This morning, I took a picture...okay, that's a lie, I took like 8. The other 7 were just too too much for me. I settled on this one. But what is it that I see when I look at the picture:
- Fat, fat face
- 3 chins
- fat neck
- bags/dark circles under the eyes
- nostrils are crooked
- bulbous nose...you could honk that thing. If you do, be warned, I'll hit you.
- hair is frizzy
- wrinkles around eyes and I am starting to get the frown indentations that my mom had (hate that)
- zit on my chin
- did I mention a fat face (gopher cheeks)
- horrendously high forehead (look how long my bangs must be to cover the damn thing!!) I could seriously be a walking billboard with that thing...and you could probably fit more than 7 words there (hmmm, additional income idea?).
Okay...but is that reality? All of those things are true - come on, they are TRUE...just maybe not to the extent that cause me anxiety. And it is true, I will NEVER be a beauty. But to accept that I am just "okay"....long road (I keep staring at my nose - this is what happens to a button nose on a child, it grows in to an inflatable tire...it doesn't help that my upper lip seems to be shrinking too. giant nose, small upper lip...maybe I should just grow a mustache).
I had a co-worker at SJP that was very heavy...and she embraced it. She told stories about getting caught in turnstiles and having her family/husband pull her out (once at Disney) and laughed about it. She had gotten caught in booths before and found that funny. She would rub her big belly and crack jokes. On the one side, I was horrified, on the other I admired her. She was constantly taking pictures of her and her husband. She was very large at her wedding and talked about how beautiful she felt that day. I absolutely could not fathom feeling that way. I admired her for her apparent joy in herself. But I was also baffled about how she could feel that way. I couldn't understand. I couldn't grasp how she could stand in that place in her shoes. I still don't...and I still admire her. But I still don't understand.
Yet, if she was to ask me...I'd tell her she WAS beautiful and special and marvelous...because she was. She absolutely was. I still think about her often today because of how marvelous she was. I see beauty in all kinds of people...in all shapes...in all variations. It isn't that I would want the world to be a certain look or way...that would take all the color and fabulous-ness out of life. I love the variety in which people express themselves and present themselves. My issue with me...always has been...always will be is weight - MY weight...not others. I can see a heavy person, or a friend who is heavy and absolutely see the beauty that is theirs...outside and in. I would absolutely encourage them to embrace that beauty and glorify in it. As it is theirs intrinsically. But on the flip side, I can NOT do that. And if they were to do it....internally...in my secret head...I wouldn't understand how. I would applaud and admire them for it...but I wouldn't understand how they do it and not look at themselves and judge. I don't know how they hold on to that - worse than a slippery eel. And I do understand how perverse and condescending that is. How judgmental that is of me...I do get that. I do not like that within me...but it is the reality...if I am being absolutely honest and real.
I was brought up that vanity was wrong...others compliment you, you do NOT compliment yourself. But I was also brought up to believe that I (myself, me) was not deserving of the compliments, I was too fat, too "bad", too whatever, I didn't deserve. I was the "smart one", which I'm proud of. I was too fat to be pretty, too fat to EVER find someone to love me. My whole family remembers me at the fat kid. Here is the fat kid:
..."perception", remember?
I look at childhood photos...I wasn't a "fat" kid. But I remember myself as so...and I GUARANTEE my family remembers it as so. But if I look at pictures...I wasn't. I grew into a fat teenager, and a fat adult. But I wasn't a fat kid. My mom was fed up with me being fat and put me on Weight Watchers when I was 11 to lose the weight (I was 6 in the first pic, about 9-10 on the 2nd). I remember her sitting at the kitchen table talking to her friend about it...how I was so fat, it was embarrassing, and it was only going to get worse and shopping for me was sooooo terrible. She just HAD to get me on a diet. I lost a total of 20 pounds over 1.5 years to get to my "goal". I also grew about 3 inches and became a teenager. Was I chubby...yes...but aren't most adolescents?
Oh poo...but that was then. I am responsible for myself now. It is just this perception thing. What is real...what is echt...what is right...what is wrong...how should I feel...how should I not feel. How do I quit highlighting the negatives - but them in 72 point type/bold, and let them slide back and accept what is left. Accept and be "okay" with what is left. How do I say this is "me"...and I'm okay with that? Zit and all. By the way, look at the pictures above. I was a cute kid. I mean seriously...look at this baby pic...CUTE kid. What the hell happened?
Perception...learned perception...perceived perception...Perception perception.
Meaning what you think is there...what you believe is there...and what IS there. Perception in this instance is a rabid fungus growing within my life and eating away parts that I can not recapture...namely - time, moments, events and...sigh...self -blah (I am struggling what to put after this word "self"...I'm completely uncomfortable with "worth," "acceptance"...don't even say "love"...maybe "care" is a good word. Don't know...) but an "okay" sense of self.
I was a cute kid...and my titties are showing...don't look!! Pervert.
Long road...
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