless body.

But I go to my doctors regularly, consistently collaborate with them on how to continue to prioritize my health.

Going consistently to the doctors is one of the most transformational things I’ve done for my health.

I healed my relationship to food.

I no longer battle around “what do I eat” and instead wholly trust myself to make the right decisions for my body. Sometimes, I get it wrong (ie, I’m still hungry, too full, and get stomach aches). But this isn’t a moral failing, just really cool information that allows me to continue to trust my body for the next meal. Having ADHD sometimes makes decision making harder, but I have learned to work with the brain I have, instead of trying to conform to the systems assigned to me.

I healed my relationship to movement.

For years I used movement as a way to manipulate my body size. Then I spent more years trying to motivate myself to move my body through external reward (I legit made a sticker chart one year…) I used exercise to manage anxiety that really needed medication. And I bypassed years of burnout by forcing my body to move when it was begging me for rest.

This week — I didn’t do any formal workout. The week simply didn’t permit for it plus I was feeling unwell midweek. The kindest way to honor my body was to listen to it. But much like needing to go to the bathroom or needing a beverage— my body urges me towards movement. Once given adequate rest and permission NOT to move without falling into a shame spiral, movement (like food) became intuitive for the first time.

I’ve discovered movement I love. And discovered movement that bores me. And I’m unapologetic about the movements I don’t care for – no matter how unpopular it appears.

I no longer see pain as punishment but instead my body communicating to me in the only way she knows how. It’s an opportunity to connect and recalibrate rather than disconnect, shame, and try and alter.

I’m no longer accosted by my naked body in the mirror. I no longer avoid looking or feel immense shame when I see my softness, my curves, the parts I still don’t “like” or find aesthetically pleasing. And while I can now look at my body with fondness and an appreciation and not viscerally hate— when I can find myself sexy or attractive, it does not mean it is absent of parts I still don’t enjoy. But they are other things I don’t enjoy; flossing my teeth, olives, making phone calls.

The difference is those dislikes don’t cause me distress. They don’t dictate my goodness or morality. I make no other meaning from it.

This drastic change from all encompassing body hatred to radical acceptance did not happen all at once. But here is what had to happen to get there:

1.I had to let go of the thin ideal

For years, I hinged my hope on the notion that one day, if I worked hard enough, I could achieve the body I always dreamed of having.

I started to float the idea — what IF that doesn’t happen? What if I am trapped inside this fat body forever?

I cried a lot.

I journaled a lot.

I said the quiet parts out loud.

I reckoned with the worst case scenarios and whether or not I believed I could survive that.

2.I began to deprogram from the cult of diet culture and wellness culture that has been so silently embedded into the fabric of our culture

I began to notice the fallacies.

I developed awareness around beliefs I no longer wanted to cosign, even if it was unpopular.

3.I practiced sitting in the suck of uncomfortable body image beliefs while also listening to my nervous systems limitations

I paid attention how my body communicated to me
But I also paid attention to how I communicated to it

I separated out the physical discomfort from the emotional distress

To create space for a new neural pathways

4. I built an arsenal of coping skills to manage distressful body image

I stopped judging difficult body image moments
And instead learned how to de-escalate from “this feels unsafe” to “this feels uncomfortable”

I learned how to be resourceful enough

5. I healed myself esteem

Through body connection that wasn’t too distressful and reshaping the way I spoke to and about myself and my body — I realized how disconnected from myself I had become.

I had learned how to shape shift into the person I believed other people wanted me to be, but I never truly connected to what I wanted or needed. And when I did identify want or need, I wondered how that would impact other people.

I realized this adaptive behavior was created to keep me safe, but instead it was imprisoning me from the inside.

I learned how many of my body image issues were hiding their real identities: self esteem wounds.

By reconnecting to my values, practicing to trust my body + speaking to myself with compassion + unconditional positive regard — I was able to highlight the gap of my mind (how I want to be able to think) to my heart (how I actually feel/ respond). And I was able to do this by

6. Unpacking my core belief wounds

Yes, did I want a smaller body to be healthier? Sure.

Because being in this fat body meant I would have a harder time going to the doctors and being believed.

Being in this fat body meant I would have a hard time accessing clothes, public spaces + would constantly live in fear of if I would fit, both physically, and mentally.

Being in this fat body meant that no one would ever be proud of me and there would never be a man who would ever desire to be with me.

By recognizing the dissonance between the core belief wounds of my heart and how they differed from the values I hold – I knew I needed to create a shift around my thinking and no longer let these wounds speak uninterrupted.

7. I created statements of truth or impactful reframes

Not lukewarm affirmations or silver lining sympathies

But statements and beliefs that are also true

That when (not if) the harmful beliefs arose, I had something to challenge them with

Not to fix or heal, but to sit alongside

And offer an additional truth for this thought process to flow through

8. I offered myself moments to reparent old wounds

That when I’d try on last years clothes and they didn’t fit —

I could see the pathway of falling into a shame spiral, but also see the pathway that I would never let any person cosign the belief that they were bad because clothes didn’t fit them.

I’d sit in the dissonance of those opposing beliefs.

When I’d be rejected by a man on a dating site–

I’d acknowledge how harmful this feels, but also acknowledge that this wouldn’t want to be a person I dated anyway. I’d sit in the dissonance of feeling hurt and angered. Future crisis averted and this still fucking hurts.

When I’d sit down with my friends at a diner and the booth no longer fit me —

I could make space for the utter shame I felt in that moment, but also recognize if anyone else experienced this, I wouldn’t feel ashamed of them. Rather, I’d feel pissed for them.

In all these moments, I allowed my most healed self to come through to my current wounded self. And while it didn’t magically feel different in the moment, over time I began to notice a subtle shift

9. I started living the life I wanted in the body I had.

I stopped working out formally for more than 5 years to give my body a chance to recover burnout + exercise abuse.

I started dating in the body I have, and found that it was more rare to find men who weren’t attracted to me then men who were…

I traveled, bought clothes, went to the theater — all while asking for accommodations for my body and not getting angry with myself when an accommodation was needed. With clothes, I’d let myself grieve for the difficulty in finding what I wanted, but also continue to search for something that felt like me!

It wasn’t without difficulty or moments of shame or even moments I needed to give up on for a little while —- it was like learning a new language.

10. I uncovered the power of community + celebrating the smallest wins

Being able to name out loud to people who wouldn’t rush me to gratitude, or tell me to change what I didn’t like about myself, or tell me, “You’re beautiful”.

The people who were able to say:  I see you in this darkness and I’m holding your hand.

And being able to acknowledge that even that step alone is a step in a different direction.

I know myself very well, and I know that there was nothing current day Bri could have told 19 year old Bri that would have made her change her mind.

She was committed to this surgery + the taste of relief was so close, she was willing to accept the high risk that it might not work out for the fragile strand of hope that whispered “but maybe this time will be different”.

But my surgery’s failure, my education in becoming a therapist + then my experience working in eating disorder recovery as a provider all fractured the foundation of my “hope”.

In 2026, I can promise you without an utterance of doubt: I will never again pursue intentional weight loss.

I’ve had so many clients and followers tell me they feared me changing my mind and one day deciding to pursue weight loss.

While I cannot promise that my body won’t change (cause… that’s what bodies do)-- I know that I can promise to never go down that path again.

I found joy in singing; I found my voice in song and in self advocacy.

I have traveled, and seen things I’d pinned on my pinterest board for “someday”

In my fattest body I:

• Built a helping business that has generated over a million dollars in all time revenue

• Become a prominent leader in my field

• I bought a house without a partner

• Had some of the steamiest makeout sessions I’ve ever had

• Seen half a dozen Broadway shows

• Joined (and quit) a Choir

• Cultivated a closet of clothes I absolutely adore

• Found freedom with food without counting macros or cutting out food groups

• Created a movement habit without coercion or external motivation

Make no mistake. It has not been all pleasant.

I’ve made some very bad business decisions that cost me financially.

I made some calculation errors in how much this undertaking of a home on my own would be

I’ve cried a lot of tears over men who definitely didn’t deserve me.

I’ve been mad over how complicated trying to find clothes that I love can be

You don’t get to experience the joy of living without experiencing the grief of living too.

There is no body, no privilege, no product that can protect you from the reality of grief – with your body and beyond.

If you ask me today if I regret having bariatric surgery, I would say yes.

You have the innate right to change your body if you desire.

But you will never experience the unwavering relief you crave if you don’t also do the mindset work. Otherwise the goal post of what your body should look like will always keep moving.

It is what David Kessler and the Elisabeth Kubler Ross Foundation consider to be the 6th stage of grief: Finding Meaning.

Although I don’t wish my experience of body grief on any person, and I accept that there is no undoing what has already happened—

I find solace that my grief has birthed a new ideal around body image that has brought healing to so many.

You don’t have to choose between body hate or body love— but that instead, you can radically accept the body you have right now.

But without ostentatious exaggerations of body appreciation, but a quiet surrender of no longer fighting what you never really had long term control over.

You can control and change your habits to manipulate your body.

But that doesn’t mean you will have the body you worked for.

And you have permission to grieve that hurt. And it is through that grief, and letting others witness that grief where the real healing actually happens.

It is an honor to share my body grief story with you.

Thank you for giving my body grief purpose.

I love you all.

If you would like to co-create healing around your body grief, be sure to check out how to work with me, specifically my Body Grievers Live Course.

Let’s talk about body confidence.

I was on vacation swimming in my aunt’s pool and decided to post a video of me in a bathing suit.

The post accidentally popped off.

Yes, I’m a superfat person in a two piece bathing suit.

Yes, at one point in my life – this would have been radical (I never believed I would be that “body positive” person).

I sent the video to a sometimes fun-time guy I’d been seeing. And his reaction made me smirk:

I thought to myself, if you could have told 26 year old Bri that not only would she be wanted + desired in her fattest body — but that she wouldn’t actively hate her body any more, I would have never believed you.

So that was my line.

“I’m losing weight but it’s for my health.” I call this a red herring; one of the most widely used objections to existing in a large body is the fear of health. This is one of the 3 most common barriers to body acceptance.

We’d be here for days if I sat and listed all the ways I tried to “improve” my health over the years. But my weight loss story always ended the same.

I stayed tried and true to a diet for an exceedingly long time (6 months + beyond, NEVER cheating once. I’m a Scorpio and I have ADHD – try and tell me I can’t do something and watch me prove you wrong).

My weight would only fluctuate slightly. And then I would become so frustrated, I’d give up.

And every time I gave up, it became harder and harder to get back on the bandwagon.

I remember having bariatric surgery at just 19 years old.

The year was 2010.

I was so ashamed of having this procedure because I felt like I was “cheating” or “giving up” so I didn’t really tell people unless I had to.

Like when I’d get a piece of food lodged in my chest and would have to go throw up immediately after a meal. Or I’d order food and only be able to eat 1/4 of it.

I remember implementing a lot of actual behavior health changes (some disordered, some not). I started working out consistently. I swapped sandwiches for salads (cause I couldn’t eat bread without getting sick/ or it getting stuck) and was really satisfied with how differently I began to feel.

I remember driving back to my bariatric doctors appointment, so excited to revel in the behavior changes I’d made and to see how much weight I lost.

When I stepped on the scale, I was disappointed with how little the scale changed.

I hoped my doctor would have celebrated my changes, the little weight loss I experienced – anything.

I cried the entire way home, thinking about what changes I would still need to make in order to “do better.”

There’s more to this story and you can check it out on episode 21 of the Body Grievers® Club podcast, Bri’s Body Image Breaking Point, where I talk all about my bariatric surgery experience.

I remember the people around me started to notice the body changes. And as people do, they started complementing me.

They‘d say You look so good. I’d think Did I look bad before?

You’re so skinny. You must have a seeing problem.

Good job, girl. You’re just saying that.

You’re an inspiration. What happens if I regain this weight?

I had lost about ¼ of the the weight they told me I should be able to lose. And I felt like a failure. How could I fail even at bariatric surgery. I was smaller. But I thought being smaller would mean I would hate my body less.

I was at my smallest BMI and the most self conscious and depressed I had ever been. Of course, everything needs to be considered in context: my parents were getting divorced, I didn’t tell anyone that either. I started my job as an RA and my undiagnosed ADHD made work/ life balance hard.

But all that time, the hatred of my body size weighed me down (no pun intended) like an albatross around my neck.

I would look at photos of myself and think – it’s not good enough yet or you’re still so gross.

Fast forward to 2016.

I had an epiphany the year before while in the middle of my graduate program to become a mental health counselor and working an internship in eating disorder recovery – that there is not one year of my life I can solidly remember NOT being on a diet, weight loss journey or “health journey.”

I realized that I had put my life on hold. And I was waiting till I “lost the weight.”

I was waiting to go on my fist date.
To go on vacation + wear a bathing suit on the beach.

To be seen in photos.

There are months and years at a time where I have no photos of me because of the grief of being in them.

And in 2015 I hit my second breaking point. And said – what if I just started living my life on purpose. I can still do the “health promoting things” I want, but what if I live my life also.

And that’s exactly what I did.

I went on my first date at 25. I went on vacation, wore a bathing suit + took a picture in it. And you know how I felt?

Fucking terrified + sad as fuck.

There is a common misconception that the way we become confident is doing the thing (which has truth to it). But why the hell would you feel any differently?

This is why body connection is so pivotal to healing your relationship to your body.

So many of us have lived in a state of disconnection as a means to survival, that we only learn to connect to our body when bad shit is happening.

When we feel pain or discomfort, our brain signals a fire alarm to our body letting us know it senses danger.

But the reality is our brains hear the alarm and thinks “STOP DROP AND ROLL” when the reality is we just need a battery change.

You are without doubt that you are a human being worthy of respect, human decency + equity.

Unfortunately for fat people, this is not the case.

In Kate Mann’s book, Unshrinking she says, “Imposter syndrome is a social reality for fat people”. Where most people might feel a little nervous going on a date, the fat persons fear that someone will reject them because of their body is a very possible reality.

That fear has a basis.

What we have to do is decide if we are cosigning that belief system.

For years, I believed that there was no way any man could want me because of my body. I always thought maybe in spite of my body, I could sucker some poor guy into wanting to be with me. As I got older, and began dabbling with more online dating – I became aware and feared being fetishized because of my body.

The difference between appreciating my body and fetishizing my body is like how I feel about a man with a beard. It does not disappoint but it’s certainly not a deal breaker for me. Unfortunately some of the online spaces, it definitely propped up men with fetishes — thus supporting my belief that it was the only way to be desired.

Fast forward to 2026.

I’m still very single — and still very unfortunately attracted to men 🙁 (relax not all men but like.. c’mon).

But for the first time in my entire life and actively dating and playing the field – I have absolutely no concerns that I can find a man who is attracted to me.

And you know what that does to my first date jitters?

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOTHING.

I imagined that dating while feeling confident meant I was gonna be fearless. But all it means is that I’m human with a regular sized fear of being rejected. And my body is no longer the scapegoat for why someone may not like me.

Because if my body did disqualify me, that is not a person I’d want to be with anyway.I like to say the trash has a great way of taking itself out.

So how did I go from 2010 Bri to 2016 Bri to finally get here to 2026 Bri –

I don’t love the word confidence. I much prefer the word self assurance.

Self assurance means

Without doubt, to be certain of

Here’s four things I would do if I wanted to become more self assured

1.I would build CURIOUS objective awareness around how I speak to and about myself.

I used to start small.

When I’d make a mistake I’d say to myself, you’re such an idiot.

I began recognizing that this isn’t kind or a way I would speak to anyone else.

The more I paid attention, the more I realized how overly critical I was to myself.

And the criticism wasn’t actually resolving the wound.

2. I got clear on my values + explored how to align more with them

I had a therapist who would always ask me this question, “does that belief bring you closer or further from your values”. Alright, Maggie – obviously me saying that I’m disgusting is not bringing me closer to the values I care about. But I still FEEL disgusting.

I got in the habit of actively thought stopping, implementing a shift in how I spoke to and about myself even if it didn’t result in the way I wanted.

For example – When I’d be running late. In a prior time, I’d berate myself for being late. When I noticed the berating, I’d stop and say, “what is it that I’m feeling right now? Is the way I’m speaking to and about myself going to help me stop running late?”. When I recognized where the problem was – I exited the loop of self criticism (even if I wasn’t yet ready to enter the loop of positive reframes).

3. I began contrasting and comparing where I felt confident vs when I felt insecure

I liken confidence to a chair (and as most fat people know, not every chair is supportive).

If your body trust was a chair, what kind of chair would it be? Would it be a solid cement bench or one of those flimsy lawn chairs that will snap the second you hover over it.

What are the “cement chairs” in your life?

What are the things you are most confident in and why?

My cement bench would be my clinical skills.

I am without doubt that I am an excellent provider. It is a skillset that comes easy to me + one I really love being able to use to help others.

Why am I confident in my therapeutic skills?

For one thing– I have studied and practiced these skills for nearly 10 years. I wasn’t always confident. I remember before my very first client in eating disorder recovery I locked myself in the bathroom and had a talk with myself in the mirror. I was terrified. I am no longer terrified. That does not mean I never make mistakes, get it wrong, cause harm. But I trust my skill and myself enough to repair when I’m wrong + continue to provide beneficial support

So time, practice, research + an embodiment of my methodology.

There is plenty of research to support that debating isn’t actually productive. When people hold positions and beliefs about something — information isn’t going to change their mind.

This is why when I receive the criticism, “but what about health”— my beliefs are no longer shaken.

Today, I don’t care if I’m wrong. I’m not, but even if I am wrong, I can fully stand behind my approach.

My approach is the most trauma informed + the most value aligned beliefs I could live by.

Early in my career, I witnessed people near death in an effort to hold on to their eating disorders.

I remember the devastation I felt as existing as a fat person.

That I was damned to wear a scarlet letter of shame.

No one would ever know how hard I’d tried to shrink my body. To be the good girl.

And I know there are people who would wish death over ever experiencing that shame.

I had to reckon that if wanted to be a provider who lived in alignment with my values — then my baseline approach needed to be what would be safest for my most disordered client.

That meant— If I wouldn’t use a weight loss centered approach for my most disordered client, then I couldn’t use weight loss for myself either.

And that left me emotionally raw and naked — like a turtle without a shell.

Choosing NOT to pursue weight loss FORCED me to reckon with all the fears, anxieties + shame I’d shoved under the rug for years.

(For reference, I don’t actually recommend raw dogging it like this…)

But it does lead me to my fourth suggestion:

4. Begin experimenting with exposure in a trauma informed way.

I use the example of wearing a 2 piece bathing suit because just 7 years ago — I failed at an experiment where I tried to wear a crop top for the first time.

In 2019, I had realized that I hadn’t been struggling with body grief like I had in the past. So I asked myself what would still feel like a “HELL NO.”

Then one of my body grievers told me she was doing a boudoir photo shoot. (Whoop there it is).

My entire body screamed, absolutely fucking not.

So I distressed scaled it. On a scale of 1 to 10 (low medium high for my girlies who hate a likert scale).

And it was a 10. Absolutely MayDay. Stop Drop and Roll.

If I was coaching a client – I would ask them, what is something that feels charged but isn’t a ten.

And that’s when I determined wearing a crop top or 2 piece would provide that midrange activation I needed. The thought of wearing one was about a 5.

So I went and bought the top.

I did all the things I thought would help make it easier.

I got a fake tan, got a fake tattoo to cover my bariatric surgery scars that were visible. I did my hair and makeup.

And when I put the shirt on – I immediately felt the distress level change. We went from a 5 to off the charts. We call this being outside your window of tolerance.

I then did what I would never recommend anyone else do.
I decided to push through.

I believed if I could just get over my initial discomfort, I’d be fine. But it never wore off.

I explain more of what was going through my mind in this post.

My college bestie looked at me and said, “I think you need to change”. I looked at her said, “why cause it looks bad?” and she said, “no — cause you look so uncomfortable”.

But changing meant failure in my mind.

It took so much convincing, but I finally did.

And while I felt relief. I was so frustrated with myself for not being able to complete this exposure.

Flash forward to 2020.

I had learned from the mistakes I made the first time.

I decided to wear a 2 piece bathing suit to my godmothers house — a place I have historically always felt safe.

The activation in showing up in that bathing suit was moderately high but it was tolerable.

Of course I decided I needed to document it.

And you know what happened when I saw those pictures?

A flood of shame. Activation level from 5 to off the charts. And remember, I’m already Body Image with Bri when this happened.

So much so I wrote this:

If you were to ask me today what would be a “Hell No” about my body – I probably don’t have too many.

There is movement I absolutely detest. I don’t love going to the doctors. I can notice glimpses of grief– like the other day when I saw this video compilation of girlfriends surprising their boyfriends, and boyfriends lifting them up and spinning them around. I grieve that will probably never be my story.

Clothes shopping specifically as a fat person is an absolute pain in my ass.

I probably wouldn’t be a fan of a naked spa. But I could do it if I needed to.

I still have reminiscence of body grief.

Like when I’m around people who are historically fatphobic, I can become very aware of my size, my clothes, what I’m eating.

I grieve that I can’t fit on airplane seats – and will have to buy 2 or first class in order to fit.

I grieve that my health will always be questioned because I still exist in a fat body.

But the distress no longer puts me on the bench.

I am still able to show up and live my life to the fullest.

And though clothes shopping is harder, I’ve still cultivated a closet full of clothes I love.

Even though I have to buy 2 seats or upgrade to first class, I still get the joy of traveling and getting new experiences.

Even though I know my health will be questioned, I am without doubt that I am doing EVERYTHING in my power to promote my health– regardless of whether or not those efforts are recognized.

Building up your confidence brick by brick requires body trust which requires body connection + what we call in the clinical world unconditional positive regard. Or as I would say in my jersey way – you have to be less of a dick to yourself.

Start by naming all the things you feel confident in.
Name the things you’d like to feel more confident in.

Highlight what gap is keeping you from that self assurance.

Resourcefulness is not resilience. It’s not showy + flashy like a superhero. It’s a quiet surrender, a gut check, an innate sense that this will absolutely suck, there is nothing we can do in our immediate future that can change it, and most importantly we will survive.

Confidence allows us to transform surviving into thriving.

When it comes to clothes, I have experienced every single emotion you can think of. If you’re reading this, I know you’ve been there too. Emotions like:

Grief. When nothing fits and suddenly your body grief is activated full throttle

Frustration. Why do brands refuse to produce clothing in sizes that fit larger bodies?! Why would they rather uphold fatphobia than accept my money . . .

Resignation. I don’t even like this outfit or this brand, but it’s the only item available in my size so I guess I better just buy it . . .

But with enough patience and intentionality, sometimes even . . . JOY.

When you are continually denied the privilege of choice in clothing because of fatphobia, finding joy in getting dressed can be elusive. If that’s your predominant experience, I get it and I’ve been there. And that grief gets to suck, no qualifiers..

But I also know that finding joy in getting dressed does exist. ♥️

That’s why I want to share a wonderful try-on experience I had with Sydney’s Closet.

One that was so affirming I could hardly decide which dress was my favorite. A moment that teenage-me would have never believed was possible.

I was thrilled when Sydney’s Closet recently sent me five (F IV E !!!!) of their incredible formal dresses to try on. Sydney’s Closet specializes in stunning gowns, prom dresses, and occasion wear exclusively in sizes 40 to 14, creating beautiful and on-trend dresses that are actually size inclusive.

I’ve sobbed in dressing rooms, consumed by the grief driven by clothing brands demanding I shrink myself. I’ve written about

..but today I want to share about what happens when we experience we get the privilege of CHOICE after being denied that privilege for so long.

Reclaiming the joy of getting dressed in clothes that fit and make you feel good is so powerful. That’s why I value the opportunity to have a corrective shopping experience like I did with Sydney’s Closet.

I’m often asked where I get my clothing, and so I’m especially excited to share this brand with you. Sydney’s Closet is an example of a company that is truly committed to size diversity — which is rare when it comes to formal dressing.

Without further ado, may I present my Sydney Closest’s Haul where every dress I tried on not only fit, but made me feel like royalty! ✨

DRESS 1: Prom Tease Style TE2437

Onyx Black, size 28

The first dress I tried was the Prom Tease Style TE2437 in onyx black and in size 28. I was blown away by how beautiful it was, and more importantly, how beautiful I felt in it. I absolutely adored the shape and structure this dress had, with its a-line satin skirt and sparkly lace bodice. The way the spaghetti straps criss-crossed in the back was one of my favorite details, along with the high slit in the skirt. AND IT HAD POCKETS. An instant yes from me.

DRESS 2: Good Vibrations Dress

Lemon, Size 28

Next up was a ray of sunshine in the form of a gown: the Good Vibrations Dress in Lemon, which I tried on in a size 28. This was pure princess magic and I felt radiant in it. What especially struck me was the fit itself: from the delicate sweetheart neckline to the way the dress was fitted to my body perfectly. And the satin fabric felt so light it was almost like wearing nothing at all. Plus, POCKETS! This dress made me feel like Belle herself, and I was so ready for it.

While the Good Vibrations Dress is currently sold out, the Picture Perfect Gown captures that whimsical princess energy.

DRESS 3: Prom Tease Style TE2323

Burgundy, Size 28

Let me introduce you to Disney’s newest princess: ME, when I’m wearing the Prom Tease Style TE2323 in Burgundy, which I tried on in a size 28. I absolutely loved the ballgown silhouette and full tulle skirt. I felt utterly regal in it, and was obsessed with the intricacy of the bodice: the lace, the sparkles, the illusion mesh neckline, and the exceptionally gorgeous lace-up back. In this gown, I felt like I was ready to get on stage and perform!

DRESS 4: Here Comes the Sun Blue & White Chiffon Floral Picnic Dress

Blue + White, Size 30

Dress number four was the definition of elegance and grace: Here Comes the Sun Blue & White Chiffon Floral Picnic Dress, which I tried on a size 30. She was giving Grecian goddess. She was giving Princess of Sussex. I felt elegant the moment I slipped the flowy chiffon on my body. This material was so soft, y’all, and felt so high quality. I loved the sweetness of the flutter sleeves, and that floral pattern was everything.

The Here Comes the Sun Picnic Dress is currently sold out, but the Spring Sensation Dress is giving a similarly elegant vibe and color palette.

Dress 5: Prom Tease Style TE2525

Blue Floral, Size 30

Princess? Try QUEEN. Is that not the highest praise you could give a gown? I tried on the Prom Tease Style TE2525 in Blue Floral and size 30, and did it ever make me feel like royalty. I especially was into the tiered a-line skirt – those layers of floral net mesh were perfect for twirling the night away in.

Though nearly impossible — I did choose my dress. But before you sneak a peek 👀- comment below which is your favorite dress or which one you thought you might have selected!

Thank you to the fabulous Sydney’s Closet for partnering with me! You can shop these dresses and so many more stunning styles on their website (and find stores that carry their brand in person).

And thanks to you, friend, for letting me share this moment of clothing joy with you.

Remember, you deserve the joy of getting dressed in the body you are in right now because you are already worthy of beauty.

And I promise you don’t need to shrink yourself to get it. 💕

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Earlier this summer, I was gifted five gowns from Sydney’s Closet–a size inclusive fashion brand dedicated to providing special occasion dresses for bodies 40 to 14.

Not only did I find 5 beautiful dresses in my size—but all five were actual contenders.

There are no words to describe the joy, and fun, and beauty I felt as I slipped in and out of each dress with ease.

Each dress reflecting a different part of my personality, my style —I had no idea how I was going to choose a favorite.

As I looked in the mirror, in awe of these beautiful dresses— dresses that fit my here + now body, I was taken back to a different time in my life.

A time when the dress didn’t fit.

Let me take you back to the spring 2007.

I was a junior in high school and just recovering from my very first heart break.

I said all the right things.

I wanted to lose weight “for my health”.

But really, what I wanted was “a revenge body”

That will show him.

Mind you – was 16 year old Bri:

I did that thing teenagers do.

I tried to beat everyone to the punchline.

“I’ll bet nobody is gonna ask me to prom”

“I won’t have a date to prom because I’m fat”

“Can fat people even get a dress for prom”

It made people uncomfortable. But I didn’t care. I wanted them to know I was in on the joke. When inevitably I rolled up to prom single, if I went at all, “at least” I would have called it.

I decided that I wanted to try Jenny Craig after seeing Kirsty Allen in a commercial. I liked the idea of not having to decide what to eat, it was decided for me (later I would come to realize this may have been because of ADHD). And I didn’t think the food tasted “that bad”.

It had to work this time. I was gonna work harder than I ever had before. THIS TIME was going to be different.

I also liked that I had a coach. I remember her to be very kind and encouraging, but I also remember working the program really hard.

 I remember getting on the scale and feeling embarrassed, her measuring my 16 year old body – trying to not to connect to the feeling inside.

Just tune out and this will be a memory one day. It will be worth it.

I was about 3 months into the program + I noticed the scale wasn’t moving very much.

My mom made me an appointment with an endocrinologist who was convinced there was going to be something off with my thyroid and that was going to explain my resistant weight loss.

Turns out, nothing was off about my thyroid ( at least back then… It would eventually become a huge turning point in my healing) – but despite there seeming to be no explanation for my resistant weight loss, at the age of 16 I was already pre-diabetic.

But the doctor wasn’t concerned because all my other numbers looked good and said I should “just keep doing what I was doing”.

But I didn’t want to keep doing it unless I was going to lose weight.

Even at 16, I remember being SO discouraged. I felt like “all this work I had put in” was for nothing.

I was still fat. Why wasn’t this working?

Current day Bri knows the coach I was working was trying to be kind. She was trying to “motivate” me to stop focusing on the scale.

So she encouraged me to buy a piece of clothing that I’d like to fit into.

She probably meant a pair of jeans or a shirt.

But what did ya girl pick?

I picked a prom dress.

All my friends could find dresses in their size in most stores. But even at 16, my plus size juniors section at JCPenny’s was so small..

That’s why I was so surprised to not just find any prom dress. I found THE prom dress.

Picture it.

The dress didn’t fit. Barely, but we just couldn’t zip it up.

And it was in the biggest size available.

My mom tried to discourage me from buying a dress that didn’t fit.

But I pleaded with her. “I’ll do whatever it takes to fit into this.”

And I kept up my end of the bargain.

I increased my exercise, I decreased my food.  I would give away or skip some of my snacks on my meal plan.  Anything to help me achieve my goal.

Nevertheless, the scale did not move.

But the goal had changed. I didn’t need the scale to move. I just needed to fit into that dress. The inches kept melting away like my hunger cues. I chewed excessive amounts of gum + drank water. I withdrew from social situations so I would not be tempted to cheat.

Three months later, it was time for prom. My moment of truth.

All my hard work leading to this moment.

I slipped into the dress. Once again it hugged my curves “better” than it did before. It went over my waist easier.

This is it. I thought. What we’ve been working for so hard.

But just like before, the zipper caught and wouldn’t go up over my hips.

I remember the back of my eyes beginning to burn.

I urged the tears to stay put as I sucked in breath trying to shrink myself enough to make fit.

But after several minutes, my mom said, “I’m so sorry Bri. It’s not going to work”.

Vile began to build up at the back of my throat. Tears threatened to break free with a painful sting but I did not let them fall.

I told my mom that I felt bad about the money and she told me not to worry about that.  And that we would find me a new dress.

But I didn’t want a new dress. I wanted this one.

I asked to be left alone.

And there I stood, in the middle of my bedroom, wearing the most beautiful gown. And that would be as far as I got to wear her.

Because I had failed. Again.

Tears burst from me like an avalanche that it knocked the wind out me.

I sank to my knees weeping harder than I ever let myself

Harder than when that boy broke my heart.

As I clutched the dress that would never be mine- I refused to let myself be comforted.

I deserved this, didn’t I?

I deserved this shame. That was my punishment for my failure.

Because if I only I had I worked harder, or started sooner, or done more.. I could have prevented this heartache.

Long story short, my heart ache was short lived. I texted my best friend at the time. She drove right over to my house with a Dunkin Iced coffee and curled into bed with me. And she laid with me while I cried.

It was the first time a friend had ever done that. I had never known such comfort. And while I was still so sad about my dress, I did end up finding a dress that I didn’t love, but liked.

And someone else ended up wearing my original dress (and she was thinner, so I was glad I didn’t have to compare our bodies in the dress).

But that moment was a significant dent in my body image timeline.

And though it wouldn’t be for another 10 years that the brand would begin to scar over and another 16 years before we reclaimed that scar with a tattoo–

It wouldn’t be for another 18 years that that 16 year old girl would be offered a corrective experience around picking out a beautiful gown—

Where she would stand in her bedroom, in the home that she owns, trying on dress after dress…

5 dresses that fit her perfectly.

5 dresses made for her body.

5 dresses for her to CHOOSE.

I was reminded of the privilege of choice. Because when you have been excluded for so long – to be able to choose feels like a luxury.

It is why so many will continue to pursue weight loss; for privilege.

The privilege of fitting in.

The privilege of choices.

The privilege of public praise as if weight loss is the most impressive thing you could do.

The privilege of unbiased opinion + medical care.

It’s no wonder no one wants to be fat.

Here are some sad truths we grieve.

1. If stores wanted to include us, they would.

We’ve all heard the tropes of why lines don’t carry plus sizes or why they charge for larger sizes.

They say things like…

• No one really buys those sizes

• It costs more to make them larger

But even in the PLUS size stores – they don’t want to be seen carrying the larger sizes.

It is very clear that they want our money, but don’t want to be seen serving us.

These companies that made a big splash about being size inclusive only to go up to a 3x (and then silently remove them from stores without a good explanation why).

If no one is buying your plus size clothes – how is it that 68% of women in the US wear larger than a size 18. Yet most fashion is geared towards sizes 0-4 – with most brands featuring sizes 8 -10 as their mid sizes [even though the average size is 18+ in the US]

unflattering

66% of American women are plus size

It feels hard to post today. What keeps me going in moments like these (of which there have been entirely too many in the last 10 years) is a quote from Ursula Wolfe-Rocca…

Read more

7 months ago · 91 likes · 23 comments · Dacy Gillespie

If it costs MORE to make plus size clothes because it’s more material, then why aren’t baby clothes practically free?

From a sales perspective – selling plus size clothes should make you MORE profitable as you serve a LARGER demographic.

But it just goes to show that the thing stronger than capitalism is anti-fatness.

2. We get to grieve exclusion + lack of choice

It f*cking sucks that we don’t get options. It sucks that we miss out on fashion. It sucks that we miss out on being able to shop with our friends or just run to the store to grab what we need.

That making our outfit may require more patience, more creativity. And accepting the loss that we may not find what we are looking for.

But changing our bodies to be included can often be a short term solution.

And it may change your experience, but it doesn’t change the culture of anti-fatness.

And I know that desire for even just a moment of thinness..

The thought if “What if some of my problems just go away for a little bit”

I don’t judge anyone who wants that. I don’t judge anyone who pursues it.

But as an eating disorder trained clinician, who had an eating disorder –

I fear the moment that comes after.

I remember going back to my coach for Jenny Craig. I was so angry. I tried to hold her accountable for my failure.

And someone how — it was still my fault.

• Maybe you weren’t doing the “right” kind of exercises?

• Maybe you skipping snacks was putting you too low into a caloric deficit where you couldn’t lose weight.

And the worst part is… I believed her.

That conversation was one of the many catalysts that led me to inquiring about bariatric surgery.

I quit Jenny Craig in hopeful anticipation I’d be able to have surgery soon. And not only did I gain back the weight I lost, but I gained more.

This led to the food noise.

3.It’s bigger than clothes (no pun intended)

Yes, not fitting into clothes absolutely sucks.

But we all know it runs deeper than that.

When I tried on the dresses from Sydney’s Closet, I felt like a princess.

It reminded me how little representation fat bodies get.

In 2024 I read over 100 books.

And I could count on 2 hands how many stories featured a plus size main character (and only 1 hand for main characters who were queer or BIPOC).

That is not an accident.

Sixteen year old Bri interpreted her prom dress not fitting as all these unspoken stories:

But those fears didn’t just evaporate once I got older.

Some of them became easier to separate out, especially when they didn’t align with my values.

• But I couldn’t understand why when I’d go on a date I’d still have this sneaky thought He is not attracted to you, this is a pity date

• Or when I’d size out of my clothes this sink feeling of “We failed, again” would bubble to the surface

• Or when I’d walk into a bagel store with anxiety thinking I wonder if this is why we are fat.

When we make weight loss our north star, we lose sight of how we are getting there in the process.

Is your weight loss really healthy if you have to hate your body to do it? Or it makes you hate yourself in the process?

Current day me would have diagnosed 16 year old Bri with an eating disorder.

• Being obsessed with weight loss

• Self hatred

• Anxiety about weight gain

• Calorie restriction + the obsession with controlling my food

• The belief that my fatness was disgusting + apparent to everyone

I’ve decided this is part of the problem.

The world does not understand eating disorders.

They think, “well that’s not me, I’m not that bad off”.

But that’s a slippery slope?

Many eating disorders can start with the attempt to “get healthy”.

And even still, society is going to continue to push the narrative that weight loss is the only path forward, eating disorders be damned.

Because that’s the most profitable path for them.

That’s the path that allows them to keep their biases unchecked. This is the path that actually keeps us from health. Which in the US– you are not profitable if you aren’t sick.

If we truly cared about health – we would be alarmed at the amount of damaging mental and physical harm we are causing by promoting weight loss as the only choice people must make. Maybe not to you — maybe not to everyone. But to 30 million Americans. I am one of them.

I’m 35 now. I am fat.

I am beyond the weight my younger self feared. That arbitrary number I decided – I could NEVER be that size.

• I am the healthiest I have ever been.

• I eat like a glorified 5 year old.

• I don’t obsess about what I’m eating or how much.

• The food noise is gone.

• I am no longer pre-diabetic.

• I go to my doctors regularly and we adjust my meds as necessary.

• I move my body out of body trust + connection – not obedience.

• If I have to cancel my movement class - I don’t get hung up on anxiety for missing a workout

• I don’t stress when clothes don’t fit me any more.

• I stopped weight cycling.

• I am no longer grieved by my apron belly, my double chin or my cellulite.

• It no longer breaks me when someone uses fat as an insult.

• I haven’t been tried to control my food in nearly 10 years.

• I still don’t have access to clothes, or airplane seats, sometimes I need accommodation because my size wasn’t considered. But I no longer feel shame for needing that.

I am thriving in my career, I could find a boy to kiss me tonight if I wanted, and for the first time in my life I am pursuing my hobbies + activities that connect me to my values.

I have the most wonderful friends. And I am misunderstood by a lot of people, even in my family. But even if I lost weight, it wouldn’t fill that ache my people pleasing heart so desperately wanted to fill.

If I could go back and talk to 16-year-old me, (and I know she wouldn’t been keen on listening) I’d tell her:

I’d teach about the systems of oppression that allow this exclusion to thrive.

I’d tell her little scorpio heart that every time we subscribe to the system over our own values, we let them win.

That every time we believe that our body is broken, deserving of shame + exclusion, every time we choose to manipulate our bodies – they win.

They win because they keep their eye on the prize ($$) and our eyes on a goalpost that will always keep moving.

I’d tell her that she has her whole life ahead of her. And that one day, this will be just a memory. And 18 years from now she will have a healing corrective experience where this will all make sense.

I’d encourage her to think beyond her body.

That if her body wasn’t holding her back – even if the world continues to hold her back, how would she show up differently?

Because if there was anyone in this world who could probably succeed at weight loss by sheer effort, it would be her. But if she didn’t need to lose weight… how does she want to be remembered?

What is the impact she wants to leave on this world?

I’d encourage her to dream.

And live her biggest life out loud, on purpose and unapologetically.

I’d tell her I can’t protect her from the vitriol and hatred of this world.

But that I’ll be her shield. And together, we can survive everything they try and throw at us.

They will not break us.

You do not have to earn beautiful things or belonging.

You do not have to be smaller to take up space or be loved.

You are worthy of beauty + joy + choice.

And if the world isn’t going to remind you of that– I will, consequences be damned.

Because that will be my legacy.

I find that there are about three common barriers that hold people back my from radical body acceptance message:

• What will others think of me? [The fear of judgment]

• What if I’m uncomfortable? [The fear of discomfort]

• What if I’m unhealthy? [The fear of health]

The desire to be healthy is often the leading motivation for most people on a weight-loss journey.

At least, that’s what they say is their motivation.

I believe for many folks, they truly believe they are in pursuit of health.

But here’s a quick litmus test to determine if health is your only motivation:

If the behaviors you are doing to improve your health doesn’t guarantee you weight loss—would you continue what you’re doing?

If the answer is no—then health is not your only motivator.
Which is fine—but we can’t accurately “solve a problem” if we aren’t acknowledging our own expectations. It sets us up for failure.

Another health litmus test:

How long can you sustain the behaviors you are engaging in?

Because I can say with fervor the health-promoting behaviors I engage in—I can sustain forever.

But the cost is that I will never be able to control my body size at the same time.

You can’t expect to have peace and quiet with your food + body if you are also simultaneously trying to micromanage them.

I’m not a doctor, and I’ll never claim that anything I write or say is a replacement for medical advice.

I am, however, a trained mental health counselor with over 10 years of experience in eating disorder recovery.

I know the sexier thing to do is present a list of easily digestible resources + materials with

evidence to support my claims on how health + weight are correlated but not a direct cause of each other…

But like I tell my clients:

If you need to arm yourself with research for a conversation, you’ve already lost.

My approach isn’t going to be for the many.
My approach will be unlike anything you’ve ever learned before.
And my content most likely piss you off a little.

And no matter where you are in your body image exploration— you’re welcome here.

Here’s the buy-in you will need for my radical body acceptance + body image work to meaningfully impact you:

You need to understand WHAT body image is (and what it isn’t).

Body image is not just how you feel about your body
or liking what you see in the mirror or photos.
That’s just one aspect (ps. There are four.)

You need to understand what body positivity is (and what it isn’t).

Body positivity was never about loving the skin you’re in.
It was a social justice movement started in the 1960s as a form of protest for equal treatment for ALL bodies.
All bodies are deserving of human decency, respect, and quality medical care. But to this day, that isn’t the case.

You need to acknowledge that fatphobia is alive, well + deadly.

Here are some NOT so fun facts of research I’ve accumulated over the years:

• Only six cities and one state have laws protecting Americans against height and weight discrimination:

• Women considered ob*se earned 5% less than women considered normal weight

• While biases towards sexual orientation, race and skin tone decreased, studies show an INCREASE in weight bias.

• “Ob*sity is associated with a wide range of negative characteristics. Ob*se people are perceived among others as unattractive, unlikable, weak-willed, and alienated from their sexuality”

• 30 million Americans suffer from an eating disorder. [About 30 million Americans are diagnosed with diabetes. Which one did your doctor warn you about…]

• Less than 6% of people with an eating disorder are medically underweight

• Every 52 minutes someone dies as a direct result of an eating disorder.

• Almost half of Americans said they would be willing to give up a year of their life to avoid being fat; 15% said they would give up 10 or more years of life.

• 91% of women are unhappy with their bodies and resort to dieting to change their bodies,

  • even though only 5% of these women naturally have the “ideal body” represented in American media,

  • and the average pant size for women in the US is a size 16–18, which is considered “plus size”.

• 80% of ten-year-old girls in the US have already been on a diet.

  • They reported being more afraid of becoming fat than they are of cancer, war, or losing both of their parents.

    

If you care about health—then we have to care about eating disorders. And body image, inclusive health care, intuitively eating, weight discrimination in our health care system, and unlearning anti-fatness are all part of that.

This became my why.

My approach to healing body image is taught from the lens of how I would treat my most disordered eating disorder client.

My origin story began many years before I reached this crossroads in my personal and professional life:

The year was 2014.

I was working in eating disorder recovery as a therapist.

I cosigned 90% of the body positive message (the whitewashed version).
I just couldn’t believe I could ever be healthy in a fat body.

There would be days I would leave work thinking, “Do I have an eating disorder?”

My clients and I struggled with the same things…at the same time…

How can I eat food with sugar + gluten + processed ingredients without it significantly impacting my health?
What happens if I eat like this every day and I end up gaining more weight?
How can I ever be healthy in a fat body?

Deb Burgard, a pioneer of Health At Every Size, is famously known for saying:
“what was being diagnosed in them was being prescribed to me”.

I’d love to tell you it was a light bulb moment.
That one day all the clinical information just clicked into place.

But it didn’t. In fact much of the clinical work failed me.
Working in eating disorder recovery forced me to face what I had successfully avoided my entire life.

I remember the therapy session that changed my life.

I somehow volunteered that I was on a weight-loss journey for my health.
I expected my therapist to respond with the typical accolades like, “Good for you!” or “what are you doing for weight loss?”

But instead she asked, “How much weight do you need to lose to be healthy?”

I remember getting pissed. The fuck kind of question is that?

In my pre-scripted answer, I said, “I don’t care about how much weight I lose, I just know I need to lose weight in order to be healthy.”

Then she asked me to define health.

Taken aback, I remember rattling off something along the lines of eating fruits and vegetables, exercising regularly, and not being “out of control” around food.

She pushed back, “Based on that definition though, wouldn’t you say you are healthy now then?”

I was eating fruits and vegetables + exercising (albeit abusively + restrictively).
I was excellent at resisting food (I used to think I was really disciplined at times. Now I know I was just really good at having an eating disorder).

But no, I was not healthy. I couldn’t be healthy.
Because if I went to the doctor, they wouldn’t even believe that I’m healthy.
They’d make judgments the second I walked in the room (they were already doing this at this time).

If I had been coaching me, I would have said, “Doesn’t it sound like you want the protection of the privilege of being smaller when you go to the doctors?” Isn’t it wrong that your health won’t be believed because of your doctor’s implicit bias?

My therapist held the cognitive dissonance for me and didn’t let me avoid it.

And the dam broke;

I burst into tears reciting the fears of my heart that I’d never spoken out loud.

No one will take me seriously as a therapist.
How could I help anyone if I couldn’t help myself?

Everyone in my life who has been waiting me for to lose weight would be so disappointed in me. I was the type of girl who could dig deep and accomplish anything I set my mind to. Weight loss was the only thing that bested me.

The loss of never being able to finally prove it to the world that I was disciplined, and dedicated, and healthy.

And my biggest fear: I would lose love. No one would love me in a fat body.

I heard the dissonance—

At the time, I had friends that loved me so deeply. I had friends in larger bodies who were married and in love and fell in love while they were fat.

And yet I felt like the exception to the rule. I didn’t want to risk finding out if I was right.

This dissonance—when your head knows one thing, but your body tells you another. I call this the head-to-heart disconnect.

I know I shouldn’t care what people think of me, but I still do.
I know that it’s what’s on the inside that matters, but I still care.
I know that my worth and value isn’t measured in pounds, and yet I still don’t want to be fat.

My therapist let me sit in the tears for a moment. And then she asked:

“Do you truly believe that your weight is the thing keeping you from being successful in life? That people will love you more if you were thinner?”

I knew the right answer. The right answer was no. But my head knowledge didn’t transfer to my heart.

I told her the core belief motivating my fears:

“Not only will no one else love me, but I won’t ever be able to love myself till I’m thin.”

She told me she would diagnose me with depression in the area of body image. She said this because it sounded like I was hopeless.

I was hopeless.
But I was also angry at myself that I felt this way;
That this belief only existed for me—and no one else.
I was sad; I was sad that this was the one area in my life that I felt like I had no control.
I was ashamed. How could I, a therapist-to-be, work with clients with eating disorders and feel this way about my own body?

I wanted this feeling to end. I wanted the sadness to just go away. I wanted to skip this part and go straight to the being healed part.

And then it dawned on me.

This feeling was grief.

Hopeless. Angry. Sadness. Shame.

All those feelings combined as one.

I began scouring the internet to find something, anything where someone was talking about body image in a way that didn’t’ make me wanna throw my phone in anger.

I didn’t want to think about why I should be grateful for my body.

I didn’t wanna say meaningless bullshit affirmations.

I didn’t want to love my body.

I didn’t want to believe that I have to jiggle my fattness online for thousands to prove that supposed body love.

I wanted to be angry. And cry. And grieve.

It did not feel like that place existed.

I felt I was in an impossible situation.
Either I was forced to continue to take the path forged for me— and continue on this never ending cycle of attempting to control my body—
or I was to take the road less traveled.

The road that all my thin colleagues were encouraging our clients to take:
Trust your body.
Let your body do what it does.
Listen to your body.
And if you gain weight, it doesn’t impact your humanity.

But nobody named body grief.

The grief of seeing a photo of yourself and feeling unrecognizable.
The shame of losing movements that were once effortless.
The pit in your chest when you are unsure that a seatbelt
will close or a chair will hold you.
The debilitating anxiety of going to a new doctor, unsure of how brazen their fat shaming will be.

No one talks about the quiet grievances; of feeling like no one will ever swipe right on a dating site because of how you look…
Or the moment you realize the new pants you just bought don’t fit… again.
The anguish of fearing that your body has re-gained weight…
and the gravitational pull to the scale to measure your hard work and daily enoughness.

This is body grief.

And intentional weight loss to improve your health, your mood, or appearance—is a just a heart-wrenching, hopelessly, anxiety-filled anguish + disappointment that feels a lot like dopamine Russian roulette.

You keep trying to do all the things to control your body in hopes of getting that hit more often than not, ending up with an empty barrel.

You can do all of the ‘right things’ and still not end up with the body you want.

After years of trying and failing, I was just so tired.

I couldn’t keep living like this.
The euphoria I felt when my body conformed paled in comparison
to the shame I felt when my body failed me.

It felt like no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough.
That even when I was my most disordered (and also strongest + smallest)—
it still was never enough—

for me, for my doctors, for the world.

So I decided to get off the fucking merry-go-round.

I chose the path less traveled.

I chose to grieve my body…

To grieve size of the body I had …
…to let go of all the aspirations and dreams I hoped I’d one day have

That ONCE I was in a smaller body… THEN…

I’d fall in love
Invest in cute clothes
Be kind to myself
Have really great sex with someone who finds me desirable
Let myself eat whatever I want because it sounds good— not because my macros or meal plan say I can.

I just had to get to smaller first. THEN I was entitled to joy. Then I was allowed to live.

The pursuit of grieving my body required me to acknowledge my worst fears.

I had to grieve that my body size might actually disqualify me from being seen as attractive to some people (those people are trash, by the way).

I had to grieve that my body might prevent me from being able to fit in public spaces like theaters and airplanes and chairs, from being seen as a leading lady in a play or book or even in the eyes of eligible bachelors.

I had to grieve that my size would be an invitation for open season on judgment.

That when I experienced ridicule at the hands of a doctor, they would always be excused because they are supposedly concerned for my health

I had to grieve that for as long as I existed in this body, people would believe they know (and have the right to comment on) my health just by looking at me.

I had to grieve that somehow, despite being a master’s-educated professional, I would still be seen as lazy, weak-willed and undisciplined.

My body size would be the bud of every joke, and the worst fear people can imagine.

I had to grieve that despite every effort I have made to make my body smaller, that no matter what it might cost me—financially, mentally, emotionally—the world would rather I exist with an eating disorder than dare to exist unapologetically in a fat body.

That regardless of my valiant, extensive and expensive efforts to shrink my body, my reward of living in a smaller body was always destined to be short-lived.

I had to grieve that I might forever be trapped in this fat suit, knowing it might mean no one would ever get to see the real me.

I was wholly convinced I could never feel at home in this fat body.

This will be the only time I’ll ever admit that I was wrong.

Today—

I am more at home in myself than I have ever been. And my body size has very little to do with it.

Through years of therapy (whether it be as a client or a practitioner) I forged my way through the uncharted terrain of body image exploration [including exposures, rewiring my thoughts and shifting my core beliefs] to navigate through through the heartache of unavoidable grief.

And in no uncertain amount of time—I became radically liberated from my body + it’s grief.

• I am liberated from the societal expectations to be small and not take up space.

• I am liberated from my internalized anti-fatness that stopped me from attempting to live the life I wanted—and getting to live that life in this body, without asking for permission or waiting for anyone else to join me.

• I am liberated from the belief that I have to love my body in order to love myself. And this is where Sonya Renee Taylor, author of The Body is Not an Apology, brings in the idea of radical self love.

• This is where Da’Shaun Harrison, author of Belly of the Beast, tells us that self love isn’t enough to liberate the collective from the systems of oppression—including white supremacy, fatphobia, ableism, etc.—in which body hatred was built on.

But radical self love and disempowering systems of oppression can feel overwhelming when you are just awakening to the idea that body hatred isn’t the only way to live.

I want you to imagine you are standing on a cliff. We’ll call this cliff Diet Culture although, it has aptly rebranded as “Wellness Culture”.
This cliff promises you beauty, praise, health,
confidence, success, love, freedom,
and that hit of dopamine that you crave.
But there are also rules.
On the Wellness Culture Cliff,
you have to eat a certain way, move a certain way.
Kind of like taxes in the US: we’re not going to tell you exactly how,
but you can choose wrong.
You have to be doing something to make sure you are
in control of your body at all times.

Across the way you see me.

I’m on the other side of the cliff. We’ll call this side the Body Liberation Cliff.
I’m on the “bad” side of the cliff.
The rebels on my side are out here spreading false information,
glorifying obesity—
telling people they don’t need to lose weight to be healthy,
telling people they don’t even have to pursue health.

And that’s exactly what we are doing.

On this cliff there are no rules about bodies except that we treat every human with decency, respect, dignity + autonomy.
There are no good or bad bodies. The pursuit of health is welcomed to all who desire it. We believe all bodies deserve unbiased medical care. But if they don’t (or more likely it’s inaccessible to them) they still deserved to be treated with dignity.
And we don’t judge the people on the Wellness Culture Cliff,
’cause we believe that they are in a cult, and that capitalism continues to fund and fuel their cliff and FEAR them into ever leaving.

On the Body Liberation Cliff, we eat what we want, we wear what we want (even though YES, it’s harder to find clothes in our size).
We travel—even though we may need a seatbelt extender.
We go to events—even if we have to bring our own chair.
We go on dates, fall in love, have really great sex…
have incredible jobs, have beautiful families and friendships.

We are living our biggest, unapologetic best beautiful lives in the body we have right now.

And every time you go to take step a towards my side of the cliff, you realize there is a large chasm inbetween.

The chasm is so dark, you can’t see what’s down below. So of course, in order to protect you, your mind conjures up the worst possible scenario.

Certain Death.

Alienation.

Undesirability.

Discomfort.

Shame.

Health problems.

So as much as you want to join us on this cliff, there are legitimate things holding you back.
The deep chasm between Wellness Culture + Body liberation is dark, unknowable–

But navigating it also survivable.

HERE’S WHERE I COME IN

[Bri enters the chat].

I am not asking you to leap on to the Body Liberation Cliff yet.
I’m not asking you to have 100% buy-in to this side. It took me years + a masters degree + lots of therapy to get here.
I’m not even asking you not to desire weight loss or not desire the things the Wellness Cliff promises you.

I’m just asking you to climb down into the cave of the unknown, knowing you can always turn back to Wellness Culture—often for the right price.

Just come into the chasm.
Sit in the place between Radical Body Acceptance,
between the promises of Wellness Culture and the freedom of Body Liberation.

This place in between is Body Grief.

And it f*ckin sucks. I’m not gonna sugarcoat it for you.
This is gonna be painful, and daunting, and expose your deepest fears you’ve never said out loud.

But in conjunction with that pain is joy, and connection and freedom like you’ve never felt before. It’s both and.

We don’t need to storm the cave. We can take our time. We get to listen to our body when it says “stop trying to proceed forward” or “this pain is too much right now”.

We get to navigate body image beliefs and body grief in a way that aligns to our nervous systems, not overwhelms it. This is how we learn to trust our body, maybe even for the first time.

Grieving your body is going to be hard.

I used to grieve seeing the silhouette of my large belly. I used to grieve that my niece and nephew wouldn’t ever sit comfortably in my lap. That I’ll never be small enough for my future spouse to carry me over the threshold on our wedding night.

In 2014 that grief felt insurmountable.

Today, though I still bare the scars, that wound doesn’t hold the sting it once did.

There is a world where food stops being about counting, and ingredients and how they are grown and cared for, and formulas + instead get to be memories, and nostalgia, satiation and nourishment.

There is a world where you don’t have borrow brain space to think and feel badly about your body and yourself.

You can to be part of the memories in every iteration of your body, and realign to the values that matter most to you. It doesn’t mean you will NEVER feel connected to your body—

it just means you’ll stop interpreting the connection as something bad every time you feel it.

I know more than most about the depths of body grief.

It’s so dark in here, you can’t see your hand in front of you, never mind the light that’s supposedly at the end of this thing.

But you don’t need to see the light for healing to be possible.

You don’t even need belief that healing is possible.

I sure didn’t.

All you need is a willingness to travel the road not taken.

And reach your out hand. I’ll be there ready to hold you.

My eyes have already adjusted to the darkness.

And I have flashlights and shovels and ropes to navigate this rocky body grief terrain.

I am also bringing size-inclusive camping chairs and a community of badass body grievers® who are stuck in the between– just like you.

And we’ll stay here as long as you need.
For as long as your eyes need to adjust to the darkness.

And even though Wellness Culture will, I won’t promise you results.

In good faith, I cannot promise what will happen.

But I can promise that that no matter how dark the cave feels, no matter how far the light at the end of the tunnel seems, no matter what obstacles we face—you don’t have to face it alone.

You don’t have to understand the whole picture to begin the healing puzzle.
You don’t have to unlearn everything all at once to start healing.

But you do have to start.
Start with saying the quiet part out loud.
And saying it out loud (in therapy, writing in a journal, talking to a friend) will not radically heal you.

But it’s healthy as f*ck.

You don’t need to start with body liberation to heal your body image.
You definitely don’t need to start with body love (or ever get there at all…).
You don’t even need to start with radical body acceptance.

Start with body grief.

Welcome to the Body Grievers® Club, my friend.

Have you ever looked at a photo of yourself and been overwhelmed with sadness, shock or disappointment?

You know the feeling—

• when your chest gets tight

• you start mentally photoshopping your body

• shame encompasses your whole body like carbon monoxide

My body grievers® and I call this picture grief; an extension of the unavoidable + distressful body grief of body image when we see ourselves in pictures.

That’s how I felt when I took this picture.

Let me paint the scene for you.

It’s 2020. I’m already Body Image with Bri + a licensed mental health counselor. And this was my first time in a 2 piece bathing suit as an adult. I was anxious — but I wore the suit anyway. It felt like a win until I saw the photo.

Picture Grief can occur when you see an old photo of yourself in a smaller body, or when you see a current photo of yourself in a larger body. It can happen when you least expect it, or you can already be grieving a photo before you even take the photo.

Here are some universal truths:

1. It can be hard to take a photo and miss or “not recognize” the person you see + there are ways you can hate your body less in pictures

2. There is no size body you can exist in that means you don’t deserve to be seen

3. Grief is information on what perceived loss is causing us distress; find the story about the loss to relieve the distress.

Here are 3 quick journal prompts to help you navigate this body image picture grief:

Before we begin, let’s assess

• do I have capacity to explore this now? (yes, no, unsure)

• Can I mitigate any unnecessary discomfort I’m experiencing right now (like can I wear some comfy clothes, call a friend, wait till therapy to discuss this..)

Take as much time as you need and allow yourself the space to feel these feelings – without judgment. In my experience, I’ve found it’s only when we give ourselves this emotional space that we can begin to move forward. If judgement, shame or any other parts show up — kindly ask that they take a seat to the side so we can put our investigator hats on. There is no room for exploration with criticism or shame.

If you have capacity, pull up that picture and grab your journal.

Use these prompts to engage with your internal dialogue. Take a deep breath and write out the answers to the questions.

Grieving A Smaller Bodied Photo

Journal Prompt #1

• What thoughts did you have about your body when this photo was taken? Did you love your body then? How do your thoughts differ now from your original thoughts?

• What do you miss about existing in a smaller body? What would grieving this look like?

• What, if anything, did you have to do to sustain this body size? With curiosity (not criticism) explore WHAT made this body size difficult to sustain long term.

Grieving A Larger Bodied Photo

Journal Prompt #2

• What is the story you’re telling yourself about your larger body?

• GET CURIOUS: Where did you learn these stories? What was the first age you heard this?

• Consider: What does this story “cost you”? Why is it so bad? Do these thoughts bring me closer or further from my values?

• What memories from this moment do you want to remember when you see this picture?

  ---

Most of us want to bypass the discomfort of picture grief.

You may not have capacity to explore it, but you can still rewrite a reframe without painting your grief with silver-lining hope. Don’t bullshit yourself some affirmations you don’t even believe— but if we were to remove the shame and criticism, objectively — how can we look at this photo differently or more inquisitively?

Reframing can happen when you realize that instead of changing your expectations of your body, you change your expectations of the photo.

The next time you’re grieving the way your body looks in photos, consider this:

Reframing Your Expectations of a Photo

Journal Prompt #3

Instead of focusing on how you think your body should have looked, highlight the experience in which the photo was taken with curiosity, not criticism.

Imagine you are Indiana Jones on an exploration - now is time for just facts and information.

• In your opinion, what is the worst part about this photo?

• Before the photo - were you able to be present? What are some things you remember about being in this moment?

• If you were consumed by your body distress, what might have been helpful to mitigate some of your discomfort?

• Are there any memories you can hold on to that don’t have to do with your body?

• Are there any statements you can say to yourself right now that feel TRUE (even if the grief feels true too?)

My favorite reframe: I will look back on these pictures with kinder eyes. I always do.

Want to dig MORE INTO Picture Grief?

Here are my BEST RESOURCES from free to paid

1. Listen to the Body Grievers® Club podcast episode 15: Picture Grief with Natalie Siegel

2. and episode 67: Being SEEN: Picture Grief with Lindley Ashline

3. Grab my joint Picture Grief Master Class UNSEEN: how to become part of the memories again with Lindley Ashline

4. Get Access to my Picture Grief Q+A Master Class + 6 other jam-packed master classes inside of my Body Image VAULT Library!

Or upgrade to my paid blog UNFILTERED:

Before you go, here’s a sneak peek of some

CLIENT WINS WITH PICTURE GRIEF

Does it bum you out that even I still can have picture grief?

That’s what one of my favorite body grievers® told me this week.

“if you’re still struggling, what hope do the rest of us have?”

But I think my body grief should give you hope—hope that healing is possible. But even more so, body grief gives us amazing insight.

Let me give you an example:

In this photo – I was taken aback by how large I look here.

I was so accutely aware of

• How cute I thought I looked going to the event with the stark contrast of how I saw myself in this photo

• The sting of being the fattest of my fat friends

• Feeling bummed that even I still get stuck in this body image bullshit [narrative on loop: you should know better].

But because I am so well versed in exploring CURIOSITY over criticism, here are few things I could identify right away about this grief

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My heart has always been that I want someone to feel seen when they see my page. There is a weird thing that occurs in this parasocial relationships — people think they know me because of the content I curate. And in a sense — you do.

But there is a lot you don’t see.

There are things and topics I’ve never covered on my page because I am still processing them myself, they don’t just involve me, or I’m not sure how to share it.

So that’s what today’s blog is.

Here is a poem I wrote on the dichotomy of holding more than one emotion at a time: missing someone who hurts you.

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The following is an excerpt written one year after my brother had died.

This entry will make it clear how I became an expert on grief, how I learned to navigate the trenches of my loss, the deconstruction of my faith, and the transformation of beliefs I didn’t think were possible. Certainly not my usual content, but words worth sharing. Thank you for sitting on my grief bench. 💜

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If you are finding yourself grieving your clothing — consider these reflection questions on your own or with a trusted provider.

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But those here inside my paid blog will get my MOST raw, most unedited words and thoughts.

Things I’ve never shared anywhere else.

If you’ve ever read something I’ve written and craved more…

If you’ve ever seen an email and wanted the inside scoop.

If you like poetry, journal entries and are waiting for me to write a book.

Subscribe to my paid blog:

UNFILTERED.

let’s do this 💅

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This really isn’t about Remi.
This isn’t about any one influencer.

It’s about a culture that outsources its convictions to celebrities and people of power, when really it’s an obsession with thinness.

This paid blog includes journal prompts on health.

The Masquerade of Health

We live in a society that pretends it’s concerned about health.

That’s right, I said pretends.

If the world TRULY cared for health - we would be concerned:

• about the alarming risk of medical complications from GLP1s

• the death toll of people who have undergone weight loss surgery

• the long term health impacts of restrictive eating disorders

We hide behind the masquerade of health because it’s easier than acknowledging the truth:

We hate fatness.

I hear folks say:

• But I don’t “look healthy”

• I don’t “feel healthy” — [ like their joints hurt or they are out of breath]

• My doctor lectures me about my weight.

But health does not have a look or size.

Is weight the only factor that contributes to this pain?

Is changing your body to not experience oppression ever acceptable?

We are placing metabolic “health” above mental + emotional health, above the diagnostic criteria of eating disorders is counterintuitive.

So again, is our obsession with health? Or is our obsession with thinness.

In the age of ozempic, we are seeing an uptick conversation on “Using a GLP1 for health” — but to date, there isn’t a study more than 2 years out. Why aren’t concerned for how GLP1s are negatively impacting health in a negative way.

Health is not linear. Data points need to be looked in context.

And no matter how “healthy” we are – our bodies will always be at risk of change.

If not by weight, our bodies can change with injury, mobility, and age.

Does your confidence, your joy, your self-worth when [not if] your body changes?

If yes – then this is not body confidence. It is momentary body satisfaction.

So all these influencers who have lost weight…let’s see how well their confidence ages.

This is where people ask me: So what, am I supposed to do nothing?

To which I emphatically respond: Of course not.

The pursuit of health is not the problem. It’s the requirement of body control around health that is.

Is your definition of health divorced from your body size?

If you add health promoting behaviors [add in exercise, drink more water etc] and your body size doesn’t change, will you be okay with that?

If the answer is no — is your priority really health? Or is it thinness [aka the “look” of health].

You have the autonomy to pursue health. But you don’t owe anyone health. And your pursuit of health should not be the barrier to be to human decency or unbiased medical care.

HERE ARE SOME RESOURCES TO HELP YOU REDEFINE HEALTH

Reflection questions for redefining health

1. How do I currently define health?

2. What motivates my health journey?

3. Do I believe I am a lesser person if I don’t have my health? Do I worry others will believe I am a lesser person?

4. Does my body size impact the kind of medical care I receive?

5. If my body size doesn’t change but my health markers improves — will that be enough for me? Or will I be disappointed my body didn’t change.

6. What is the worst part about not experiencing body change even if your health improves?

Ep 64 Health without Weight Loss from the Body Grievers® Club podcast

Get $10 off my Master Class: Redefining Health Master Class

Have questions? Ask me below!

May 26th 2013.

I remember the day vividly. It was exactly one year after my brother had died. I had gone into the city to get a tattoo in his honor. And I’d love to tell you that I remember the day. That I felt the impact of the tattoo I got in his honor.

But all I remember was the shame of the heat rash under my dress.

At this point, I was in the largest body I had ever been in. All the weight from my weight loss surgery had started to come back. I was amidst the most horrible grief I’ve ever survived —

and yet the most prominent feeling devastating me was the embarrassment of getting “chub rub”.

I remember I didn’t talk to anyone about anyone.

I believed that this doesn’t happen to other people.

I remember finding a rogue reddit thread that mentioned how baby powder helped post the chaffing, but back then —

I didn’t know there were solutions to prevent chaffing outside of “just losing weight”.

Fast forward to over a decade later - and there are so many options to treat and prevent chafing.

AMB (or Anti Monkey Butt) sent me some of their products to try — and they are quickly becoming my new favorite chafing solution!

AMB had slid into my DMs a few weeks back — and I remember chuckling at their name. (I also remember laughing about it on this podcast of my podcast: Body Grief: Finding Meaning

I really love their smooth anti-friction chafing stick for those sensitive areas. I love how good it smells and the softness of the shea butter as it’s applied.

My other favorite solution is a two for one. The Anti Friction Body Powder is great as a chafing preventative — but i’ve been using to sooth chaffed skin. It’s soft calamine agent expedites healing of any chafed skin. Plus — it’s so on brand, as the powder it self is pink. ✨

Chaffing shouldn’t be shameful or painful.

AMB can help you with the pain —I can help you with the shame.

Check out all their anti-chaffing products here.

And get on my 1:1 waitlist to get strategies to unburden your shame around “chub rub” .

No matter what your grief - even the grief of chaffing —you are not alone, my friend.

“Bri — where did you get that”.

If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me this on Instagram, I could probably retire. 😉

Over the years, I’ve done the labor of vetting whether products are actually fat friendly—so you don’t have to. Now, I’m excited to finally compile my top recommendations in one place.

And since I can’t pass up a good pun, I’m calling this new series Fat Tuesday! I’ll share my favorite fat-friendly finds—products that truly work for bigger bodies.

Here are my top recommended fat friendly products:

BIG FIG MATTRESS

I'm absolutely obsessed with my Big Fig mattress!

As a brand that specializes in mattresses for bigger bodies, it has completely transformed my sleep + body pain.

For years, I thought it was normal for a bed to feel like sinking sand, but Big Fig proved me wrong 🤣. Their mattress is soft and firm - and incredibly supportive—no more concave middle!

The adjustable base has been a game-changer for my back issues, letting me customize my sleep position and actually wake up pain-free.

(sorry the audio is out for some reason)

If you’re in the market for a new mattress — Big Fig is where it’s at.

Click here to experience the comfort and support for yourself!

CARES Period Underwear

Period underwear is a total game changer, but finding pairs that are cute, comfortable, true to size, and actually work? That’s rare!

That’s why I’m a big fan of CARES-Revolv. Their period underwear is made with soft, breathable fabric that feels great all day and offers reliable leak protection—whether you’re on light days or heavy flow. Oh, also — they are cute as f*ck.

Here are some of my favorites:

• Light days: Perfect for spotting or the end of your cycle.

• Regular days: Great everyday protection with a comfy fit.

• Super heavy days: Extra absorbency and coverage when you need it most.

They come in inclusive sizes and are easy to care for—just rinse, wash cold, and hang dry.

Check out the entire CARES- Revolv site!

Get 10% using code: BODYIMAGEWITHBRI

AMAZON RECS

I completely understand that trying plus-size friendly products online can be intimidating—it's always a risk. And I’ll refrain from sharing my thoughts on amazon.

I want to share with you some tried and true favorites that have worked well for me. I've recently set up my Amazon storefront, so bear with me as it grows!

I've curated a list of products I've personally purchased through Amazon and had great success with. These items have proven to be reliable and comfortable, and I'm excited to share them with you.

Whether you're looking for clothing, home goods, or other essentials, I hope you find something that suits your needs. I’ll continue to talk more about items I add to my FAT TUESDAY LIST — including a certain wedge I have linked on my blog entry

Otherwise — here’s access to my amazon store front recommendations.

TORRID

A majority of my clothes are from Torrid because — they are reliable in super fat plus sizes (4x+).

Shop the Torrid sales— and I’ll try and share the products that I buy that are a win! Here are a few:

1. Sequins

2. Maxi Dress

3. Bronze

4. Crop Top

5. Jump Suit

6. Crepe Blazer

I’ve got so many more amazing products to share, so be sure to stay tuned for future Fat Tuesday posts!

Got a product you want me to try or review? Or are you a brand interested in collaborating? Drop a comment below or reach out anytime at hello.bodyimagewithbri@gmail.com

Let’s make Tuesdays a joyful celebration of fat joy, comfort, and community—together!

I was told to accept my body.

How am I supposed to accept something that the world continues to fervently reject? How am I supposed to accept a body that I visceral hate?

I'll say to you what I wish every provider and mentor had said to me:

F*ck acceptance.

Let’s start with grief. Let’ me break it down for you.

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I’m sitting in my therapists office in downtown Nyack wearing my workout gear.

I had just finished telling her about this 10 week health detox prescribed by my doctor. When I described it, she claimed it sounded. Intense but I assured her that it was for my health [even though the doctors and I ultimately wanted the results to be weight loss.]

My therapist, Maggie asked: How do you define health?

I shared the rehearsed response I told everyone: exercise daily, eat healthy foods + not feel out of control around it.

Maggie: So then by that definition, you’re already healthy.

Brianna: No - I also need to lose weight.

Maggie: Okay, how much weight do you need to lose to be healthy?

*now at this point I was getting irritated*

Brianna: I don’t know, I just know I can’t be healthy in this body.

Maggie: does it feel true to say that weight loss is also important to you for health

Brianna: I don’t care what my weight is, I just know I need to be smaller

Maggie: I hear what you’re saying.. but cognitively, are seeing the dissonance in what you are saying? You are telling me you need to lose weight to be healthy, but that wasn’t in the definition of health you gave. You aren’t willing to say that weight loss is important to you, but you also know that it is a non-negotiable.

*the woman was too stunned to speak*

Brianna: I don’t want weight loss to be important to me…

Maggie: Let’s try this thought experiment. If we were to take health aside for just a moment. We are going to pretend that all but your weight, you are healthy. Will that be enough for you?

It was in that moment that I realized I had been lying to myself.

I knew the right words to say and no one every questioned them.
Weight was important to me. And I didn’t want it to be.
Two things can exist at the same time.

A few weeks later:

I returned to the doctors post detox.

I had followed it to a T. No cheating.

I skipped out on all the fun foods at all the events — one of my best friends weddings, at a retreat I sang at, and my favorite holiday of all time — my birthday.

I drank this nasty shake that I had to hold my nose to consume x2 a day. I did it. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was proud.

I lost some weight, but I was miserable + hungry.

I was so excited to move into the “re-entry” phase of adding in foods. [Goodbye nasty shakes].

And that was when the doctor told me, he’d like me to continue with the detox…

I started crying.

So I asked him for how long would we continue the gross shake phase.

And he said, “until you are healthy”.

Devastated does not even begin to describe what I felt.

I went back to therapy to process. Maggie asked me what story I was telling myself.

If I didn’t exist in a smaller body, why would that be so bad?

The real the fear for 2015 year old Bri was that existing in a fat body meant that no man was ever going to be attracted to her. Boy oh boy was she so wrong.

Here’s why I was stuck oscillating between the dissonance.

As human beings, we will try to evade the uncomfortable. The unknown is SCARY, unchartered territory. Our nervous system is trying to protect us in the only way it knows how.

Here’s the problem:

Avoiding discomfort is like putting a bandaid on a wound that needs surgery. How long will the bandaid hold?

Here is the unavoidable, hard truth:

Weight loss will not protect you from difficult body image moments.

The worst part about healing your body image it is that in order to NOT feel pain around your body image — you have to face the discomfort.

Discomfort is required for growth.

You have to be willing to look at the side the cliff you are hanging off of… and either you can keep holding on. Or you have let go and drop down in the chasm of the unknown.

Diet culture + Body Hatred is that side of the cliff.

Radical Body Acceptance is on the other side of the cliff. But you cannot get there till you navigate through the chasm of darkness below.

That chasm, that darkness is called body grief.

And you can pretend that “it’s not that bad”. You can say that your motivations aren’t for aesthetics - but for health or comfort and ease. You can diet, take GLP1s, get weight loss surgery [this is the body autonomy].

But unless you learn how to tolerate discomfort and shift your beliefs about what that discomfort is saying about you — you are putting a lot of faith in that bandaid to heal your body hatred wound.

Dear Body Griever:

You are probably a badass in real life [even if you don’t feel like one]. Maybe you have an amazing job or an awesome partner or family....You are skilled + talented + brilliant + loved… And yet this body shame makes you feel small, stupid, + frustrated. Healing feels futile + hopeless.

Maybe life is already HARD and you cannot imagine it being any harder.

You are grieved by:

• Needing to ask for a table instead of a booth or booking an extra seat during a flight

• being limited in clothing options, even in plus size stores

• having a hard time going to the bathroom, tying your shoes or standing for long periods of time

• trying to find a comfortable way to have sex in this larger body

You feel stuck in this body you hate and it feels like there is no way out...

If you are thinking - “Bri... kindly get the f*ck out of my head” - instead, I invite you to step into my head for one hour in my free webinar.

This is your time to ask your most uncomfortable body grief questions, out loud.

We will navigate through the suck of your grief - together.

Cue George Michael’s song FREEDOM 💫

TLDR. I had a really lousy date in 2021 that turned me off to dating.

I have not felt the urgency or desire to date in a long ass time. From the pandemic - to building my business, dating just took a back seat.

Fast forward today — with a little help from a medication change (Zoloft to Wellbutrin) — ya girl feels ALIVE again and is putting her name back in the ring. This is not medical advice. Don’t switch your meds willy nilly.

In 2021 I went on 1 date. And it sucked.

To date, I’ve lost count of how many different dates I’ve been on this year.

And none of them are Mr. Right… but they are certainly Mr. Right-Now.

A younger version of myself would have convinced me that I would only be able to date the scraps.. the bottom of the barrel... whomever would have me.

All these men - in my opinion - have been attractive, funny, and kind in their own way. And NOT that it matters — but I have been the “heavier” person on all of these dates. I feel so much more confident dating in my 30s then I did in my 20s. But it doesn’t mean I don’t get nervous.

Here are my takeaways from my dating adventures:

1. Hard things are HARD.

Yes, things are absolutely harder being in the body I exist in. But one of the things NOT making this harder is cosigning the belief that my fat body disqualifies me. I no longer subscribe to the lie that that my body will prevent me from finding love, having fun sexy dates, or fun, joyful, pleasurable experiences with partners.  That does not mean that this process is easy or effortless.

2. Scapegoating your body is going to feel innate.

It’s easy to blame yourself when things are new and uncomfortable. It’s the familiar neural plasticity [and for all my none psych friends.. that is the little groove our brain makes when we experience an emotion that is attached to a belief or behavior.] Regardless of the body you exist in, only we can intentionally carve out new paths. Even I - BODY IMAGE WITH FRICKIN BRI —have found ways to scapegoat my body in this dating process. But because I have the tools to catch the thoughts quickly I can move through them just as efficiently! 

3.  My life is full + abundant as is…

Healing my self esteem has been paramount in my dating confidence. Back then, I would go into dates hoping I would get lucky enough to find someone who would find me worthy of loving. Now I go into dates knowing I am already loved and cherished and already in healthy community. Being single is not the same as being lonely. I have known and counseled people in relationships who are lonelier than me. You can want what you want and know that no one is going to fix you or your loneliness. Romantic love won't fix your lack of community and connection. That also doesn’t mean that you have to WAIT to heal to get into a relationship. But even as someone as healed as I feel - all my old attachment shit and unhealed parts have come to the surface during this time. [Being in good therapy or coaching can be helpful with this].

4.  You get to trust yourself 100%.

Only YOU know what feels good and right for you. You don’t need to settle for anything less or take anyone else’s word for it! Even if they would do it differently. I have some wonderful friends who have been so supportive of my dating adventures. At the end of the day - even if my friends think I should go on a second date or shouldn’t give someone a shot, I am autonomous over my decision. And the best part is I can’t choose wrong. I get to learn so much about myself regardless of what decision I make.

5.  Not all people suck.

The world is full of cruel people. And something I feared was that if I truly put myself out there I was only going to be desired by the creeps or those would only desire me because of my body (and fetishize me without my consent). Even worse, I would be rejected by the fat phobes who would tell me my body is disgusting.

There is some truth to all of these things. But I would say the amount pales in comparison to how many kind, attractive, intelligent people I’ve gotten to meet along the way.

6.  The only way out is through.

There is no skipping to the good part. If you are person in a larger body looking to find the love of your life or just wanting some good sexy fun —there is going to be discomfort.

We must sit in the suck to get to the good part.

“They’re two sides of the same coin - it's sadness and it's joy” - the Notebook the musical

I’ll never to lie to you.

Dating, putting yourself out there, intimacy, sex in any size body is hard. But the vulnerability of also being in a body that the world actively tells you is wrong makes it inexplicably harder. There is no denying that.

When I think back to High School Bri, I remember believing that I wasn’t worthy of the experiences I desired to have because of my body. I believed that no guy would ever want to date or would be attracted to me because of my body.

I remember College Bri — who believed that dating in a fat body was like walking a tight rope. Lean too far one way and you get critics of your body. Lean to far the other way and you get people who only see you as a body. And that maybe they would sleep with you in private but would be embarrassed to date you in public.

Today Bri can confirm that that is the farthest thing from the truth.

I have had some wonderful, sexy, fun dates with men of all shapes, sizes, athleticism — all who found me + my body attractive.

And again, not that it matters — I have been the heaviest person on the date.

I am more than my body. And I believe I’m hot. I mean look at me 🤪

But my body is very much part of the process. I cannot date, experience joy + pleasure, laughter, anxiety, distress — anything, I cannot experience life without her.

So if you are thinking about getting out there — and you believe your body is standing in your way, ask yourself this.

Even if the world tells me that I am undesirable in this body, does that mean I need to subscribe to this lie too?

Don’t subscribe to that thought.

But do consider subscribing to my paid blog, UNFILTERED to read a poem I wrote after one of my sexy encounters 🤭.

He reveres my body like a work of art.
Darkness. Drunken Words. Sober Thoughts. 

 "Do you think they know what we are doing?" he chuckles softly as he brings my chin up to kiss him.
 
"I think they have a pretty good idea." 

Check out this paid blog post for an exclusive personal poem I wrote after one of my sexy dates. I have also included some personal boudoir photos I’ve never posted anywhere else + my personal recommendations for plus size lingerie.

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