Giving All The Fucks In The World

Not giving a fuck.

It’s the phase that badass rap dreams are made of.

It’s the epitome of what society should be aiming for.

It’s a motto for how to live your life.

Apparently, it’s life changing to not give a fuck.

And it’s just been drawn to my attention that even though I’ve got a reputation for not giving fuck, I’m here to tell you this:

I give a fuck.

Sure, I gave the finger to the corporate life and started my own business that swears on just about everything, which for many can constitute as not giving a fuck.

But I give fucks.

I give a lot of a fucks.

I give so many fucks about my man.

I give so many fucks about my family.

I give so many fucks about my business.

I give so many fucks about my writing.

I give so many fucks about my puppy dogs.

I give so many fucks about my body, and why the fuck it doesn’t look like a super model yet.

I give so many fucks about a lot of things.

So, what does this say about me?

The happy-go-lucky, carefree woman who’s writing this bra-less at her laptop at 10am on a Monday instead of working?

It says that I care.

And I’m more than okay with caring.

But going around saying that I care just ain’t that cool, right?

It’s not as unfuckwithable. It’s not as badass. It’s not as <insert the catchphrase of the week here>.

But it’s the truth.

The truth is I’m a care bear (who’s also a swear bear).

Or maybe I’m just a bear.

Anyways, I haven’t always proudly claimed I’m a care bear.

I wore the ‘I don’t give a fuck’ badge multiple times, across multiple situations in an attempt to manage my expectations and ya know what?

Not giving a fuck sucks.

The only person I was fooling was myself.

When I try to not give a fuck, I disassociate from my truth.

The truth being, I care.

It’s no secret that as a 30 Something with a size 14 bod, I give a fuck about wanting to get trimmer, fitter, thinner, stronger and all the acronyms associated with loosing weight.

My mode of apparatus in an attempt to get there has either been to berate myself so much into eating only the meats, because Paleo, and working out twice a day, because gym bunny’s look good, that the only viable option apart from becoming a drill sergeant on myself was to just not give a fuck about my body anymore.

Ya know? Throw caution to the wind. Eat all the fries.

Because, giving a fuck about something was causing me so much heartache.

But what really happened was those fries just didn’t taste as good as usual.

Isn’t life supposed to be better when you stop giving a fuck?

Taste sweeter?

Apparently, for a care bear, it doesn’t.

Not giving a fuck caused me even more heartache.

I bottled up caring about my body and stuffed it deep down inside myself, pretending I didn’t give a fuck.

Instead of magically not giving a fuck, I felt worse about it then ever before.

Because deep inside, I cared.

I give so many fucks about my body.

The thing that was missing in all of this was the method.

Because ya know what caring is?


Loving is caring.

Giving a fuck is loving.

When I give a fuck about my body, I love it. I care for it. I look after it. I see it. I hold it. I’m fighting for it.

Isn’t it time you let yourself give a fuck about something you love?