Confession: I’m Shallow

So, I lied.

My psychiatrist, therapist, and I (more they than I) have figured out that I’m a dirty rotten liar.

I lied about that time I told you I dig my chub.

Well, no, that’s not completely true either. I do dig it, in ways. Like:

  • I have a butt now. It used to be flat, now it’s not, and that’s awesome.
  • I’m curvy. I like it.
  • My legs aren’t chicken legs anymore.
  • I get to eat whatever I want and still be hot. Because I am hot.
  • I never cared much for the thigh gap — I’m proud to have thighs.
  • My boobs are huge.

But also . . .

  • When I smile I have a double chin and I hate it.
  • My boobs are too saggy.
  • I look pregnant. I am not pregnant. I should not look pregnant.
  • My arms aren’t sticks like they used to be. I’m not fond of that.
  • I have a muffin top. I even had a dream about some guy telling me I have a muffin top.
  • My calves jiggle.

It turns out I’m just as insecure as the next person.

good-bad

*  *  *  *  *

When I was a teenager my mother and I used to compete over who weighed less.

I went through anorexic periods twice. Once in middle school and once when I was 19.

[I say anorexic periods because I didn’t eat but one small salad a day, at most. But I never felt like I struggled with it, so I don’t want to offend anyone who does, either.]

I put out a sense of arrogance that’s somewhat justified, because I still think I’m awesome. But I also think I’m not so awesome.

Confused? Yeah, so am I. But in order to get over my insecurities I have to pull them all to the surface because it turns out I don’t even know what the hell they are, what with my half-fake arrogance covering them up and all. So I decided to write about it.

*  *  *  *  *

I think I’ve always had a problem with my weight. Since as long as I can remember I’ve been most attracted to the drug addict skinny look. Which also probably has a lot to do with my love for drugs, but I think mainly stems from my desire to look like that.

But I adore boobs, so I don’t want to be flat-chested like that.

And that’s what the media and the liposuction and diet pill and photoshop and makeup companies all want me to want, right?

Society has fucked me up, just like the rest of you. So don’t feel bad — I’m right there with you. I hate myself.

small-big

*  *  *  *  *

I’ve been blessed with giant knockers. They’re bouncy and voluptuous and gorgeous.

I’ve been cursed with giant knockers. They started sagging before 10th grade and my areolas are fucking huge.

I’ve been blessed with a small behind. I have no cellulite, I don’t bump into things, no one comments on my jiggle because I have no jiggle.

I’ve been cursed with a small behind. I have no jiggle. There’s nothing to grab. It’s flat and people make fun of it. Someone once called it mediocre.

I’ve been blessed with a small frame. My whole family is small. I’ve never been classified as overweight. I’m petite, and all my male friends have no problem picking me up.

I’ve been cursed with roundness. I’m small, but I’m round. My face is round. My stomach is round. My thighs are round. My boobs are too round. When I gain weight, it goes straight to my stomach and I always, always have a gut.

I could go on like this forever.

*  *  *  *  *

And yet I refuse to diet and I refuse to exercise and I’d rather stuff my face with bacon and tell you I’m okay with it than actually be okay with it. Because, I think, it’s not really the true me who has a problem with any of these things. It’s the media and the beauty companies.

Everything in my Fries Before Guys (and Girls) post still stands because we all should still love ourselves and society shouldn’t tell us we’re not good enough.

We are good enough.

whatever

*  *  *  *  *

So maybe I’ll start running (can smokers run?) and maybe I’ll eat half a pint of ice cream instead of a whole one, or maybe I’ll have that extra piece of bacon and lie in bed all day. Either way, I am good enough. I just have to learn how to believe that.

This is the first step: I am beautiful and I am good enough.

 

*  *  *  *  *


What do you hate most about your body? Now what do you LOVE most?
Do you have any truths you’d like to share? Let me know!


This post is part of The Confessional. To make your own confession, click here!


 

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36 thoughts on “Confession: I’m Shallow

  1. That third picture down where you son is looking at you says it all! It may be cliched (and is certainly annoying to hear!) but beauty is most definitely in the eye of the beholder. Now if I could just believe that a little too… A great post that really resonates with me. Thank you x

    Liked by 3 people

  2. I don’t believe loving parts of your body make you shallow. I have a love/hate relationship with my body as well. Pregnancy made my boobs go from an A cup to a B. Love them, only they’re covered in stretch marks. My belly? I’m 2 months postpartum and still look 8 months pregnant. Hate it. But I have been blessed with a big butt always, only I’m covered in cellulite there. I, too, have had issues with my mom and my weight. She never meant to hurt me, but she used to throw comments at me here and there as a teen. I developed an eating disorder around 18 years old, and it really took off in my early 20’s. I’m trying so hard to just eat healthy to shed some weight, but then again I really, really like crap junk food. It blows. My husband and I are both 5ft 6in tall and I’m about 70lbs more than him. He can eat a house and still be a bean pole and I totally resent him for that (and he kind of knows it). Ok I’m rambling, sorry. Just know I enjoyed your post, and I hope you know you aren’t alone in this!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I love this line: ‘But in order to get over my insecurities I have to pull them all to the surface’ and it’s great that you do it so honestly and with such a sense of humour:) I live the pics with you daughter :) and whoever sees you in your underwear loves you the way you are. Who cares about the rest?

    Liked by 2 people

  4. I agree with Lucciagray, the way you highlight both the love and hate of your body is a great way to talk about the topic. As for me, I’m pretty flat all over, which I both love AND hate, of course. When I gain weight, it’s only around my middle, so then I have no waist, and a tummy that is bigger than my boobs or butt. Despite having worn dresses only about 20 times in my whole life, I started buying dresses on eBay a couple of years ago and have found a style that is fairly flattering to most shapes, including the perpetually shapeless: the wrap dress. Now I wear about one a week, when I feel good, and they make me feel,good, too. :)

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you! And thanks for sharing your story=]

      All my weight goes directly to my middle, too. Everyone compliments me on my body and I’m like “No, you don’t understand — I just know what to wear to make it look good.” Haha

      Liked by 1 person

  5. “Everything in my Fries Before Guys (and Girls) post still stands because we all should still love ourselves and society shouldn’t tell us we’re not good enough.

    We are good enough.”

    Can’t agree more!
    And here are my answers to your questions. My pregnancy destroyed my body, and I’m as big as I’ve ever been. My face is asymetrical, and it’s a pain when applying makeup, and I have to tilt my head a little when photos of me are taken so it’s less visible. But I don’t let it bother me anymore. Spent too long trying to diet and failing miserably, mood-wise I’m much better now that I don’t try anymore. And being happy is much more important than being skinny, in my opinion.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you so much!

      I know exactly how you feel — my stomach is a mess from my pregnancy, and my son is THREE. I wish I knew where my camera was because I swear that picture I included looks much better than I really do. Haha.

      I completely agree — I used to preach all about being happy and loving food and not caring about what other people thought and all that, just to find out I actually am insecure. What a surprise! Haha. I’m working to get my inner brain to agree with my preaching.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. I like my big hips and big butt. I’ve always had those. In high school my friends made me president of the IBTC. It took having my daughter to get any boobs at all. I hate my upper arms. They are flabby and they jiggle. I hate my hands, wrists, ankles and feet because arthritis has taken away all femininity from them. I am working on my weight for health reasons. We all need to be able to accept ourselves a la your final doodle there but we all have a million different reasons why not to. As always, great post!!

    Liked by 2 people

      • Oh I could whine, I mean share, about my body all day long. My mom gave me and my sister both some serious food issues. My sister has tended toward anorexia while I compulsively overeat. I thought for awhile I had the food issues beat but it was only because drugs were a bigger priority during that time. As soon as I detoxed all the food issues came back and they brought all the weight I lost to drugs back with them. :-/

        Liked by 1 person

  7. Join the club of huge bosomed curvy women who once upon a time starved themselves to look like stick figures and now refuse to diet or exercise. Actually, I did diet healthfully to lose over 20 lbs from my highest weight of 178. Now in the 150s at 5’7″ and 51 years old, I’m OK with how I look. Still, I have insecurities, too. Like you, I am both confident and insecure. Complexity and paradox make life more interesting.

    Liked by 2 people

  8. I love this post, it’s real and honest. I hate my tubby tummy that muffins over my pants. I love my butt and boobs. And feet…I think it’s a constant struggle for me to accept the way I am, especially when I don’t make healthy choices. If I am making healthy choices 80% of the time, I’m cool with the fact that I’ll never be smaller than a size 10.

    Liked by 3 people

  9. Thanks for sharing and well said again. My tummy looks just like yours and I can relate on what you said. But you know what: Yes, you are definitely good enough and you look great. And I rather happily eat something than unhappily what someone eat and starve myself (and be a bad role model to my kids).

    Liked by 1 person

  10. I love this post! It’s one of the most honest things I’ve ever seen written about the way we view our bodies. It really is a love/hate relationship. I have what could be described as one of those fat skinny bodies. I have really skinny arms and skinny legs but a muffin top that I just cannot get rid of. Sure if I ate healthier, the muffin top probably wouldn’t be quite as doughy, but I just don’t have it in me to diet.

    You look great by the way! :)

    Liked by 1 person

  11. The line that jumped out for me, the most beautifully crafted line in my view because it so effectively expresses the experience, was, “…in order to get over my insecurities I have to pull them all to the surface…”, which expresses exactly what I’ve discovered in the self-discovery part of my personal growth project: the indispensable role of pulling my feelings to the surface and examining them thoroughly, “walking around” in them, both in the sense of feeling how it is to live, to walk around “wearing” them, but also walking around “inside” them, looking, probing, beginning to understand “what they’re about”. This way I take control and keep them from controlling me, erupting surreptitiously, disruptively in me.

    Part of the damage done by the iron-age religion in which I was raised, and its iron-age world view and iron-age ignorance of developmental psychology, was to label as “occasions of sin” any dwelling on “indecent” feelings. It was at least a “venial sin” to dwell on “indecent” thoughts and to enjoy “indecent” feelings because it was likely to lead on into the more serious “mortal sin” of “indecent” actions. All this repression accomplished was to stifle what we could rather call “occasions of growth”, a natural developmental stage in which , like any other “playing” one learns important life lessons — in this case lessons about oneself: who and what one is, how one wants to live — and why — what one wants to become as one grows and develops. Stuffing these thoughts and feelings deep down out of sight, and not examining them, leaves a damaging gap in ones self-knowledge, and so a gap in ones ability to take control of ones own life and happiness.

    Like

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