When it was proposed a month ago, I knew immediately that it was too important an event to not be involved in: the very first body-positive street performance of its kind. I knew that the more people that were involved, the more significant an impact it would have. It was a rare opportunity to show the world that we exist as more than headless fatty photos, that we're damn pleased to take up space to live and thrive. The more we can represent ourselves and be understood, the more that our society as a whole will learn acceptance- this is a key for any movement. What I wasn't prepared for was how it would effect me, personally.
While I've been very active in the online body-positive community, and supporting local groups like EmFATic Dance through attendance of their shows, I haven't had a lot of opportunities for networking with more than a handful of plus size locals. So to see DOZENS of them come out in force in one place was staggering. For us all to be so amped up that we then moved on from one place to the next around the city, to do this performance again and again, was beyond words.
At the Castro station, our second spot, construction workers stopped their jackhammers just to let us perform uninterrupted. Stop signs were then held up to block oncoming traffic as we were beckoned into the street, so that thirty brightly dressed big women, and a smattering of awesome men, could then take a photo in front of the very work that had been halted for us and the workers who had been so kind.
After that, we walked the six or so blocks down hill to Dolores Park, our last stop. The walk itself was a delight, with a hillside sidewalk covered in that rainbow of dresses. We filled the time with lots of talk about body love, clothing, feminism, and all things fabulous. It was around this time that it hit me and really sunk in, what we were doing, on a very personal level.
Even on the subway ride to our rendezvous, that morning, I'd found myself self conscious. I was this big lady in a bright orange dress sticking out like a sore thumb and taking up space in a crowded train car. My legs were bare, swollen from my medical issues, and lilly white. I found the old whispers of insecurity, about what others might think, in the back of my head. This isn't unusual, to me. Despite being very passionate about the body-love movement, I am also very new to it and there is much old doubt to unlearn. Later, as I walked among all those vibrantly painted ladies, I hadn't a thought about all that. I proudly waved to any passer-by who gave us a look of puzzlement. I thrilled in every crazy hat or neon pink fringe being worn to make us stand out. I also realized I had not once feared or questioned myself since the very start of this event. What was more, I felt larger than life. I found myself tearful in that moment of realization, at just the gravity of knowing how significant that was.
Coming together, our community gave me the gift of unbridled bravery and confidence, a true liberation where I wasn't just standing meekly with others to ask the world for acceptance, I was eager to be one of the first in line to scream that the only acceptance I need is right here, in myself and with people who'd learned there is freedom in compassion and defiance of a judgmental world. Going into this, I never would have thought some bright colored clothes and a happy tune, danced to with some like minded people, could cause that kind of transformation I saw in myself. With solidarity, we support each other, and ourselves, at the same time. In that moment, I truly felt that we could move mountains if we tried... or at least paint them in rainbows.
(photo taken by Astra Kim)
