Slide 1: 2025 Marathon medals. Slide 2: 2025 Powerlifting medals. Slide 3: A heaux ssa 🥷 with Wi-Fi and audacity. Let’s be crystal fucking clear in 2026: Fat people do not owe you proof of worth. We do not owe you labs. We do not owe you a “before and after.” We do not owe you suffering, shrinkage, or silence. My body is not a group project. My health is not public curriculum. And your opinion is not a medical credential. You see medals — I see discipline, recovery, training blocks, early alarms, chronic pain management, rest days I fought guilt through, and a body that has carried me through miles AND meets. And to the troll who said I “look unhealthy giving advice” — shut your 🐕 ass up. Whatever unresolved shit you’re projecting? Take that to your mama, your daddy, your diary, preferably, a licensed therapist with an action plan for your male loneliness projecting BS. I am not your trauma dumpster. I am not your teachable moment. And I damn sure am not here to perform respectability politics for anyone. Stop proving yourself to people who benefit from misunderstanding you. Stop explaining your body to people committed to hating it. Stop showing your work to motherfuckers who wouldn’t pass the class with a cheat sheet and their uncle as the teacher. I run marathons. I lift heavy. I take up space. You wait for your mommy to cut the crust off the end of the bread. You harass women in comment sections to make your tinky winky wiggle. We💅🏾 are💪🏾 not ✋🏾 the 🏋🏾‍♀️ same 🥲 And if that bothers you? Run to the bodega, buy a bag of pistachios and suck on deesnuts. I’m not going back and forth with folks on the internet 24/7/365 1/4 but if you disrupt my peace, I’ll pull out a white washcloth to humble you. Photo: @ESnellDesign