2022-Present

And some things that may be news. In some ways they were to me…
I’ve been fat since college when the freshman 15 became the freshman 50. It didn’t feel like that big of a change because I had already spent my teens years believing I was fat so the mindset was easy to slip into. What was new was when the college guys moo’ed at me. It hurt. I pretended it didn’t. We all carried on with our lives.

As a fat person in pursuit of my own body liberation, I have transformed in phases. There was the “love myself” diet phase where I was convinced if I loved myself enough I would magically become thin. Then the “for real, no more dieting” phase. Then “donut land” (read Dietland for the reference). Then finding joyful movement and fat community via Fat Kid Dance Party and The Plus Bus. Then starting Cincifatty. Wearing crop tops. Dancing in the streets.

Most of these phases – while earnest were, on some level, performative. Meaning – not wholly authentic and not as transformative as they may have appeared largely because I was not being fully authentic. I was doing “what I was supposed to do.”

I was learning the language, becoming the militant advocate, getting the shit kicked out of me by the dissonance between my views/values/actions and my true feelings/fear/shame about my body, lightening up on the militant thing, not knowing who to be and what to say, retreating and re-emerging…

I “know” that body liberation doesn’t mean that I never have a negative body thought again. I know it’s a practice not a result and there is no expectation of “perfection.” But “knowing” isn’t knowing and it’s still hard to be a leader and have secret shame about my own body.

So maybe I’ll share some of it instead of hiding it.

Last weekend I danced with the Shakers in the Midwest Black Family Reunion Parade in Avondale, Cincinnati. This parade has THE BEST crowd. There is a great vibe and I love it.

Our summer costume is a white top with Shakers logo and silver bottoms. I chose a silver mini skirt I hadn’t worn before and learned as we were warming up tended to ride up as I was dancing. Oh well! I mean… the truth was I didn’t feel fully comfortable. I was showing a lot of the part of my body that I still unconsciously conceal: my belly.

Like I started with… you and I know both know I’m fat. No matter what I wear or how “flattering” my outfit is, you are not going to mistake me for a slim person. I let go of that a long time ago. I let my arms out of sleeves, I don’t try to hide the width of my ass or even the thickness, dimples, or jiggle of my thighs anymore.

This belly is new though. In the last year or two it has grown, dropped/folded over, changed shape. It has two distinct protrusions (called a B belly for the shape) and if I’m honest: I don’t love it. I don’t actively think about covering it. I don’t willingly show it. I cringe when my spouse touches it.

I’m stuck on the story of this belly as a symbol of my body failures (failure to diet successfully, become thin, etc) over the years and that it is now too late. There is no going back. I’m over 40, my body is aging, and because I’m never going to diet or have weight loss surgery this is it – I’m fat for life and my body shape is going to continue to change in ways I cannot control. Hint: never could.

So when I left the house wearing this silver mini skirt I was more vulnerably sharing this part of me in a way I had not yet before. In a way I was not fully ready for. And I was even more not ready for others to respond in the way they did.

I usually get two specific reactions to my body:

1. I get an appreciative look over from people (mostly cis men) who express their enticement by my size and shape.
2. I get a knowing glance of “I see you! You go girl” from people (mostly cis women) who know the risks of being fat in public.

Sometimes, despite how visibly fat I am, I am just invisible which can be welcome.

The risks of being fat in public are usually contained in my own mind/experience. I may sit in an uncomfortable chair and feel embarrassed or frustrated about having to ask for one without arms – and while it’s never fun to witness someone’s facial expressions of surprise, confusion, and recognition before they move into action and get me a chair I can fit into… it doesn’t wound me deeply. Instead it’s just another of a thousand little paper cuts that adds up to the experience of being fat in public.

On Saturday, though, the risks were outsized and the impact was wounding. Several people – I counted three, which makes me shudder to think how many more there may have been that I missed – spoke loudly enough about my body and their experience of it that I could hear them over the parade music blasting over any normal conversation.

The first said, “oh look at Miss Piggy here” with a tone that was hard to read. I found myself questioning and grappling as I shook my body through the streets. Did they mean that as an insult? Missy Piggy is an icon! The tone wasn’t outright shaming but it wasn’t celebratory either. The person it came from had a slim, muscular body. Does the tone/intent matter? I attempted to mask my hurt, smiled bigger, moved with more energy and then I stumbled (emotionally and over my feet), now a little off center.

The second “oooh fatty!” happened when my back was turned. I didn’t see who said it. There are so many contexts in my life where that would have been okay, and this wasn’t one. I stumbled more. My shoulders started to slump, my smile faded, and I was aware of how exposed I was. Slumping made my belly bigger – there was nowhere to hide.

The third and final happened just after I had gotten some energy back. They were looking me straight in the eye as they pointed their phone and then their finger at me. “Look at that one! She’s soooo big!” and then they burst into raucous laughter with their friend. At an opportune turn in the choreography I found myself facing them again even after I had walked past. They were still pointing and laughing. I am supposed to represent the group when I’m in my uniform but the flight and fawn responses had already come and gone and fight was the only one I had left.

Instead of looking away I shouted “is that really necessary?” over the noise. They laughed again – maybe surprised that I was a human who could speak and not a lifeless installation presented for their entertainment and ridicule? They responded “you’re really big!!!” As if I don’t know that already. I shook my head. “I know, and you don’t have to be an asshole about it.” There was some recognition on their part then that we weren’t congenially engaged. I was still dancing away as they started to express regret and say “no no no…” Before I was out of earshot I said one more thing: “why don’t you try this? Come out here.” I couldn’t, they responded. I know I said to myself and choked back my sense of defeat and exhaustion.

Later I found out they approached another member of our group and apologized. Said they were just trying to “spread the love” and I shouldn’t “take it that way.” Interestingly, they didn’t approach me directly to share this apology or insight.

The rest of the crew was very loving and protective when they found out what happened. My son said he wanted to punch the guy in the face. I was hugged and loved on by my spouse. My best friend’s text response was exactly the right words: equal parts furious defense and compassionate lens widening. I was taken care of by some incredible people.

I felt angry, and hurt, and embarrassed. I was not eager to see the photos and videos of myself for fear of the really big, miss piggy, fatty I would see. When I saw the first whole body picture I actually had a moment when I rationalized what people had said to me. Oh yeah, it make sense… look at me. I deserve that.

Are you kidding me, inner critic?! No. No no no. None of that.

This experience was painful. I was also very well taken care of by people who love me and I am deeply grateful.

There is no moral here, friends. No nice easy clean wrap up. No I’m so glad I did it. No I love dancing so it was worth it. Nope. Just a true story and real emotions. No plea to think and be different. No list of instructions about how to treat fat people. Just a reminder that we impact each other. Just another window into a perspective you may not have. Do with it what you will. I am going to do my work and make sure it does for me.

I thought about quitting. I probably will not. I thought about never wearing revealing clothing again. I probably still will.

OK wait… Turns out I do have something. A reminder that in this world where we see more of peoples curated lives on social media then we spend actual time in deep conversation with them… Remember this:

You don’t have to be perfect to do the thing. The person who is out there appearing confident or pushing past their limits or doing the thing you believe you could never do is not necessarily doing it from a place of 100% authentic sureness. They may just be tired of living in fear. Or they may just not be sharing with you how scared they feel on the inside for fear that that isn’t what they are supposed to say. Or maybe they are naively stepping into the world forgetting it is often unsafe and getting the wind knocked out of them when they remember.

None of it is a reason not to live. Be kind to yourself – not everyone else will. But some people will.

In Conversation with your Inner Knowing I am listening for what you already know but haven’t been able to see clearly yet. I will reflect back to you what my soul hears and then you get to discern what is true and choose what you do with what you know.

It can be helpful to come into these conversations with a question, but it’s not necessary to have the question fully formed before we begin. I can help draw out the question and you will see it take shape within our conversation. Because a question can be just as valuable as any answer you might seek, I will not have answers to give you, but I will share what information I receive and invite you to stay with the question – looking to the natural world around you and within your soul for insights in the coming days and weeks.

You can also ask to leave with recommend practices that strengthen your relationship to your inner knowing.

How it Works

Once you set the intention to have this conversation by scheduling it you and I may both notice that the conversation starts to happen asynchronously. When we meet up in shared time, I will begin by asking you about what you’ve experienced in the days since you scheduled. As you share, I will be writing and doodling to keep the energy moving through my body. You may see me moving in other ways – and I invite you to do the same! Our conversation will flow naturally and I may ask you questions to draw out more insights. I will probably verbalize any sensations or experiences I am having to honor them with noticing. As the energy begins to settle, I will share what I am hearing and seeing. I am happy to take your questions and would love for you to respond with anything that comes up when I share. We can spend time talking about practices that will serve your inner knowing going forward as you wish!

Why this – Why now – Why me

This new offering was birthed from many years of being told by other intuitives that I could be doing what they were doing. While it’s taken me many years to find the courage to claim those gifts myself, after just a small amount of time in practice I’ve learned that I’ve been operating in relationship with my intuition all this time. The only thing different about these conversations and the way I’ve done my work in the past is what I’m calling them.

This new offering is being birthed now because my inner knowing told me it was time (both through MANY messages from trusted loved ones who repeated the same refrain and the inner resonance of soul truth).

I bring nearly 20 years of experience as a coach and mentor to these conversations. My coaching practice has been centered around helping my clients see their circumstances and choices clearly. I also bring 42 years as myself, in this body to these conversations. In the same ways that my body has innately been in conversation with those around me for my entire life, I’ve found that my version of an “intuitive reading” is a conversation between my intuition and your inner knowing. More about me and how I do my work at my site.

Logistics

Conversation with your Inner Knowing sessions are 45 minutes or 90 minutes in length and can take place in person in the Cincinnati, Ohio area, by phone, or via Zoom. Through December 2022, Conversations with your Inner Knowing are offered on a “pay what you wish” basis.

I am located in the US Eastern Time Zone and am primarily available between 10am and 7pm on Tuesdays, Fridays, and some Sundays. Please reach out via email (kate@ledbykate.com) or text (213-537-3714) to ask for more information or to schedule.

It would be my honor to be in conversation with your inner knowing.

The backyard was lined on one side with tall cypress trees that blocked the sun for most of the day and kept the unheated, uncovered water chilly. As a young adult who had moved back into the home I bought a fish that supposedly dispensed a fluid that floated on the surface of the water retaining the heat. It felt like it did – maybe a degree or two? It was probably the placebo effect. Anyway, for most of my life the water in the pool was uncomfortably cold for most of the swimming season. It was usually late August or September before it was finally warmed up enough to be pleasant. But the little pool, having less water to heat and being a little further out of the shade, was warm. Well, it was warmer.

So the little pool was a refuge. It was where the kids who were too young to know how to swim or too short to touch the bottom of the big pool shallow end played. It was a way to stay in the water a few minutes past when the night air got too cold to withstand the big pool’s frigid water temperature. It was a way to warm up a tiny bit when your lips started to turn blue but you still weren’t ready to dry off and go inside. It had bubbles!

In the the backyard, often filled with neighbors, cousins, and eventually high school friends, the little pool was a safe place. It was too small to splash around in. It could only contain a certain amount of people. It had limits and they had to be honored. The little pool was very clear about what it could contain.

There were some times, when the other swimmers and I were young enough and in small enough bodies that the limited capacity of the little pool was still too many people for my taste. For those moments, there was another body of water in the backyard that was several degrees warmer and only had room for one: “the puddle.” The puddle was an area where the pieces of concrete that made up the deck came together in a concave channel. A day’s worth of wet feet and splashy diving filled up the puddle. Or if it was a slow day, you could use the hose to get it going. The puddle was just big enough for an eight or ten year old to lie in and have most of their body rest in a 3-4″ deep reservoir of dirty, sun baked water. With a couple lawn chairs strategically placed over the puddle after the sun had warmed it, it offered privacy, sun protection, and a place to dream. When I lied there, unaware of the privilege of having a backyard pool and focusing mostly on wanting a backyard pool with a working heater, I fantasized about being at a resort in a working hot tub. In my mind, I owned this resort. It had many floors, the heated pool/hot tub were indoors on the ground level and above me (represented in this current plane by lawn furniture) were the guest rooms. It was a good time being a resort owner. The only down side was that leaving the resort left me with puddle grit all over my body that had to be washed off with a hose or dip back into the pool where washing off the accumulated warmth along with the grime.

The point of all of this, is that the more limited the space I was in… the safer I felt. The big pool was big. It could hold a lot of people. Any of whom could pretend to be the shark I was convinced lived in the pool scaring me more than I already was. Or simply people with a penchant for dunking. Or ill timed splashing. Or a lack of appreciation for synchronized swimming and other orderly activities (I have a lot of Virgo in my natal chart). The little pool reduced the variables so it was just a more comfortable place to be. The puddle reduced them even further and what emerged in that space were dreams, creativity, and imagination.

I’ve been feeling limited lately and not really knowing what to do with it. I have an innate sense that it is not a bad thing or a problem, just a change to learn how to get used to. I attribute a lot of the limits to age. I can’t lift as much, bend as easily, take on as long a day or as many projects. My body lets me know when too much is going on. My body is very insistent that we live within our limits. But this has not been my way of being. I’ve always taken on more more more and believed in my unlimited capacity to do so. I’ve learned not to do that for other reasons, but never because of feeling limited.

When I think about the little pool, or even better yet – the puddle, I recall something else my body knows. Limits are what contain the magic. Within constraints is where creativity flourishes. Boundaries that keep me safe create a container for my specific genius to thrive.

I wonder what will come out of me as I surrender to being limited.

The spring earth softens as it thaws, aided by warm rain, before it receives the seeds of newly budding trees.

The summer fruit softens on the vine, sending out a sweet scent inviting consumption whether by conscious choice of upright hominid or the instinctual drive of another animal. To reveal at its core – a seed – ready to be planted to begin life anew in next cycle. To play some small role in the attempted guarantee at species longevity.

They say the cervix ripens too. Certainly softening as it morphs from the rigid conical closure to a flat, welcoming entryway. Pushed and pulled into its new, only temporary form, by heavy uterine contraction and the signals sent on waves of hormones.

My body has been softening since I became an adult. Through layers of adipose formation, all arriving for different reasons: trauma, survival, pleasure, indulgence, creation. Eventually they formed enough sheets that they began to harden into a solid mass. It is beginning to soften again. Invited to do so by age.

I wonder what ultimate purpose will be revealed within me as I continue to ripen.