I think I’m experiencing activist fatigue.
This realisation came about after reading Mia Freedman’s column on the OMGbesity “crisis”
Well, to be fair, it wasn’t so much the column as some of the comments.
Yeah, I broke my own rule: Never read the comments.
If I hadn’t though, I would never have come across some brilliant, fact-based comments from Bri over at Fat Lot of Good
I don’t know how she does it. If it were me, facing these types of comments all the TIME, I would probably not be able to form any other words but an incoherent rage-filled scream much like this: RAHHHHHHLAJDFLASKJFLASDFFLKJ.
I’m tired. I haven’t been an active activist for very long and I’m already tired. How do those who have been identifying as activists for ages stand it? How do you fight against the constant barrage of negativity, aimed at your body, aimed at your sex? How much more can a person’s blood pressure take without popping a blood vessel and frothing at the mouth?
Sometimes I feel like giving up. Like throwing my hands up in the air and proclaiming: “Alright, fine. You win. All fatties are bad fatties. They put two whole cakes in their mouth at any given time and drink ten gazillion litres of soft drink in front of Oprah. You totally have the right to pass judgement on everyone. Go team you!”
But I know I can’t do that. No matter how tired I am, I can’t agree with comments like that. I have to keep arguing. Sometimes it’s informed arguing, sometimes it’s incoherent rage arguing.
And that’s ok. I’ve realised, it’s ok to be tired of it. It’s ok to have moments of wanting-to-give-up.
I’m going to take a break for a couple of days. Focus on me, focus on some positivity.
Keep fighting, I’ll join again soon.