I RAPPED ON THE INTRO OF THE PODCAST. WHY AM I NOT CARDI E!?
Today I posted my 10th Podcast episode for +Plus Size Magic Radio. In January, you could not have told me I would have made it to number 10. Not because I did not want to do the work and see the vision come to life, but because a topic like being fat can be shot down in many ways. People don’t have the ability to understand your struggle without saying “eat a salad” or people who identify as fat not willing to own up to their identity. With the latter, I wanted to make a space where +plus sized persons could say “I’m fat…okay? and?” So I did that. We did that.
The first day I announced +Plus Size Magic radio I was conflicted on what I should say, what should be included, edited out, and how I would even get it on the internet…to an audience. I stopped fighting myself and feeding into the doubts I had and just did it. I became Nike. I became Jordan in the 4th quarter with a pair of 13s on and hit the coldest dunk they were going to see from a fat chick with goals. The buzzer went off and I looked up and had 163 listens on my first episode. I WAS A WINNER.
At least by my standards. I WAS A WINNER.
At one point it became unreal how much love and support I was getting. People were actually rooting for me. They were supporting the idea behind letting fat people share their narratives without greeting us with a bowl of Herbalife and a dumbbell. I was finally able to say I am fat and this is what I have to deal with. DAMNIT LISTEN TO ME. And they did. Week after week I had someone follow me, unfollow me, like a post, repost, spam me, and say yes (and not respond) to an interview request I sent. But then I became
frustrated ungrateful. The followers were not in the 1,000s, Beyonce and Oprah hadn’t called me, yet. I was wondering where my Cardi B moment was. I RAPPED ON THE INTRO OF THE PODCAST. WHY AM I NOT CARDI E! But I was, slowly.
This journey was made easy by God and I found enjoyment in it. I mean, if I had a paper to write, I worked on Fatness Fiction for hours and then strolled right to my bed like the paper was not due tomorrow at 11:59 p.m. That is when I recognized I had found my passion. I could be the person I hid in the comfort of my sister. The one that slid out when I had shots of Hennessy followed by Moscato (Don’t do this. But it is a lit situation). I was able to rap, do lyricism, perform, talk to people about my stretch marks, and watch them open up and even show me theirs. WE WERE CONNECTING.
So here is to 10 episodes. 10 weeks. 1 dream and a million more to come (Okay, thousand). But you never know…Big Oprah might hit this hotline one day. I’ve already planned out my interview with Jay Z. We got big plans pimpin’.