I want to preface this blog by saying I was encouraged to write this to speak out against the unfortunate incident that occurred last night. I’m not looking for compliments, or sympathy… I just want others to know to stand up to their bully and break the vicious circle.

I’ve been in the hospitality/entertainment industry since 1995, I’ve seen it all, I’ve worked it all, and for the most part I’ve had a blast, with minor pitfalls along the way…

My claim to fame and subsequently shame, has been my voluptuous frame and my infectious charisma! People either love it, or they loathe it.

Last night, I was having a fantastic time at work, the vibe was great, the music was kickin’ and it was great to be back after the Chrissy holidaze and partying with “the Sunday crew”.

I, unfortunately have a bad habit that I’ve been trying to kick like a toxic ex, but when I’m stressed – I always go back. So I ducked out for a quick ciggie break, and since it was pissin’ buckets I opted to go on the other side of our neighbor bar to stay out of the rain rather then the usual social spot outside of 7 Eleven.

Alone, I was ready to get my fix on before the nic fit kicked in, and just as I lit up -a drunken bloke stumbled out the side of the bar. He almost stumbled right into me, but stopped as abruptly as an inebriated caveman and 1000 mile starred at me, I wasn’t able to get the twats name but the convo started like this:

Twat: Oh sorry. Do you work around here?

Me: Yep, next door at 1two3

Twat: What like behind the scenes?

Me: Nope I bartend.

Twat: (shakes head) That’s a bit ridiculous, you must not get many customers then.

Me: Why’s that?

Twat: Because you’re fat. Look at you, you’re a disgusting, fat, sweaty pig. You’re too fat and ugly to bartend in the Gold Coast don’t you think? Just look at how ugly your face is!

Me: (Mentally planning how to break a limb) *blink blink* Exxxxcuse me?

Twat: You heard me, why don’t you exercise or try eating healthy instead of Macca’s.

Me: Well those are a lot of assumptions for someone who doesn’t even know my name. You can stop talking now. Thanks. ( I walk to the opposite corner and turn my back to him)

Twat: LOOK at you, you have a wide, gross, fat ass too – it’s so gross I can see it’s lumpy from here!

Me: (rushing over venomously) Listen to me very closely… you. stupid. little. boy. You have no clue about me, my physical state or my regimes. How do you know I don’t have cancer? How do you know I didn’t just have a baby? Or what if I have another pre-existing medical condition? You have no idea how old I am either, so before you throw stones, look in the mirror and see who’s really ugly! Because everyday – I look in the mirror – I know exactly who I am, and I don’t need you to tell me what you “think” you see. (storm off)

Twat: (calling after me) You’re just a fat, ugly, disgusting sweaty pig! Go back to the farm piggy!

Me: (whipping around) Well, it’s not my fault your dicks’ so small you need tweezers to masturbate, maybe if you had at least some gurth you wouldn’t hate your life so much… oh and at least I CAN loose weight – if I wanted to.

Twat: – you’re sooooooooo disgusting… yep just walk away you’re asses jiggling is going to cause an earth quake!!!

(I know you’re probably thinking I had an encounter with Mel Gibson, but alas it was not).

Knowing fully that there’s no point in arguing with a belligerent-protein-powdered-crank-a-wank-drunken-re-tard, I decided to “get even” rather then resort to physical violence. (Damn Kung Fu code of ethics)

So I marched into the bar next door and explained to the bartender there that they should cut off the twat, because if he’s going to say I’m too fat and disgustingly ugly to bartend in Broady, he should at least be able to do it without slurring. Being the good neighbors that the bar next door is, they came in 30mins later and informed me that this guy has been a problem for them the past 6months and they “took care of him” and he was asked to leave. Ha! Take that!

Unfortunately anyone who’s EVER been put down because of ANY physical attribute be it their weight, fat or thin, or having a big nose, or looking old, or flat chested or overly chested, Cankles, Prawn Heads… etc. The aftermath is usually worse. Not only is it terrible to be humiliated in public, its the ghost echo of the dagger words that rip you apart in the end.

I have to admit I ducked out because I knocked off early and was on the precipice of a anger attack. Bloody hell, I was NOT going to let this ruin my night. It did. Bloody hell I was not going to loose sleep over his negativity and hate. But I did. I posted a heated warning on my Facebook last night because I was determined to speak out for everyone who’s ever wanted to and just couldn’t. And I did.

Since the tender impressionable age of 6, I’ve been constantly reminded of my weight or my looks. My family, my bestfriends, people I went to school with, people I’ve performed with, have ALL commented at one time or another on my weight or my face.

- “Don’t worry – You’ll be prettier when you’re older.”

- “You look great now, you used to be such a big cuddly bear!”

- ” You have a really pretty face, but… ”

- “Maybe if she stopped wearing so much makeup, and lost some weight she could get a boyfriend”.

- “You know Stace would be an absolute knockout if she lost 20lbs”.

-”You’re too fat to play the lead, too skinny to be the bestfriend and you have too much of a pretty face to be the best friend, come back when you get down to a size 7″.

- “You aren’t fat enough to tell fat jokes, even if the guy(s) you were dating “really” did say: he likes fat chicks because they’re better in bed/he wants to squish your jelly/he’ll dump you if you’re thighs get any bigger/he wanted to ride your meaty snail.”

- “You know maybe you should take the stairs at work instead of the elevator, it could really do you some good”.

- “You’re so fat now I can’t even get my arms around you to hug you, I don’t want to touch you let alone look at you.”

-”Stace can you put this on for me? I want to stretch this out a bit before I wear it”.

- “Look mate, she’s big as!”

You get the point. Twat wasn’t the first to ever say anything to me and he won’t be the last either. If those closest to me couldn’t destroy any shred of self confidence I have, Twat won’t be able to either! Funny thing, I do work out – quite a bit actually, and I rarely eat processed foods, dairy, or red meat because I do have medical issues. Regardless…

What’s my secret weapon against the negative voices?

Well,  I used to work for a catering company 4 yrs ago, I was put on head bar at a High Profile Famous Designer Fashion show, can’t say which one but the name starts with “C”.

A very fragile looking woman (in her late 50′s I’d guess) with a regal posh accent, drapped in a crisp, classic, black cocktail dress with over-sized antique looking pearls, accompanied by shorter over tanned man with brown puffy hair, in a sleek suit kept frequenting my bar.

They pretentiously purred that my dirty gin martini’s were the only palpable ones being served . The “dragon lady” as I dubbed her, had been terrorizing everyone elses’ bar stations and I found it amusing that I escaped the wrath, not really overly grateful for my vermouth anti- venom. So just to see what she’d do, I was bored and curious so instead of keeping the bottles under the bar like they requested I put them on display. Martini in hand, she swiftly floated over, as though she had bar- bottle- radar, with her brown- haired , suited companion in tow she simply said this:

“My dear, much like you were personally selected to be on this bar, I’ve also selected to not have the bottles on display. I want everything to be pre-tty. Do you understand?” She then turned to her friend and said “Don’t you think she has the most unique jaw line and face structure”. He turned to me, warmly smiled and said “Yes she does doesn’t she, (pause) she does have absolutely stunning features, what’s your name? (Stacey) Thank-you Stacey.” He smoothly took my hand, winked, and slipped me a tip on the sly, unbeknownst to dragonella.

It wasn’t till months later I was watching The Devil Wears Prada in the theatre, and I saw the man from the fashion show on the screen! I eagerly waited while the credits scrolled dying to know who this mystery man was! Again I can’t name names, but the man is a legendary Italian designer! For more years then I’ve been alive, this man has been surrounded by the most gorgeous, elite women all over the world….

He told me I was stunning.

While this blog is meatier then the others (pun intended) I get that 10 people can compliment you endlessly but it takes 1 shlub to say: you’re too fat, you’re too skinny, you’re too flat, you’re thighs are enormous, you have a massively large nose, you look like a man, you look old for your age – and that’s what’ll stick. I get it, because I’ve lived it. But I’m telling you – stop doing that to yourself. Don’t carry the baggage that someone else decides to dump on you. It’s NOT worth it. YOU are worth more then that.

After reading my story, I hope you know that it really does ONLY take 1 voice to make a difference.

You’re own.

Famous designers are a huge compliment, but at the end of the day, you’re the one who’s going to have to keep looking in the mirror for the rest of your life.

Speak out, and expect respect. If you earned it. You deserve it.