“Sweat is fat crying,” said the back of the gym shirt of the man in front of me at the grocery store, who was red-faced and drenched in perspiration. He had succeeded, apparently, in reducing his fat to tears, during his recent workout. I admittedly, at first, found his “motivational” shirt funny. I quickly realized,… Continue Reading →
A day at the pool: restorative respite or body image battlefield?
Please know this about me: I loathe the term Yummy Mummy. I hate that it implies that moms are not desirable—that they are, indeed, undesirable (there is a shade of difference. “Un” seems even more derogatory)—if they don’t look better than they did before they popped out a few kids and somehow remain all carefree… Continue Reading →