Full, Loved, Enough

Are you breathing today?  Are you centered and okay?

Loving Prana like you wanna, it’s the natural way.

Sister, look at your curves.

Never let me hear you say

“how I wish this ugly piece of me would melt away.”

We are down with the booty,

down with the breasts,

but we’re hatin’ on the belly and we never let it rest.

I fight it too, every day I forget to breathe,

turn away from the mirror and the strength I see,

but I come back around like a pop song.

I see the whole picture, and ain’t nothin’ wrong.

There is more than one healthy shape in this world.

If you’re good to yourself, it’s all good, girl.

-WIP, “Full, Loved, Enough” by Renée & Sooj, aka Zeze Oiseau


This is gonna sound incredibly sappy and saccharine, but it’s true.

I’ve had female friends (cis, trans, fluid, and more) of all sizes and shapes and sorts, all my life.  I’m fortunate to be someone who has a very hard time seeing ‘ugly’.  I don’t feel the need to judge.  I don’t make “beauty ideal” comparisons, not of people I care about.

That includes a whole lot of fans and a whole lot of friends. 🙂

It’s difficult for me to explain: not really seeing something that I just don’t see.

Sometimes it causes me trouble.  Like the afternoon shopping trip with my college friends, when I learned that very few clothing stores would actually be fun for everyone in what I considered our drop dead gorgeous group.  Hello, retail reality.

But most of the time, I consider it a gift.

My darlings (I’m talking to You), when I think of you fondly, I am not thinking of how you look.  I am thinking of your smile.  Your words.  Your sass.  Your attitude.  Your laughter.  Your voice.  Your mannerisms.  The things that make me glad to see you, every time.  Know that.

Body issues are vicious.  They are insidious, and they are a thing we have to keep fighting.  They tend to grow back after we cut them down.  Over and over.  Every person, of every body type, is subject to them.  That includes me.

Recently, I slipped up and made a friend a little frustrated.  She asked about a mutual friend of ours, how she was doing, and I said “she’s a size six now,” intending it as good news.  Not meaning it as criticism for anyone who wasn’t that size, but sharing it as a joyful thing, because that’s the way our mutual friend had shared the news with me.

But my friend responded, with small frustration, in her frank way (which I love), “I’ve always thought she was beautiful, in any size.”

So have I.

What I should have said, perhaps, was simply, “she’s very, very happy.”  I will watch out for that opportunity in future conversations and try to do better, be more aware.

Here’s the thing.  F*ck dress sizes.  They are inconsistent, they are not very well standardized between brands or designers or stores or countries (in my personal experience), and also, no two people – no two bodies are the same.

I do not love you because of your dress size.  I do not love you more or less if you experience a change in dress size.

I love you because you’re YOU, and there’s no one else like you.

You are more than your shape.

But your shape is also part of you.  You can change your shape, your gender identity, and your mind.  But you can’t live without them.

With that in mind, please practice self-care whenever you can, as opposed to self-loathing.  If you’re not sure what self-care looks like for you, think about the things that make you happy.  Think about things you’ve never done before that you think might improve your day.  Write them down.  Give them a try.  If you don’t feel good enough in that moment to do it for yourself, do it for your Sooj.

It’s sounds cheesy as hell.  I know.

But do it for me, and I’ll do it for you.

My greatest wish for you is that you will find that you are full, loved, and enough.