Kesha went to the beach, and you know how it goes when you go to the beach. You’re relaxed. Renewed. Covered in sand. But sand is very good for the skin, and as it turns out, the soul. It was on the beach yesterday that the singer found her fuck-it spirit, enough to post a photo of herself, topless, middle fingers raised to the haters. (Or maybe it was to the setting sun, maybe she was like, Good riddance, sun, which also happens to be the lesser-known companion book to Goodnight Moon.)
[sc-embed-instagram url=”https://www.instagram.com/p/BFb82Eeu1VM”; align=”center”]
Most likely, though, she was speaking to the body shamers she’s more specifically addressed on social media recently, posting captions like “byeeeeeeee haters and body shamers” and “not a slave to perfection right now.” Yesterday, she was a little less direct, but the most hopeful yet.
“I have been battling depression and an eating disorder for a while now,” she wrote on Instagram. “My career is in a strange place and it feels like I’m fighting an uphill fight some days. But I have decided to take my life back. My freedom. My happiness. My voice. My worth. I will not just fucking be quiet and hide. Today I will say fuck it and live.”
This Instagram followed a series of what one can only assume are post-beach selfies. In them, the singer’s topless with perfectly tossed hair, proving what we’ve known all along. The beach is the answer to all our problems.
ncG1vNJzZmirpK65pq%2FArKueql6YvK57xKernqqklravucSnq2iblaGyo77IrbBmppWswHCBlWtnbG5foLK0tMBmmaicqWLAqa3MnqmsZZmjwLWtxquYpmc%3D