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Heather B Armstrong, who owned the blog Dooce, died by suicide yesterday. If you’re one of the handful of people left who still read my blog, then this name probably rings a bell. Heather became infamous when she was fired for writing about her job in her blog, which she then turned into a lucrative career.

I personally never read much of her work, but her name was well-known, and people who I know from forum and blogging spheres from 20 or so years ago have commented how Heather’s honesty about depression helped them speak up about their own. Her influence is undeniable.

Heather was arguably the first mommy blogger–well before anyone used that term and years before I found myself seemingly at odds with mommy bloggers when I owned the review blog. I was so tired of being lumped in with mommy bloggers because I was also a young woman who reviewed things. It irked me to no end because sometimes emails from brands or PR managers addressed mommy bloggers specifically, ignoring people like me who had neither children nor aspirations to have them.

At the time, I took most of my ire out on the mommy bloggers, instead of the companies who deserved to be called out for their misogyny, for upholding the part of society that only sees value in women who bear children. My internalized misogyny reared its ugly head when I directed my other frustration at mommy bloggers; I was far from calling myself a feminist at that point (and they were, in some respects, my competition).

Of course, it only made sense that mommy bloggers were the burgeoning genre du jour: many of them were young women like myself who dedicated time to creating, designing, and posting in their blogs. They simply continued to do so after they had children. Some of them simply found a new way to advertise themselves when they saw the potential for free goods or paid posts!

In retrospect, perhaps some of these people marketed themselves as mommy bloggers–or defined themselves as mothers–because that was the only way they could make a niche for themselves as women in this world. They, too, struggled under the oppression that has tried to keep me down. Perhaps I was jealous because they formed brands and discovered niches in a way that I never could. I had too many interests to pin down, and while that might make someone interesting as a friend, it wasn’t easily marketable, at least not by me at that time.

I was a fairly active review blogger for a few years, but the self-promotion was excruciating. I didn’t make much headway because I never wanted it to be more than a hobby. Those who took it seriously as a career, people like Heather, achieved more success. The last few years of the review blog had little more than a post a year, even if people in my everyday life assumed it was still active. Instagram and other social media were the new fad, and I wasn’t interested in joining–and still haven’t. I wanted my content to be about my words (ignore the lack of posting on this blog, plz).

Although I haven’t owned the domain for my review blog for over a year (or is it 2 or 3??), I still find some of these mommy bloggers in my social media feeds. Most of them have walked away from this type of blogging like I have, perhaps because they were also burned out by it. Others have changed their brand or niche., More often than not, I delete these pages from my life forever. They were only ever tangentially related, anyway.

But still, as it often happens when something encourages introspection, I feel the need to apologize. Even if I didn’t cause real harm. Even if the people I felt frustrated with didn’t even know who I am. I will never achieve the influence of Dooce as a blogger, but that doesn’t mean I don’t impact others, that my existence doesn’t send ripples out in the world. Let’s all take the opportunities to consider our impact when they arise–and be glad for those who have impacted us.

As a woman who is fat, I find myself at the intersection of a certain type of commentary. Those things make me visible, as does the fact that I walk a few miles every day. “Day” seems like a misnomer considering that I’ve avoided being outside when the sun was up this summer. It’s been ridiculously humid, so I only crawl out of my hobbit hole after midnight when it’s slightly cooler and no one can see the sweat dripping down my face.

Today was the first day where it was not so humid, and I made good use of it. I walked for a few groceries, played Pokemon with friends, and took a walk along the river walk for a total of 6.6 miles. Decent. Not the 10 miles I was getting a day a few years ago, but it’s been difficult to get back to where I want to be, but that’s more than most can say.

I guarantee that I worked harder today than the group of people who were sitting in their yard when I walked by, the group of people that contained one person who decided to yell in my direction (unknown to me because I was listening to a podcast) and a whole slew of people who continued to yell at me as I walked past. At some point, it became loud enough for me to hear over my earbuds, even though I had passed the yard.

At the point when it became clear that men and women were yelling at me to stop ignoring them and ‘give my number to him,’ I realized someone had catcalled me without me realizing and all their friends joined in.

Except to call it catcalling is not quite right. I knew there had to be a name for what I experience specifically as a fat woman, and I was right, there is: fatcalling.

See, sometimes people catcall me. Sometimes people are interested. I have been thin enough to”earn” that. But I have been otherwise. That’s where I am now.

Fatcalling differs from catcalling in that it’s not genuine. There’s an implication that the fatcall isn’t intended to be complimentary (as if catcalling really is, anyway). It’s intended to denigrate because the recipient is not considered conventionally attractive and does not deserve attention. It’s a farce designed to remind us — me — of that, and to make us — me — feel bad about my body. You cannot, even if you were inclined, respond to a fatcall as though it were a catcall. You’re not worthy of even being objectified in that way, and you’re supposed to know it. The fatcall is just a reminder.

I’ve been fatcalled more than one and, sadly, more than once by a group of people that included men and women. I would never engage in behavior like this as a teenager let alone an adult. It makes me sad to think about the world and the people who inhabit it.

It’s a sad world when you’d rather receive a catcall than deal with how people actually behave toward you.

Rest assured that I do not think of catcalls as positive. They’re harassment in every way. Yet they somehow seem preferable to fatcalls.

Both are rooted in misogyny and harassing fat and thin women differently just further divides us. Of course, that’s the point. Women are stronger together, so division is their tactic to weaken us, to paint women as the ‘enemy’ rather than misogyny or the patriarchy.

I won’t be distracted. I’ve got focus. Hell, I’m so focused I might not even notice when a person fatcalls me. That doesn’t mean they should, anyway. I deserve more respect. Hell, they should respect themselves more. If they weren’t so busy fatcalling, they might be able to learn that lesson from me.

Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about things that I enjoy and how they’re problematic in some way. Typically, this means the music I listen to and messages that may be racist or sexist, but those certainly aren’t the only mediums or messages that are problematic. I probably just notice it in music more because IO am almost always listening to music.’

For example, I love the beat of the new Nick Jonas song “Jealous,” but the lyrics are fucking terrible as he sings about his right to be jealous of his beautiful girlfriend and to act “hellish” because of it. While Nick plays it like it’s normal, Meg Myers has no qualm about talking about her obsessive desires are pretty far out there. I just discover Meg and both “Monster” and “Desire” are like this. They’re fantastic songs, though!

Another song that I can’t help but dance along to is “All About the Bass.” Megan Trainor has landed on the scene in a big way, and her leading anthem about how the boys love her(and dislike thin women for their lack there of) for her curves just rubs me wrong. It’s not body positive to call a slender people “skinny bitches” no matter how she might follow it up with a quip about how they’re beautiful. It just doesn’t come off as genuine.

I checked out a few more Megan Trainor songs, and I have to say her writing skills — or at least her choice in lyrics as a whole — tend to be problematic. She focuses so single-mindedly on “finding and keeping a man who will treat her like a lady and pay for her lavish lifestyle. She’s fallen prey to a society who says she is only worth something as long as she is useful (read: owned by) a man, and it just makes me.. sad. Because she seems like she’s HGH pretty fuckin’ awesome. She doesn’t necessarily have to be a feminist fighter, but there’s so much more to life and music than what she’s chosen thus far. In fact, I think that Mary Lambert does a great job of this!

Before I wrap up this post, I’ll talk about everyone’s favorite love-to-hate singer and songwriter: Taylor Swift. Taylor recently release a fun pop anthem titled “Shake It Off.” I cannot help but get up and dance when I hear it. The beat is amazing, and it might be causing me to lose weight — kidding, though! I can’t believe it only has 1 million views.

But “Shake It Off” has been on the receiving end of a lot of flack. Perhaps most notable is the idea that the video combines one part definite cultural appropriation and perhaps another part racism, depending on how you view it, thanks to concepts that are reminiscent of ye olde minstrel shows.

I also have a bone to pick with the lyrics, which suddenly show Taylor demanding her right to have fun (and potentially sex) with whoever she wants. This in and of itself isn’t problematic. You get it, girl! But she has spent much of her career slut shaming the other girls for being to promiscuous. The sudden change could perhaps be in relation to her growing up. Taylor has even recently has explained how she has come to realize what feminism is and wishes she had understood early so she could have sooner called herself a feminist.

I think there’s two overreaching thoughts here. I still enjoy these things despite their problems. Critical thinking about music and other things we so passively enjoy is an important part of growth. Secondly, even people and creators who have been problematic are starting to see the fact and coming around to the other side, which is kind of inspiring.

For a while, I’ve jokingly talked about an analogy that sex (and masturbation) and video games are pretty similar. As I was thinking about it tonight, I became more convinced of my rightness. Grammar FTW. So I decided to sit down and blog about it because, you know, funnies.

In an effort to make this awesome, I asked a friend for ideas. This is the ensuing conversation?

“What makes video games and sex alike”

“I’m usually just playing with myself?”

So that’s a thing, FYI.

How Sex and Video Games Are Alike 

• Sometimes you just want to watch someone else play.
• They’re both better when you make noise.
• It sometimes takes longer than it should to finish.
• But, sometimes, you finish and wonder what the hell just happened.
• You blunder through it your first time and hope you’re doing it right.
• It’s all about finding the right angle.
• Your hand can cramp up after a while.
• You often forget to stop to eat or drink.
• Sometimes you look ridiculous doing it.
• The  Internet is fully of videos of it.
• Sometimes you just know you’re not going  to finish.
• The world likes to view  both as a man’s world — and double standards run rampant in both cultures.
• Men are constantly creating fantasies in both, and these fantasies typically revolve around unrealistic portrayals of women.
• Sometimes you just need to stop and shower.

And the most important reason that sex and videos are alike: they’re both better when I play with you. ;)