Another bullshit fad going around the Internets has my middle finger twitching like a mother fucker. 

If you can stack this roll of coins on your collarbone, congratulations! You, your thigh gap and your bony-ass hipbones have won life and are qualified to enter for a trip to Eating Disorder Land or Self-Loathing Landing. Both places are so special, you’ll never want to leave.” 

It seems to me that I’m not the only one who is sick of letting the magical forces of media dictate the standards of beauty. Women everywhere are fighting back and rejecting the notion that skinny people with coins on their necks have a monopoly on beauty. It is amazing. 

This collarbone thing? Give me a fucking break. What bored 19-year-old came up with this shit? Clearly it was someone who hasn’t had babies yet or we’d be seeing photos of coin rolls wrapped up like a burrito in wrinkled belly flesh. Coin roll my ass.   

With all of the people raging against the machine, I remain deathly afraid to let my fat roll spring free at the pool. Like a flag flapping in the wind, exposed jelly belly signifies the joining of the fat roll army; a soldier who will not be shamed for their god given body. 

Watch as the fat roll army takes on the coin roll craze.

This body has survived and endured an eating disorder for 20 years and counting, and don’t forget those giant 9 pound babies I grew, birthed and nurtured with MY OWN FUCKING BODY. My altered body should be worshipped and celebrated for the 2 magnificent beings I brought into this world. Where is my goddamn acclaim? 

Just to clear things up, I’m not up on some high horse, thinking I deserve to be happy no, I’m not that stupid. They tell me I can’t have that- not until I’ve eradicated the fat roll, obliterated the cellulite and cross-fitted my way into a body covered in tan and toned flesh. 

Believe me when I say, I’m not happy about this fat roll of mine. In fact, I have an intense self-loathing when it comes to my body. I’ve tried to think my way out of it, pray my way out of it and now I’m in therapy for an eating disorder.

I’m 39 fucking years old – shouldn’t I be over this shit?

Shouldn’t I be basking in the glory of self-acceptance that comes for middle-aged women?

I hate my fat rolls and I hate myself. They tell me I can’t have happiness, and I’ve bought in. 

I have a fat roll. I will always have a fat roll. The world, the they, tell me I’m less than, I’m gross, I’m unfit to be seen in public. They say I’m a goddamn shame and to stop taking up valuable space. 

Fuck that. Fuck that so hard. 

I’m tired of wilting and dying each day for the sake of something subjective.

I’m ready to fight. 

Enter The Fat Roll Army; people who are trying to love themselves despite having what our culture views as disgusting, loathsome and unacceptable. 

Shame is a nasty thing, and I carry it in me like a chronic disease. I’ve come at it from many angles and for the love of god, it won’t budge. 

I’m calling on The Village. I’m taking my fat roll to the masses and building a tribe.

The collective power of like-minded people is what changes the world, and this is about so much more than fat rolls, my friends. This is about the war that is waged on the bodies of women every fucking day of our lives. Sure, we can ignore it, but what happens when in 20 years, I look around and I’m the only one who actually looks 60? Will I be secure in the fact that I’m a good person who deserves a place in this world, or will I succumb to the pressures and take to the knife and the needle? 

Are you with me? 

Joining is simple. Initiation happens each Friday at Totally Inappropriate Mom, where we post glorious photos of our fat rolls in a place that celebrates each body. 

Consider Fat Roll Friday independence day for the imperfect. Freedom from the fabricated standards of beauty, freedom from the shame of fat rolls, cellulite and wrinkles. A big fat middle fucking finger to the people, the “They’s” who perpetuate these impossible “shoulds” for all of us. 

My fat roll is my middle finger. I’m posting my picture with pride, regardless of my own self-loathing because I know the army will join me. I’ve tried for years to get this hate gone and out of my head but it’s stuck and so I take it out into the world and put it in your hands. I don’t know what will happen, but my hope is to generate love and kindness for myself and all of the other fat roll-wielding warriors out there. 

So join me, big or small, fat or skinny or somewhere in between. You deserve to be loved. May we find the beauty in all by seeing past the body and into the souls of our fellows. 

Love to all of you. 

Jill, aka

Totally Inappropriate Mom


Jill is a seeker, writer and blurter of truth. She is a top-notch Vagina Evangelist, wife to a hoarder of camping gear and mother to 2 girls, 2 dogs and a cat who's been perilously close to death for several years now. From wildly comedic to tear-dripping serious, you can find her stories on her blog, Totally Inappropriate Mom, where her 'life-uncensored' philosophy, naughty humor and general inappropriateness run the show.


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