Category Archives: Guest Post

Guest Post: Pieces Lost & Found, Soul Retrieval

My darling friend, Susan, of the amazing Mariner to Mother blog has another tasty guest post for us. As you might remember, Susan has been actively and wonderfully healing the severe trauma she suffered in childhood at the hands of her caretakers. This time, she’s back to tell us about a fascinating and hugely healing practice that she recently underwent. Susan is such an inspiration. Please show her some love, here, guys for sharing more of her journey with us.

Susan

Pieces Lost and Found: Soul Retrieval Ceremony

As we grow up and go through life, things happen to us to cause us pain, discomfort, and trauma. These things can be big, like losing a parent when you still very much need them to be around. Or, they can seem smaller, like being so very proud that you dressed yourself and fancied up your hair all by yourself, when you were four, only to be met with disdain from your mother because you messed up your room in the process, leaving clothes all over the place. And, you ruined her best lipstick, wanting to be more like mom.

As life happens to us, little pieces of our soul can get left behind. The pure joy and love we have for ourselves as a wee one becomes hidden behind shadows of judgment. Have you ever asked a four-year old what she would change about herself? I saw a video recently where women of various ages were asked just that very question. All the adults talked about their bodies; things they didn’t like and wanted to change. But, when the young children were asked what they would change about themselves, many some said there was nothing to change. And, one imaginative child said they would add wings so they could fly. We are taught that we are defective; that there is something wrong with us.

Pretty soon our self-esteem is diminished. Our light becomes dull. And, by the time we reach adulthood, big chunks of who we really are have become blocked off from our consciousness. What healing work does, is to bring these bits and pieces back to us. At least, that’s how it feels. What it really does is uncover or unblock them from the rest of us, allowing us to actually be more of who we truly are.

I’ve been doing just this in a variety of ways for about the past five years, and have used different Energy Healing techniques to this end. Reiki, Matrix Energetics, unnamed energy healing often guided by intuition, and hypnotherapy are my most often used modalities.
Being curious about Native American methods, I recently went through a Soul Retrieval Ceremony. The idea of the ceremony is that a healer, in this case a Shamanic practitioner, creates a sacred space and invokes ancestors of the person wishing to be healed, to come forth and bring back pieces of the soul that have gone missing. During my ceremony, these pieces were brought back accompanied by a variety of birds and animals, who are symbolic.

It was a fascinating experience that began by having the space and all of the ceremony participants’ energy cleared and cleaned by using smoke from burning sage. This is called smudging. I talked with the Shamanic practitioner, answering a bunch of intake questions she had put together. I talked about my family and some of the dysfunctional dynamics that I grew up with, and about some relationships that I wish to change.

Once we got down to the brass tacks of the ceremony itself, I was lying down on the floor with my husband sitting by my head. The Shamanic practitioner lay right beside me, arms touching, and we also had a drummer drumming out a fast drum beat to assist the practitioner get into the meditative state. My job was to stay present. My husband’s job was to help me stay present and to “love the shit out of me, ” as he was directed by the practitioner.

The practitioner at this point had created a sacred space and called in ancestors to help us. Bit by bit, pieces of my soul were brought back. Love of life, love of nature, and love of self were accompanied by a monkey, a bear, and an elephant. There was a shift in one relationship in particular that I’ve been having some difficulty with, and time will tell how that will all work out. And, at one point, lots of light energy flowed through my entire back, affecting me down to the DNA level. The practitioner had a few tools that she used to usher my soul back into me and to cut energetic cords that are no longer beneficial for me. She had a rattle, a crystal shaped like a pyramid, and a polished piece of rose quartz. She had other tools, but these stand out in my mind.

Her work went on for about 30-40 minutes, and then she was done. With the end of the drumbeat, the practitioner told me what she experienced and what soul pieces came back to me. When all was said and done, we shared tea and I showed my appreciation by giving these wonderful, supportive people a few small gifts I’d picked out for each of them, as well as giving a gift of abundance ($) to the practitioner.

One of the things I’ve noticed after I do energy work, especially when big shifts are happening, is that I get very tired and need sleep. Much of the changing happens when I sleep. So, after the ceremony, it was all I could do to keep my eyes open that night until about 9 pm, when I finally crashed and slept.

Since the ceremony, one distinct thing I’m noticing is a shift in my chronic back pain. Because of severely herniating a disc in my low back about six years ago, I often have discomfort, especially when I lie flat on my back. There is increased comfort now.

Another thing that’s going on, although I am not able to recognize it yet for myself, is a gradual healing on the energetic level of things that have manifested at the physical level. I live with acid reflux and an underactive thyroid. Both of these existed energetically outside of my physical body before I felt physical symptoms. Now that I’m working on healing these at the energetic level (while taking medicine to support my body as long as it needs that support), at some point, my physical body will be healed and I won’t need these meds.

So, if I can’t “see” this happening, how do I know it is? I work with a woman who is a medical intuitive, who can see energy and who is able to actually see this happening. Awesome!

With regards to the challenging relationship, I feel more detached from this person who could quite easily set me off. I don’t interact with them very often, so it may take a long while to see just how things have changed there. But one thing I do know for sure is if you have a challenging relationship with a person, when you change you, it will definitely change the relationship. Letting go of old “hooks” that set you off, is a beautiful way to cherish yourself.

What I know for sure about soul retrieval, is that as I do this work and make shifts, I feel more and more like me. I carry less and less crap belonging to other people, because I realize that it isn’t mine to carry. And, I am feeling a deeper sense of peace in my heart. Recently, I defined peace as the ability to stand with people who are swirling dust devils of their own shit, while I stay centered.

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I don’t know about you guys, but I want to know more about this. So, I looked up a few resources on soul retrieval. Here’s some stuff to paw through:

  • The Foundation for Shamanic Studies web site
  • Sandra Ingerman’s web site on soul retrieval
  • An interesting article on soul retrieval by Sandra Ingerman (she’s everywhere, I tell ya)
  • Sandra’s book on the topic
  • Here’s a link to a really loving healing center in WA that Susan shared with me; they do Akashic Records work with people, which Susan tells me is basically another form of soul retrieval work
  • Here’s the practitioner with whom Susan worked on her soul retrieval ceremony

Guest Post: Aligning with the Highest Self through Hypnotherapy

Hi, BigBodyBeautiful friends! This is a guest post by one of the most amazing women I’ve ever had the joy and privilege of knowing. Like many people, Susan (of the kick-ass blog, Mariner to Mother) has suffered deeply at the hands of her caretakers, but what sets Susan apart from others is how she has dealt with this trauma. The difference is her unflinching honesty and responsibility. Susan takes utter responsibility for her healing and her journey here on Mother Earth. I simply LOVE this woman’s presence, her aliveness, and her willingness to work on herself. Please show Susan some love for so bravely putting her story here for us. And, please visit her blog and tell her that Lizzy sent you. XOXO

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First, I’d like to thank our dear, sweet, scrumptious Liz for inviting me to guest blog here on Big Body Beautiful.

I’m a former merchant mariner, ship’s deck officer, who came to shore and settled down a dozen years ago. During those dozen years, I became a mother to an amazing and often challenging son. Over the past four years I have been a student of energy medicine, became a Reiki practitioner, and experienced a spiritual awakening.

My childhood looked, from the outside, to be a typical middle class experience, complete with music lessons, summer vacation trips, and playing on various sports teams. However, behind closed doors, growing up with an unmedicated bipolar mother was an experience that was very tough at times. When my mother was manic, she would verbally assault me at the drop of a hat. And when she was depressed, she was often unavailable as a mother. I didn’t have a lot of childhood memories until the past few years, when through doing healing work, some memories have come back. Using a variety of healing methods, I am releasing old fear, anger, and other detrimental emotions that became physically trapped in my young body. And, I’m ferreting out old beliefs that don’t work for me anymore.

One of my favorite healing modalities is hypnotherapy. I’ve had short series of sessions with a handful of different hypnotherapists over the past 13 years, working toward a goal of not needing to use food to numb me from uncomfortable emotions and nondescript feelings. While I was working with the first three hypnotherapists, even though we were supposedly working on food issues, what came forth were some absolutely amazing spiritual sessions: including being healed by an angel. A month ago, I resumed working with a woman, Lia, who synthesizes her extensive training and experience in the fields of psychotherapy, transpersonal psychology, and hypnotherapy.peach orange rose

During my most recent hypnotherapy session, I decided to work on body image. Growing up, I didn’t have anyone to model healthy body image. My mother was always dissatisfied with her body, always on a diet, feeding me the message that she was overweight and not ok. I took that message into my little body and by the time I was 13, I joined Mom on the dieting bandwagon. For the record, my mother was not overweight, and neither was I, back then.

After putting me into deep relaxation, Lia asked me to hover above a timeline of my life and go back to a time where I first had an issue with my body (or dieting). I popped back to eight years old. Someone told me I was fat; probably my older brother, teasing me. Feeling sad and confused, I really took it in. Then, Lia had my current day adult me go talk to my eight-year-old self. I told my young self that she was absolutely perfect just as she was- she was not fat at all. And, that she had a great, strong body that was just right. When the young me heard that, she became very happy and joyful. She gained confidence and strength. I actually saw her aura pop out from her body, signifying that she developed a sense of self and some personal boundaries. She really felt good about herself.

Then, I was prompted to move forward in time to the next time I didn’t feel so great about my body. I was 13 and had gotten my period and was not sure about all of these changes in my developing body. I was very unsure about my new curves and boobs and period. I didn’t feel confident at all about myself, and was confused with all of the changes. When my older self talked to my 13 year-old self, I reassured her that the changes she was going through were very normal and natural, and that she had a great body that was very pretty, that she was cute, and everything was just as it was supposed to be. I told her that she would get used to her new body and that it was a great body. With the reassurance, I noticed that the 13 year-old me became very grounded and centered. The feeling was that nothing could knock her over. All she needed was reassurance from me. Her confidence soared.

Then, I moved forward to when I was barely 15 and just had my daughter. The 15 year-old felt completely ruined in every way. She felt physically ruined, emotionally ruined, just ruined. I told her that she had been through a tough time and got a bad deal, but that she was awesome and perfect. And, because she was only 15, her body would come back to being a cute teenage body with a little bit of healthy eating and exercise. Yes, she will always have the stretch marks, but that’s OK because she brought a beautiful little girl into the world. A little girl who would make a couple into a family, who would raise her well and that she would be happy. I also reminded her that she did NOTHING wrong. It was NOT her fault. At first, the 15 year old got really mad, mad at the perpetrator who molested her, because he had ruined her perfect body. She was pissed!! It took a while, but she slowly came around to the idea that her body was great, and that she totally rocked. She was able to see that she did get her cute body back after some healthy eating and exercise and that it was a great, strong body. Finally, she felt awesome about herself.

Then, Lia had the energies of the various me’s roll up the timeline and join in with present-day me. I felt the confidence and strength of the other me’s, and it felt more confident than present-day me. As the energy of each me moved forward up the timeline, I received a message from them. First, the eight-year-old, who had been waiting a very long time for her knight in shining armor to come riding in to save her, when all along, she realized, it was the adult me that she was waiting for. She was in tears of gratitude, thanking me for saving her. Then, the thirteen-year-old expressed her thanks to me for coming back and rescuing her as well. More tears. Finally, the fifteen-year-old was filled with love and gratitude that I had finally come back and saved her as well. Her message also included, “What took you so long?” Tears and laughter.

Once the transformed energies of the past merged into present time, I clairvoyantly got the message: “You don’t need food anymore. You have all of the me’s holding you up, keeping you strong.” What a powerful message.

From there, Lia reinforced all of the positive, new thoughts and beliefs, rewriting my past and rewiring my brain.

I have learned that with each session, I clear away old, trapped energies. And, in doing so, change happens. It’s a process. Over time, small and even not-so-small shifts begin to add up. Specifically with food, I have already shifted the types of food I eat so significantly from what I grew up eating, that the last time I stayed with my mother for a visit (a few years ago), she was having difficulty knowing what to plan for dinner. She hadn’t changed a whip, but I sure had. And, when uncomfortable emotions come up, my knee-jerk reaction isn’t to go eat something (most of the time). These days, I truly appreciate how amazing my body is; all of the things it does for me without my thinking about them. And, that it is designed as a self-healing, divine vessel for my beautiful soul so that I can experience this life I have.

Guest Post: Yoga Saved Me from Body Hatred

This is a guest post by the darling Jen at Yoga-Moods.com. Jen and I have connected deeply on our mutual love of yoga and the body. On her highly informative, wonderful, and serene blog, she writes about the precious gift that is yoga and how it is helping her and others live richer, fuller lives. So, my BBB friends, let’s show Jen some love for so bravely exploring her transformation from body-hater to body-lover.

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Hello! I’m so honored that Liz invited me to write a post for Big Body Beautiful! I hope that my words resonate with you and perhaps help someone who is searching for a way to deep self-love.

For many years, I struggled with self-hate. I didn’t realize that’s what it was at the time. It was more a feeling of the world being against me. I see it clearly now, though. I didn’t love myself enough. I was painfully shy as a kid and I felt inferior to my peers. I remember the first day of kindergarten feeling so overwhelmed by everyone around me. I felt different from the rest of them.  While they laughed and chatted freely with each other, I shrank into the background, feeling as if I didn’t fit in. My red hair and freckles set me apart. I felt ugly and cursed my uniqueness. I was uncomfortable when called on in class. I surely couldn’t have anything valuable to contribute. Anxiety exuded from me and others felt it, too. This exacerbated the problem. Kids teased me, bullied me, and sometimes simply ignored me. I felt left out and diminished. I truly believed there was something wrong with me – and it started with my looks. Thankfully, I was blessed with real friends who accepted me and celebrated my individuality. But, that wasn’t enough to change my opinion of myself. I cringe to think how much easier things could have been had I discovered then what I know now: self-love is necessary for happiness!  Cultivating self-love is crucial in order to serve your purpose and live your dreams.

I remember as a second-grader sizing myself up in a full-length mirror.  My body is OK, I thought, but my face and hair? Terrible!  When I was 12, a family member asked me why my belly wasn’t flat like my friend’s after a day at the beach. I often heard this person bemoaning her own “thunder thighs,” saying I was lucky that I took after Dad. She often talked about how many of the women in her own family thought of themselves as ugly, though most of them were quite beautiful in reality. Still, the message was that my stomach was “too flabby” at age 12. I wish I could have ignored this comment, but it cut me to the core. For years, I focused so much on that belly wishing it would shrink. I starved myself. I berated myself. I did sit-ups and crunches like there was no tomorrow! My family then worried that I was getting “too thin.”

Despite having boyfriends who were clearly attracted to me, I still compared myself to models. I was unhappy with my face, my hair, my breasts, my butt…. One time, a boyfriend remarked how sexy my “potbelly” was, and instead of taking it as a compliment, I fell further into self-destruction. Strict diets, outrageous exercise routines, and constant self-criticism ruled my life.  It didn’t get me anywhere except unhealthy. Not to mention, I was thin – talk about body dysmorphic disorder. And, I was so focused on myself I couldn’t possibly serve others, which was always my life’s goal.

And then, something miraculous happened. I discovered yoga! It was, quite literally, as if a light shone down from the heavens! I felt as if I had found the key to life. Yoga has healed me in so many ways; I’d need to write an entire book to scratch the surface. But, the most important way yoga healed me was in allowing me to cultivate true self-love and acceptance. I got physically healthy in a gentle way, pushing myself to my limits but being kind to myself when I needed rest. I gained strength, which led to confidence. I had found a refuge – my yoga mat or my meditation cushion – where I could put everything else aside for a while and just be. All of this led to a profound self-love, which continues to grow and enhance my life today.

Jen-Yoga-Moods

Years of asana practice helped me tune in to my body’s capabilities, strengths, and needs. I discovered I could do things I never would’ve believed. When I mastered a new pose, it was an instant confidence boost. Yoga helped me finally come to peace with my body, and to actually develop that more toned stomach I always yearned for. It helped me begin to make healthier choices in my diet, my lifestyle, and with whom I surrounded myself. It helped me to accept that, as a woman, my body is constantly changing. My weight will fluctuate, I will experience break-outs, I may not always feel energized, and that’s all OK. Under it all, I am a beautiful soul, perfect and complete. When I focus on this, and my “connectedness” with others (which yoga also encourages), I am much more happy and productive. Every day I practice asana. Whether it’s a 90-minute class, a few sun salutations, or a quick break at work, it is a part of my life. If, for some reason, I can’t do my asana practice, though, I don’t worry about it. It’s not a chore; it’s a joy. I do it because I love it, and I do it for the continual benefits it brings.

Asana practice alone, however, I’m not sure would’ve done the trick. Dedicated meditation practice (also a major part of yoga, though we often think of yoga as physical) was also essential. Meditation took me to the depths of my soul and back. It was difficult, and I encountered things I’d have preferred to keep hidden. I emerged from meditation in tears on more than one occasion, but it was worth the effort. Over time, a deep, profound love developed inside of me. Love filled my entire being and overflowed into the world. Love sustains me every day and has enhanced my relationships. I confronted my deepest fears and allowed things to arise in my consciousness that I wasn’t fully aware were affecting my daily life. My self-limiting beliefs became very clear and I started working on changing them.

yoga_buddhaRegular meditation practice and checking in with myself, with love, keeps me steady, confident, and calm.  As much as possible, I wake up every day and meditate for 20 minutes.  I try to do the same when I come home from work. If I miss a day, I don’t fret, I just continue the following day. I take the meditation off the cushion, as well, engaging in mindful walks, eating, listening to music, creating art, making love….The list goes on. Just being present wherever I am. Meditation gives the gift of mindfulness that seeps into all areas of life. It trains us to bring ourselves into the present moment, the only moment during which we can act. This precludes worry and anxiety and allows us to truly enjoy living! Namaste, my friends!

Breaststrokes: “Natural”; A Guest Post by Claudia Moss

Editor’s note: This is installment #3 in a series of guest posts by the wonderful, prolific, and talented Claudia Moss. In this series, Claudia artfully explores the voice, opinions, and reality of women’s breasts and what they experience. Enjoy! And, please, please show Claudia some love by commenting here.

Natural

It’s the catchphrase on everybody’s lips. Natural this and natural that. We honestly cannot go more than three days without bumping into the word in some way, form or fashion. Yes, we understand that a considerable percentage of the population wants to be natural today more than ever, but, goodness, why we hypocritical about it?

Educate yourself, for Heaven’s sake.

Think about it. Consumers want natural foods with as few preservatives as possible. Over half the FDA-approved additives in our processed food will no doubt leave us six feet under, given enough years of eating it. What’s natural about macaroni and cheese bright enough to tie-dye five white T’s? Give us naturally brown eggs, with unbleached shells; brown rice or maybe even black rice, which is new to us, in place of white rice. And, let’s not forget the catchphrase whole-wheat flour instead of bleached, lily-white flour.

That word natural is a stream, flowing over into grooming and hair care. It’s unnatural for mothers, black or white, at least the white ones with biracial children, don’t need to be combing creamed lye into their children’s nappy hair, burning the daylights out of them while instilling the premise: “Something is inherently wrong with the way your hair is right now, in its natural form. And, in order for you to presentable in my eyes and yours and the world’s at large, please sit still while we bring order to these unruly naps!”

Then, you have the fashionista, natural, hair-care divas with YouTube on lockdown. Sisters talking self love for others with naps and curls and waves and kinks. Sisters who are not only bringing the natural, hair-care tips, but sisters who always demonstrate right there in their bathrooms and bedrooms how to be thankful for and glorify the beauty of nappy hair.

The power of the video is a wonderful thing.

Let’s not forget the natural-oriented fitness community. One of our favorite fitness queens on Instagram, that awesome Mankofit, just plugged eating right, with the right servings of vegetables and protein and drinking water, works better for her than drinking the whey protein-powdered drinks. They’re the new fitness craze, another way, we say, to bank dollars. If you have enough funds to purchase a $34 plastic bag or $62 canister of the powder, then why not put those dollars into fresh produce? It’s got to be better than continuously drinking something that you don’t actually know the ingredients of. The tiny print in its contents section looks like Greek or Malaysian.
I’m just saying.

Now, if you care to follow me in other directions, consider the natural fabrics that allow the body to breathe. Or, the shoe that is engineered to fit the natural curvatures of your feet. What of using natural gas to power the energy-needing sources in your house? And, the natural resources we need to be honoring and preserving?

So, with all this talk of us living in a world going more natural every day, somebody please tell us why we are so “unnatural” that she can’t ever put us in her baby’s mouth without the family going into battle about it, simply lining up and taking all sorts of stabs, above and below the belt, about it.
It gets so crazy, so unnaturally insane, until we want to scream, “Where else on a woman’s body can milk be secreted to nourish an infant? Can somebody please answer this for us?”

And if you can’t find any other place on a woman’s body to do that, please don’t edit and proofread and revise what the Divine has preordained for a baby’s first meal. I mean, folks, it’s not even relegated to homo sapiens. Animals under the umbrella of mammals have teats and suckle their young, people!

You would think that people forget that everyone has a chest—if they are living, and some men have literal breasts, when they are overweight. Dressed, people forget this bit of minutia, until a woman pulls out one of us to do what thus made the Lord, okay?

The problem is the world’s mind is wrongfully thinking.

If all people can see when they see us or bump into us or feel us or read about us is sex and dirty sex (for why else would they think we are so nasty and need to be bound and lifted and smothered and covered, like hash browns,) then scientists and spiritual leaders have got it wrong. We are not advancing, getting better with each generation. In truth, we are heading backward…or maybe we are standing still, locked in stasis, considering cavemen and women knew to put a baby to a woman’s breast, we’re thinking.

Why can’t the family see that we are magical?

When the baby cries out in hunger, we download a stream of milk in response—we are that attuned to Mother Nature’s call. And, even when she thinks about the baby when she is away from the baby, we will discharge sustenance, reminding her to return to the little one. How can knowing how to do what we were made to do be wrong?

She has gone to taking a lightweight drape to toss over her shoulder as she nurses the baby if she is going into the public. That keeps harsh eyes from glaring at us and the baby, which isn’t good, to say the least, for either of us. The cold way some people stare would make you think we’d committed a capital offence and should expect to be arrested at any moment.

“That’s right,” Cedric blares, when she sat on the long sofa one evening and peeled the lap back on her nursing bra and placed one of our nipples in the baby’s ravenous mouth. “Why don’t you listen to your mother and go upstairs or in another room when you do that?”

“Do what?” she asks, drawing him out. We knew she was tired of his rude, self-righteous tone.
He smirked and clicked the television remote. “You know. What you are doing.”
“Feeding our child is what I’m doing.”
“Don’t be cute, Jadira. You know what I mean.”
“Honey, I told you. In my day, I nursed you children in private. Some things are only for your husband to see.” Her mother is in the rocking chair across the room, barely able to stay in the room. She’ll be fleeing soon.
“What is it with you? My nipple? I don’t even have my whole breast exposed. Is it my opened blouse? Or, is it a tiny sucking mouth doing what comes naturally, instead of what is perceived as sexual?”
Cedric’s back stiffens. “Why do you have to go there? Nobody mentioned that nonsense, woman. We just want you to cover up and go somewhere else to do that is all. Damn.” He huffs loudly. “Do you have to make everything dirty?”
Her sister laughs softly with her legs pulled up in the armchair near the kitchen. “No. I’d say you guys do that exceptionally well already.”
“Sophie.” This from her mother, to keep Cedric from commenting, but it doesn’t work.
“Stay out of grown-folks conversation, girl. I done told you about that, but you just like your sister.”
Sophie’s different. We love her.
She giggles and answers, “Oh, forgive me. You’re right. All grown-folks’ conversations aren’t equal and worthy entering to share truth, light and love.”
“SOPHIE.”
“Excuse me, Mama. But what’s right is right, and he’s right on another account. I’m ‘just like Jadira,’ except I wouldn’t have made some of her choices.” She looks over at us, nursing. “Not that you’re my favorite person, Jadira.”
She and Jadira share soft, musical laughter.
“No need to explain, Baby Sis. We speak the same language,” Jadira agrees.
“And, that is precisely why she will be an old maid and you,” he says, waving the remote at his wife, “maybe an older maid with her, you keep that talk up.”
“Aaaaw, that sounds delightful!” Jadira sighs and looks at Sophie, who adds, “Yes. Sounds like the glory of liberation!”
The baby releases a nipple, palms our white nursing bra and glances up at his mama and smiles, full and satisfied. He coos his gratitude.
“And, I see Junior is in agreement,” Jadira says.
Before lifting the flap back over one of our nipples, she lifts the baby to her right shoulder and gently massages a burp from his middle.
Sophie leans over the side of her chair. “Good boy,” she coos. “That’s Auntie Sophie’s fav nephew.”
Cedric hurls his disgust into a nearby chair with the remote before stalking out of the family room.
“See, both of you are, plain and simple, unnatural,” their mother affirms. “Haven’t I taught you anything? Women do not goad men. Now stop it. PLEASE.”

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This is post number three, in a series of guest posts provided by the incomparable Claudia Moss, author, radio personality, speaker, dancer, and all-around AMAZING WOMAN! Please share your thoughts here, BigBodyBeautiful peeps; better yet, visit Claudia’s links below, tell her how you feel about her writings, and connect with this Goddess of self-esteem.

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https://www.Amazon.com/author/claudiamoss
www.theGolden-Goddess.blogspot.com
https://www.facebook.com/claudia.moss.35
www.Twitter.com/theLadySiren
www.BlogTalkRadio.com/ClaudiaMossShow
www.YouTube.com/theLadyBestseller
http://about.me/claudiamoss
www.Talkshoe.com/tc/125101
www.claudiamoss.wordpress.com
www.Twitter.com/WandaBWonders
http://www.tumblr.com/blog/thegoldengoddess

Breaststrokes: Titty City; A Guest Post by Claudia Moss

Shoot. That’s kinda cute. Talk about giving up something, like a sacrifice, we’d have given up our Claudia Moss LIVE picprized ace-boon-coon roadie, Sita, to have the kids at school and random ole common folks in the street look at us and see “cute” and “shotgun” in the same thought. Kinda like they saw Sita, whose ‘breasteses,’ yeah, that’s what we said, put them in the mind, we know, of sexy melons a couple years shy of plucking, at least in this country. Where Sita from in New Delphi, way over across the globe in India, she’d already be some ancient, wealthy man’s wife and him and her babies would be hanging like Christmas ornaments from her breasteses right now. Then again, they probably never be as gargantuan as us, we don’t care how many old men and babies laid gums to them.

We so huge, we make Sita’s grandma look flat chested.

And we won’t even mention her Amma, Sita’s word for Mama. It blows us away every time we see her and those two handballs she got. Won’t even mention she done had five babies. Five. Sita is the baby, like me, but she got four brothers, who all try as hard as they can to keep they eyes in they head when we come around.

Yeah. We that huge.

Make it so bad, we have nothing to blame but Mama’nem gene pool. We come from a long line of big-breasteses womens. Mama’s make her look like a capital letter P. You can’t even tell she got hips and legs and a stomach under her clothes, her top that heavy. We’d never ever tell her, cause we only told Sita that Sunday after church, when Sister Foote whispered to that nosy Johns woman that Mama’nem were “catfish,” one and all.

“Catfish?” Sita ask, that black braid snaking down her back riled up and flopping. “I don’t understand.”

We didn’t either until we passed the word back and forth between us for a day or so. Daylight got shed on matters when our sister Kat overheard us on the back porch, thinking out loud, swinging on the scratchy wooden swing.

“Who call who that?” she want to know.

We told her.

“They can talk,” Kat growl. “All them favor water buffalo.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t tell us what ‘catfish’ mean,” Sita chip in.

Kat open the screen door on her way back into the kitchen. “It mean a woman favor a huge fish, a catfish be good as any, just that her feets be like two lil fins and her body go up into a oversize fish head that stick out, ‘cept her stick-out mouth be her humongous bosom.”

In that minute, fish-faced, too, we must’ve looked as crazy as Chicken Little.

“Should’ve known. Mama’nem so pretty that’s all Sister Foote and that ole Johns woman could make mention of—her breasteses,” we say.

“They jealous.”

“That and mean,” Kat add.

Sita nod her agreement.

“Wonder if the kids at school jealous when they call us Titty City. The boys say it mostly. A few of the girls join the Peanut Gallery, when they aiming to show off. They say, ‘Girl, if all titties in the city disappeared tomorrow, you got enough titties to give every girl and woman two cups each. DAMN. You a titty factory. Just a titty plant. How you sleep? You ever topple over standing up with all that? Bet it’s a sheer miracle you can get out of bed on yo’ own in the morning!’”

Kat turn around, step over to the swing. “Scoop over, Baby Girl,” she say.

We scoot over and she hug us, her arms squeezing our shoulders tight. Then Sita, face droopy and cute, like one of the new puppies in the backyard, reach over and hug me from the left, her lil thin Indian arms hugging Kat’s. All of us in a group hug.

“Don’t pay folks no never mind,” Kat say, her tone grown up, sounding more like Mama’nem. “Remember. It ain’t about you.”

“No,” Sita chip in again. “It’s about them and how they feel inside.”

The most important thing is how we feel inside, this much we do know. The first chance we get we gone look into getting a breasteses reduction, we don’t care what nobody say about leaving this life with what you came with. Even though we loving all the love Kat and Sita showering us with right about now, that don’t discount the fact there ain’t hardly no room in this swing, we squeezing out the air and space, between us and Kat’s breasteses and Sita—well, hers ain’t even touching my arm, they so small, and she squeezing the wind out of herself.

Next time one of them boys, or girls, for that matter, say something to us at school, we gone get up and plop out of this T-shirt and bop somebody upside the head. We can see it now: “Boys Assaulted by Classmate’s Chest.” Teach them who to mess with.

As for Sister Foote and that Johns lady, they better not let us overhear another conversation like that last one. If so, we gone forget Mama’nem home training and inform them they need to hush up and figure out which pond Brother Foote and Deacon Johns splashing around in.

Now there.

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This is part two, in a series of three guest posts provided by the incomparable Claudia Moss, author, radio personality, speaker, dancer, and all-around AMAZING WOMAN! Please share your thoughts here, BigBodyBeautiful peeps; better yet, visit Claudia’s links below, tell her how you feel about her writings, and connect with this Goddess of self-esteem.

Claudia Moss