I found a new HOME! And more on body image.

8 Aug

Reading a teenybopper book called “The List.” My new bank is going to get me in trouble because they are giving me a kindle fire where I can buy/read instantly all the books IN MY NEW HOME of Denver, Colorado (LoHi folks, there is an ice cream shoppe (yes “-pe”) that is to DIE for. Coffee Toffee or Salted Oreo. Ahmmmnommmm). Whew that was long.

So, any Denver folk have suggestions on how to be a good integrated person in CO? I already got my plates!

Anyhow, body image. Every woman struggles with it. I literally do not have photographs of myself from 7th grade to like junior year of high school. That portion of my life has been deleted. I would walk around with *Alexa at the high school church retreats, and we would avoid eating as much as possible. Proud that they would marvel on how “we only needed” 1/2 a cup of grapes for dinner or carrots. I knew tricks like, cut food impossibly small and drink a lot of water so your “meal” lasted the whole time. I was never severely anorexic, and but I definitely maintained disordered eating. After talking to a doctor years later, he mentioned he thought I had been bulimic, which surprised me since I never purged. But I did skip breakfast and lunch frequently, “binge” by eating dinner, and was uncomfortable in situations where I was expected to eat large amounts of food. I sat at a weight of 117 as a 5’8” woman– which while not dangerous, was not a natural weight for me (my “healthy happy weight” is around 145). 

Something shifted drastically when I traveled to Africa, and this triggered something in me somewhat like apathy towards my body. I became disconnected from it– it is a thing, a machine, and there are so many other things. Likewise, when I realized I wanted to explore what it meant to have a relationship with women– so little was based on appearance. I had worn a lot of make-up, was very careful to make my hair be how it should, and was terrified of my own body as a sexual entity (refer back– but largely due to body-shaming). I was considered pretty at a young, young age and was also extremely insecure. I vividly remember 30-35 year old men hitting me up, (curvy body and 5’8” since 5th grade, voracious reading habit) and then looking shocked that I was 12 or 13 years old. I didn’t know how to treat it.

Upon exploring relationships with women, and largely in my college years of traveling and being comfortable in my own body– I have had a much more blase attitude towards clothes and make-up. I realized recently I hardly really look at myself– ever. In the mirror. Like meh, it’s just my body. 

I don’t know. I think hopefully there is an in-between. Like, you know, I do like my hair curly. You know, I should take care of my skin. You know, it doesn’t mean you suck and feminism and/or being “queer” if you like to wear blush, and eyeliner, and sometimes shop the sales rack at Anthro. 

I have such a varying style it is bizarre. Some days I’ll spike my hair, wear my big glasses, sport no make-up and a vest over battered jeans and a white t. The next I’ll dress in girly dress and curl my hair (BOMB GIRLS baby, so good!) and wear coral lipstick #omgsoooopertty. I don’t know folks. Thoughts????? WHO ARE WE?!



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