Dark Rooms


I’m sitting here alone in a dark room. My boyfriend is gone for the weekend and I failed to turn any lights on before the sun set completely. The fan is brushing in all the cool air from outside and I can’t help but think of all the time people spent “teaching” me how to be happy. The concept is a little ironic, since I blog for that very reason, to feel what I only occasionally manage to muster up in myself.

I have to be honest. I’m never really sure if I doing it right, life that is; even on my very best day. I’m also pretty sure that most of the world is sitting next to me on that. I think, mostly, because we don’t actually live to be happy. We live according to what happy is supposed to look like.

You should be allowed to love yourself the way you want to love yourself. For some that’s openly and in response to adoration from others. For me, it stems from the mere concept of making a difference. Yet in the same light, I find true solace in my own mind and thoughts. I believe that comes from a lifetime of feeling like I have only my two feet to stand on and often leads me to write most of these pieces to myself.

I hate to assume what people think of me, because my thoughts are not always the prettiest. However, what I’ve gathered to accept is that many would consider me a social butterfly. I put on a smile, I dress up, and I act like I own the world. I’ll be the first to admit that… and some days that’s enough.

The crazy part is that fact that 80% of the time; I’d rather be alone, in my room, with the lights off, just like this. I find I love myself most in these moments. You could blame it on my childhood, or my inability to attach myself to things permanently. It’s kind of ugly, the way I love to love myself. To some it looks anti-social, but to me it’s like finding the deepest parts of your sub-conscious buried deep in a corner.

The process of loving myself is not something you’d want to see in person. It’s uncomfortable, raw, and incredibly sad a lot of the time. I might share my inner findings with the world, but that’s only because I want young women to know they are not alone. I’m not a social butterfly. I’m a girl who puts on a brave face most every day. Likely to say, you’re that person too. We all have dark rooms we like to sit in, but that doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy the light.


Izzi Marie

A good fat joke isn’t lost on me…

Relationships are tricky and for that reason, this blog post will be too. It goes without saying that was works for me would not necessarily work for you.

I am easily the size of two of my boyfriend put together. Now, when we first started dating, we received an incredible amount of unsolicited criticism based on this fact alone. This used to get under my skin continuously; since we’ve been together for over a year we’ve learned to brush this off day by day.

I believe that the fear that those kinds of people existed in the world is exactly what kept me from going after people I had feelings towards growing up. I wanted a guy who would love me in every state, even if he didn’t like me. I wanted a man who could love me with the lights on always. I wanted a person in my life that could understand when I make a fat joke about myself I was not being degrading. I just legitimately like to laugh at myself sometimes.

I found him and I am beyond grateful. Let’s get something straight, I’m not grateful that I found someone to love me, because I do believe I am lovable. I’m grateful that I found someone that doesn’t baby me. He treats me like the fat, sassy, and ambitious woman that I am. He jumps at the chance to make a joke about eating me first if a plane crashes. He’s the first to put me in check and tell me if I’m hangry and one of the few to push me to follow my dreams without question. In doing all of that, he still manages to call me beautiful every day, take the trash out, and tickle me to the point of death.

Now this isn’t a letter to partners out there to run home and start calling your loved ones fatties. There’s a delicacy to the situation, but I have made my feelings towards my own relationship with my weight very to clear to my partner. Because he grew up without the shame centered on his own weight, I encourage him to ask questions and to be open-minded with my feelings. I have also communicated that for me, I am more than okay as being described as fat. This is by no means every person.

I will not allow my fatness to be shameful a topic, especially around the people I hold near to my heart. My relationship works, because my fatness is an intimate part of conversations and feelings. It is not something I hide. I always wanted someone to love. But most importantly I wanted someone to love me for the very thing that most people can’t seem to understand. For the simple fact that my fatness does not define me, but is still an integral part of who I am.

PLUS,  He eats cake with me. What more do I need? 

XXX Izzi Marie 

Find Magic or Be It

People often ask me how I’ve become so confident and it’s always really hard for me to answer that question. I think, mostly because I question myself a lot in the choices I’ve made and if I’m good enough. That’s not necessarily in regard to my appearance, but to my life. That’s a natural and normal response to getting older, but I always laugh a little bit at the question. Aside from the obvious response of “fake it till’ you make it”; I think there is a key reason I’ve managed to accept myself enough to live in a brighter world than I did when I was thirteen. The simple answer is that I’ve always managed to surround myself with magical people.

I’m constantly amazed at the individuals willing to jump to my defense in an instant. Have I heard negativity, in regard to my size, during my lifetime? Of course. Would I say it’s a lot less than the average person growing up in my generation? Absolutely. I have to own my past and how it differs from many people I know. I think that’s only fair if I’m going to sit here and preach self-love. In fact, I’d go as far as to say the most hatred I’ve ever dealt with has been in the last two years of my life, but it touched me a lot differently. It’s been difficult, because I felt thrown into a place that I should have learned to cope with in adolescence, but instead it’s been impacting my adulthood.

That’s a story for another day. I say all this to recognize the friendships/relationships I created in my youth that saved me from a life filled with ridicule and hatred. I certainly did enough of that myself; I didn’t need any help from others.

It’s safe to say I’ve lost a lot of friends.

Some, just because it’s life and it happens.

Others, because there were fights that never healed over time.

Many I’m just not able to see as much as I’d like.

Most of who inspire me from their own confidence.

The one thing I can say, no matter how it happened, every single one of those people had my back. They each still hold a very important place in my heart, because you don’t make special memories with just anyone. They supported me and helped me feel beautiful. Above all I’m sure they kept things to themselves that could have destroyed me. While I’m not a fan of secrets, sometimes it’s important to know when a piece of information will help heal someone or continue to keep them down. I’m not a fool. I know when people talk about me and whether or not it’s malicious. I also know when my friends, past or current, are trying to keep my soul from the dark stuff. I appreciate that dearly, because it played a huge role in the person I am today.

I cannot emphasize this piece of advice enough: SURROUND YOURSELF WITH MAGIC.

It’s not hard to find and I seem to discover it around every corner. It’s in people you never thought possible and in quiet hero’s who surprise you in times of need. My social media is mostly filled with positivity. That is not an accident. It’s important that you accept the role you play in your own happiness. Most of the power is in your hands and for the rest you’re just along for the ride.

I do want to end on this note. I mentioned, ”fake it till’ you make it” earlier. That could not ring more true for me. There should always be a key element of self-satisfaction in your being, but few question the confident girl. However, they do demand answers from the one who looks like she’s questioning herself. Just keep that in mind in your every day life. Take a risk. Nine times out of ten people will applaud you for it and if they don’t at least you we’re bold enough to try. That should be plenty to sleep at night.

If it’s not? Try a piece of cake 😉


Izzi Marie

You’re allowed to have bad days.

I did a Youtube video about a million years ago.

*Side note: Yes, I have a Youtube channel. Yes, it’s an awkward time capsule of who I was for about three years. Yes, you can try to find it, but I will not help you haha.
But seriously, back to the important part. I talked about something that was significant to me, so I thought I would address it again for you here.

Let me first point out the obvious, in that, we are ALL human. We all make mistakes, have goals, dreams and ambitions. We all have great days, followed by horrible ones. I work relentlessly to love my body, and myself. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have days where I dislike myself a little. Sometimes a lot.


What that doesn’t mean, is that I cry myself to sleep every day, because I’m fat.

I don’t hate myself every day.

I don’t hate my body every day.

I know the difference, because I was that girl for a long time. I was that girl when I was 10, 12, and 13. I’m not that girl anymore. I am empowered by my body and the beautiful community that surrounds me.

What that does mean, is that sometimes I have moments or days where I’m not crazy about how everything is coming together. I dislike how my outfit looks on my body. Or that that one stupid hair won’t stick into my bun and I’m about two seconds away from lodging a tin full of bobby pins across the room. 

The idea that a bad day is solely related to my fatness, really pisses me off. You know why? Because when I’m completely in love with myself and having a great day, no one relates that at all to my fatness. This body is mine, 365 days a year – 24/7, but people don’t care about that. People only care when I’m crying about it, because it validates their viscous stereotypes. Well world, I’m not here to validate you. I’m here to validate myself.

For the beautiful people reading this right now, everyone is at a different spot in their journey.

If you’re still that 13-year-old girl with struggles. Don’t fret.
If you’re a 45-year-old woman who still struggles. Don’t worry.

I’m just here to tell you that – if you’re at the point where you are loving yourself, it is alright to have a bad day. And if you’re not there yet, those bad days will become fewer and fewer.

It’s OK.

You don’t start all over just because you need to let a few tears out.

You don’t start all over just because you don’t like how your arms look.

It’s one day.

You reset.

And if it takes you a while to get back to that healthy mindset, just use it as motivation.

It’s your story.

Don’t let them write it for you.

Instead… Just eat some cake.


Izzi Marie

You are more.

You are more than a pretty face. You are actually a whole lot more than that in general, but for the sake of argument just roll with me.

I am SO tired of people telling me that I have a “pretty face”. If you are reading this, there’s a high probability you know what context I’m referring to. The “pretty face” in relation to the “that is the only thing that is pretty about you” facial expression. Yep, that one is my favorite.

One guy actually had the audacity to tell me, “You know Izzi, I’m not really into big girls.. but like you’re pretty sexy.” BYE FELICIA. Did you really think that was going to get you in the door? I wish I had thought to tell him that I wasn’t really into assholes, but he was a particularly large one. #notbitter There’s just a certain way to go about these things and body shaming in an attempt to compliment me is not the right path.

I think it is safe to assume that anyone saying these types of things don’t mean to verbally slap you in the face. (mostly anyways.) It is actually a great teachable moment, but sometimes I don’t feel like teaching and that is ok. Tonight is an exception to that feeling.

You’re more. You can always be more, you just have to allow yourself to be.

Never settle. Love yourself more. Then find someone who loves you more.

Don’t allow yourself to be done when you think you are, because you never will be.

I used to think comments like that were harmless, but then I really took a look at how they were manifesting in me. They made my face the most important thing I had and the only thing I thought I could have. That’s not true. I am more than a pretty face. I have a beautiful body that contains my everlasting soul. You do too.

Close your eyes, breathe in deep.

Do you feel that?

That’s your essence.

THAT is who are.

Don’t let them tell you any differently.

Now go treat yoself. #cake


Izzi Marie


Self-love is messy. It starts young and dies old. It’s staring in the mirror naked, trying not to see what the world wants you to. It’s anger, frustration. It’s hysterical crying in the shower at any time. It’s counting calories and keeping track in a diary you hide, because you don’t want the cool kids to notice. It’s thoughts of self-harm. It’s ugly and it never gets easier. There will always be bad days. But there will be less of them. You get used to checking yourself, before you let your mind get ahead. It’s about recognizing what you have, before you discredit your individuality.

On a day-to-day basis I interact with countless women who shame their own bodies and poison their minds continuously. I could sit there for hours and tell them that their beautiful, but it won’t matter until they can go home and say it to themselves. I watch women cry in dressing rooms, because they’re a size fourteen and not a twelve.

But there’s a flip-side…

I watch women who are sizes twenty and up love themselves backwards and forwards. I get to see beautiful fat babes where crop tops, bathing suits, show their arms, show their legs, and show off their true self. I get to watch women fall in love with themselves, just like I did. I get inspired by women, who do things I’m still working on. They’re confident. They’re bold. They own it. They just do it, because the best person to tell you it’s ok to do something is yourself.

I cannot sit here and tell you how to love yourself, because mostly I’m still learning. But also… because everyone does it differently. Each day shape shifts into a distinctive method. Some days that means dressing up, other days it means dressing down. Some days it means cake; some days it means a salad. Sometimes it means going for a walk, sometimes it’s Netflix and chill. For the most part these days, it just means me dancing around with no pants on. I do what feels right. I do anything and everything to give my mental state a high five. Self-love never looks the same and that’s ok. That fact alone is what makes it pretty messy; you’ve got to figure it out for yourself.

I read a quote from Anthony Bourdain today, “Your body is not a temple, it’s an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.”

Self love is messy.

Self love is beautiful.

I promise you…

Self love will save your life.

(So will cake.)


Izzi Marie

Eat Cake

Every self-love journey is different, yet we all share a common goal. We are FIGHTING to love ourselves in a world that strikingly contradicts it.

I thought that this journey was near completion for me. While I knew that there would always be “those days”, I thought I loved myself enough. It’s only fair considering how far I’ve come since the ripe age of fourteen. Then again, life has changed. People have grown and the world attempts to adapt with it, no matter how many steps behind it is.

I guess my real story starts six months ago, when I randomly stumbled across the love of my life. (I promise to tell that another day, it’s a good one.) You see, it just so happens that I’m fat and he’s not. In the theme of honesty, I have to admit I didn’t understand it at first. I’ve preached for years that it doesn’t matter what someone looks like, but I still find myself staring at this beautiful man and wondering why he chose me. I’ve literally conditioned myself to be unworthy of love, even after it’s been thrown in my face.

I could write for days about all the negative and horrible commentary I’ve heard since we’ve started dating. I could tell you about my nights filled with tears and self-depreciation. However, I am fighting to change my life and in doing so I have to fight to change how this world thinks. Humans, who choose to de-value my relationship based on my body shape, will not alter me. I refuse to give into my fears that this earth is made up of bigotry and hatefulness. I already know that the world can be made of my childhood nightmares, but I also know it can be so much more.

The plus size community has shown me inspiration and thoughtfulness during my personal journey. I have been lifted on the shoulders of angels who do not know that they exist. I have learned to fight back in moments of self-doubt. I have been reminded that my actions, my words, and my life can make a difference.

I am angry that a handful of body-shaming people ever allowed me to question myself. I cannot express how much I hate predictability and this selfish hatred on the plus size community is as predictable as it gets. I don’t know about you guys, but I’d rather be a trendsetter, than a statistic.

Let’s blow their minds & let’s eat some cake while we’re at it.


Izzi Marie