Mirror, mirror on the wall...
I wish to hell that I gave a crap about how I look. I was reading a friends journal, where he was talking about getting contacts - which reminded me that I used to wear contacts back in the days "when I wanted to be cute" as I used to say.
To look at me then, and to look at me now - you'd see a completely different person. I was "thick" but hwp, and fairly "girly". My hair was long and flattering. I was never one for make-up, but I did grow and paint my nails, and I looked very feminine and put together.
And I remember the day I "snapped" and stopped caring. In fact I had a surge of self-hatred so strong that it stopped me dead in my tracks. It was that day that I cut my hair and began the transition to an amorphous blob.
It was 11 years ago, and I was with the last "boyfriend". Hindsight tells me that at that moment, I realized that I hated him, hated living with him (he had moved in maybe 2 months prior), and I had gotten myself into a situation that I had no idea how to get out of. So like many women, I took that hatred out on myself, and proceeded to destroy the problem by making myself SO unattractive that A - he wouldn't want me and B - nobody else would either, thereby saving myself from ever doing something that dumb again.
I say this was hindsight, because at the time, all I wanted to do was cut my hair. But that was the defining moment. That was the moment, when I gave up, when I stopped caring.
Of course having never said that he WAS attracted to me, cutting my hair and getting fat, never caused him to say he WASN'T attracted to me, and therefore we didn't break up until I broke us up.
I went from having a boyfriend who couldn't tell me enough how much he liked this or that about me, or the way I looked - to a boyfriend who treated compliments like they were a deadly virus. He was A LOT like my father. That was another realization that hit me like a brick. That's when I knew that we could continue, and get married, and I would become my mother, and my life would never change. I saw it quite clearly. Years down the road, what I had now, would be what I had then.
So I can say with all truthfulness that I've dated a man who channeled my dad.
Anyway, having taken the nearest on-ramp back to the topic...
I'm not sure how to start caring again. I'm not sure if I WANT to start caring again. I'm not sure if I want to feel that insecurity of NOT being thin enough, or attractive enough. At least this way, there is no question, no room for debate - which makes things so much easier.
Having said that, I WOULD like to feel "cute" again. I WOULD like to leave my house KNOWING I looked good, and strut my stuff & switch my butt again.
I guess the question is then, do I want it enough?
To look at me then, and to look at me now - you'd see a completely different person. I was "thick" but hwp, and fairly "girly". My hair was long and flattering. I was never one for make-up, but I did grow and paint my nails, and I looked very feminine and put together.
And I remember the day I "snapped" and stopped caring. In fact I had a surge of self-hatred so strong that it stopped me dead in my tracks. It was that day that I cut my hair and began the transition to an amorphous blob.
It was 11 years ago, and I was with the last "boyfriend". Hindsight tells me that at that moment, I realized that I hated him, hated living with him (he had moved in maybe 2 months prior), and I had gotten myself into a situation that I had no idea how to get out of. So like many women, I took that hatred out on myself, and proceeded to destroy the problem by making myself SO unattractive that A - he wouldn't want me and B - nobody else would either, thereby saving myself from ever doing something that dumb again.
I say this was hindsight, because at the time, all I wanted to do was cut my hair. But that was the defining moment. That was the moment, when I gave up, when I stopped caring.
Of course having never said that he WAS attracted to me, cutting my hair and getting fat, never caused him to say he WASN'T attracted to me, and therefore we didn't break up until I broke us up.
I went from having a boyfriend who couldn't tell me enough how much he liked this or that about me, or the way I looked - to a boyfriend who treated compliments like they were a deadly virus. He was A LOT like my father. That was another realization that hit me like a brick. That's when I knew that we could continue, and get married, and I would become my mother, and my life would never change. I saw it quite clearly. Years down the road, what I had now, would be what I had then.
So I can say with all truthfulness that I've dated a man who channeled my dad.
Anyway, having taken the nearest on-ramp back to the topic...
I'm not sure how to start caring again. I'm not sure if I WANT to start caring again. I'm not sure if I want to feel that insecurity of NOT being thin enough, or attractive enough. At least this way, there is no question, no room for debate - which makes things so much easier.
Having said that, I WOULD like to feel "cute" again. I WOULD like to leave my house KNOWING I looked good, and strut my stuff & switch my butt again.
I guess the question is then, do I want it enough?