What Lilo & Stitch Taught Me About Body Positivity

I grew up on this shit.

fuel for freedom

My friends, we have a lot to learn from the aliens.

No, not those three-eyed, green, cone-head visitors from Pluto. They might be able to teach us how to fry other planets with lasers or create buildings with the shear force of our minds, but I’m more interested in lessons of body positivity. For that, we need Disney’s cuter and fluffier creation: Stitch.

What Lilo and Stitch Taught Me About Body Positivity: Fuel For Freedom

Stitch isn’t a classic hero. He doesn’t have six-pack abs (although he can lift ridiculous amounts of weight), and he has more than a few anger issues that deter him from saving the day. However, he manages to fall in love with two girls who both break the standard princess mold.

I loved Disney princesses growing up. I wanted to be Snow White or Cinderella. I wanted to be Ariel or Belle. I wanted to marry a prince. I wanted a happily ever after.

Honestly, as…

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Holding A Baby And An iPhone

Erin Matson

I live-tweeted labor. The first night of my daughter’s life I realized I was going to be nursing for long stretches overnight; I began using my phone to stay awake. Every night I spent hours nursing her quietly, listening to her sweet little swallows, and surfing the Internet like it was the best Gidget movie in the world. I developed eye strain, and my carpal tunnel flared up again.

Eventually maternity leave was over. I held a different job then, one I loved, but I was also a rare part-time employee on a staff of full-timers. That meant checking in on email all the time anyway, so I wouldn’t fall behind.

Work-life balance is this elusive thing. It’s a psychic pair of skinny jeans, designed to punish. Work-life balance is not a gender-neutral phrase. Work-life balance may as well be Morse code for throwing women to the wolves. We are expected to take care…

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He Wrote It Down.

In Others' Words...

Our intention was to dance on his grave.

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My beautiful cousin, who I’d not seen in 35 years, and I set out to dance on our grandfather’s grave. Our first dilemma was, of course, song choice. You have to have the right song. We bandied a few song titles about, Alanis Morrisette was a front runner.

Obviously.

We drove to the town where he lived, and where he is buried. We drove to the town where we were abused. Driving down the picturesque New England roads, I felt a little faint. Mary felt a little barfy. We pulled into a store parking lot, and Mary spent some quality time behind a dumpster, hurling. It happens.

We weren’t entirely sure where the cemetery was, so we pulled into a police station to ask for directions. I said, jokingly, We should go in and file a police report. Mary said, What would…

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Eight Ill-Advised Reasons for Getting Married

Marriage. Now and then. Not that big of a difference…?

The History of Love

What would you say makes the most solid foundation for a marriage? Trust? Financial security? The sort of profound and death-defying passion that would make Jack & Rose weep with envy? [let’s face it, they are the modern-day Romeo & Juliet, and I’m only moderately ashamed to admit it.]

It was in the latter half of the eighteenth century that the concept of marrying for love began to gain currency in the English popular mindset, and the younger generation expected a bit more say in who their partner might be. Inevitably, centuries of parental tyranny in these matters meant that alliances negotiated in terms of acreage and titles continued to sweep many reluctant couples to the altar.

Here, however, we have a brilliant print suggesting that many people cannot be trusted with such a momentous decision, giving a range of slightly less conventional – but still remarkably unwise – reasons for marriage. Take…

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That’s Why They’re Called Privates

gendermom

Private-PropertyM.’s dad and I toured a new afterschool program this week. M.’s neighborhood pal, Poppy, goes there, and we thought it would simplify things if M. went, too.

We arrived a little early for the tour, and the director looked at her watch and said, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re early.  Let’s sit down and talk.” Great!  We could get our questions answered about the school before the other parents arrived.

We sat in tiny chairs at a tiny table.  She crossed her hands and gave us a serious look.  “So. M. is ‘trans,’ right?  Is that  the right word?  ‘Trans?'”

Huh? I thought we were going to talk about their art program.

Sigh.

“Yes,” I said. “M. is transgender.”

When I called to schedule the tour, I hadn’t thought about the fact that the director’s step-son used to live two doors down from us, beyond the fact that…

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