Catwoman.

I'm just like her.

I spend my days napping (or thinking about napping).

I whine when I'm hungry.

I purr when someone massages me, or brushes my hair. But just as quickly, I can scratch, and sometimes I bite.

I'm selfish, at times, and I like to groom myself (especially when it comes to clothing).

It may be because I spend nearly all my spare time with said creature, even looking forward to the next time I'll get to see her. It may be because my phone is chalk full of photos of her and I purchase anything resembling her precious little face.

Whatever the reason may be, it's safe to say that I am... a cat lady.

Now I know what you're thinking: you probably imagine I'm some single recluse who lives in her hovel with fifteen cats, disheveled and witchlike, claiming that people who don't like cats are actually the crazy ones.

That is not at all how its like. I know there's this stigma that cat ladies are portrayed as lonely, often hideous loners, but I'm here to tell you that as a catwoman myself, that is not how we should be characterized. 

I may be privy to saying this, as a cat lady myself, but history actually backs me up here.

Cats have been around for quite awhile, dating back some 12,000 years ago, and across various cultures throughout time, they were often associated with being favored and glorified.

In ancient Egypt, they were associated with gods and goddesses, often mummified. In China, they were favored pets and desirous for their hunting abilities. In Japan, they're associated with good luck. Then there were the unfortunate Middle Ages, where they were killed en masse on suspicion of spreading the Black Plague (even though killing them lowered the chances of killing rodents, who were the guilty party in spreading the disease).

Let's not forget their ardent depiction in art and photography. And with that, their association with cat ladies.

There is plenty of proof out there that depict these so-called profiled unkempt cat ladies, as some of the most beautiful, stylish, and accomplished women in history.

From Audrey Hepburn, to Grace Kelly, to Colette, Eartha Kitt, Ursula Andress, and Brigitte Bardot, I'm not making things up when I say that these graceful, curious cats attract equally graceful, curious women.

Cats are not just animals. They are royalty. They are enigmatic creatures who love to be praised and always find themselves the center of attention. They emanate sensuality and dominance and they are one of the best cuddle buddies out there.

Whenever someone dubs me as a "cat lady" (which is more often than not), I simply smile and embrace the fact that I share a stage with some of the most celebrated chic cat ladies in the world.

And with that dose of cattitude, I leave you in search of my kitty.

Did I mention that Fudge, my cat, helped me pick this outfit out from a cat-alogue?

Body Outlaw.

I was watching an episode of Project Runway last night, and seeing the models this season had me feeling good in all sorts of ways.

They represented.

There were women of all shapes, sizes, and colors, a little bit of every flavor from the candy store, and I was so grateful to finally be seeing some women of diversity really rocking the runway.

Course there's still a long way to go.

What really impressed me though, aside from seeing all of these uniquely beautiful women, was that they owned their individual look. That really inspired me.

It's good timing too, because I happen to be reading a very relevant and entertaining book called Body Outlaws.

Basically, it's full of these simple tales of self-acceptance as told by writers who have come to accept themselves, "flaws" and all. What makes these women so called "outlaws" is the fact that they have come to accept their bodies for the way they are, which is uncommon in this day and age. See, it's more normal to "judge and contort ourselves, to alter oneself for admission and approval", then to actually change the standard and wrest for ourselves the self-esteem that is undeniably ours.

You'd think that after all these years of people's obsession with varying unnatural beauty standards, we would learn that happiness doesn't come from trying to conform to something that doesn't exist. Happiness comes from self-acceptance, no matter what color your skin is or what size bra you wear.

And yet year after year, we have to read about big butts, thigh gaps, curvy being in and thin being out. We continually buy into this objectification of women and their bodies, dehumanizing our view of what "perfect" entails, and yet we blame society and their standards, completely forgetting that all of this is a reflection of how we calculate a woman's worth.

It's not society's fault when you buy that ill-fitting bra from Victoria's Secret that promises sexiness. It's not society's fault when you flip through the magazine that encourages you to "get dat bubble butt." It's not society's fault that we continually fight amongst each other in order for a male's attention.

It's ours.

So how do we change it? It starts with awareness, education, and how we react to these subliminal (and obvious) messages. It starts with telling personal stories, like the brave women in Body Outlaws. It begins once you put down the magazine that makes you feel self-conscious, once you unfollow that Instagram star who's only asset is how well she photographs, and it begins once you take a stand.

Society and the media reflect what the people want and are willing to buy. If we all stop blindly following these standards, once we start speaking out about how much we love our bodies (not because they look like a supermodel's, but because they make us feel so goddamn fine) and how it's okay to celebrate who you are, inside and out, then maybe we'll see a change.

It all starts with a conversation. With the simple act of looking in the mirror and loving your body, without guilt and without comparison. Once our identities and bodies are in sync? Man, there's no stopping what we can do to change the world.