Oh god I'm apparently feeling wordy this morning D=
So. This is the product of my mother dragging me out of bed this morning and sticking me on the scales. Again. And then mentioning something about my spots. And generally making me aware of how much I dislike parts of myself. And then telling me about what she was like at my age.
No one ever realises how gorgeous and beautiful they are, do they?
A while back, I found some photographs of my Mother when she was my age. She was stunning. Absolutely, utterly, stunningly gorgeous. And she hated herself. She said that she would look in the mirror and poke at her 'fat' thighs and frown at her red hair and her glasses and generally pick as many holes in her apperance as possible. She says she knows know how gorgeous she was then, but at the time, it never sunk in.
And that's just true of everybody. It will take five, ten, twenty years for you to look back and realise how fucking gorgeous you were then, how beautiful you are NOW.
Why is it okay to look at a photograph of yourself that's ten years old and say how fabulous you looked then, but not okay to look at yourself in the mirror and say how fabulous you look now?
So many of my friends spend time lamenting how they look (and usually, how this translates into not having a boyfriend/girlfriend) and it doesn't matter how often you tell them that they're being stupid and they're gorgeous, they won't listen, or it won't sink in.
Having a partner, or not having a partner, is not indicative of your looks and your personality, it's just a fact. Having a boyfriend or a girlfriend should not be a validation, it should not be the seal of approval that says, "Actually, yeah, you are fantastic", that should come from yourself, you should already know that you're fabulous and fantastic,because you are. Also, not all Men or Women are attracted to the cookie-cutter men and women you see in magazines and tv, however much the media might blind us to these facts, what people are attracted to is as individual as what people look like.
I say this as if I'm elevated above this, but I'm not. I poke at my fat thighs and mess with my hair, and I hate the blotchy skin around my nose and the dry skin on my forehead, and the funny bumpy pink skin on my neck, and the stretch marks on my thighs, and the way my ribs stick out even with the roll of my belly, and my stumpy legs, and my stupid goddammed face in photographs. I worry that I spend too much time reading comics, and that people think I'm weird, and that people write me off as a geek, and that I don't act enough like an adult and I talk too much and I'm too loud and I'm arrogant and that I'm generally an anoying fuck.
I don't want it to take twenty years for me to love myself as I am today.
So...I'm starting off small. I fucking love my breasts. They're small 34A, and when I lie on my back, they're practically pancake flat, they're pale and kindof blotchy and kindof a funny shape and they don't give me any kind of defenition, I mean, I practically go straight up and down. BUT I FUCKING LOVE THEM. I have genuinely sat in front of a mirror and just looked at them, and felt them, yes, and just gone, "Goddamm, yes, you are good boobs"
So. This post is going to end on that note. I FUCKING LOVE MY BOOBS! Because I feel that that is a good note to end on, yes? Ha. And I want positivity today!
Anyone want to shove me off my soap-box? Tell me to shut it? Tell me I'm wrong? TELL ME WHAT THEY LOVE ABOUT THEMSELVES?
....Okay. I'm going to post this without reading over it, because, if I do? I'll end up deleting it and never posting it, but I don't want to do that really...so, yeah.
No one ever realises how gorgeous and beautiful they are, do they?
A while back, I found some photographs of my Mother when she was my age. She was stunning. Absolutely, utterly, stunningly gorgeous. And she hated herself. She said that she would look in the mirror and poke at her 'fat' thighs and frown at her red hair and her glasses and generally pick as many holes in her apperance as possible. She says she knows know how gorgeous she was then, but at the time, it never sunk in.
And that's just true of everybody. It will take five, ten, twenty years for you to look back and realise how fucking gorgeous you were then, how beautiful you are NOW.
Why is it okay to look at a photograph of yourself that's ten years old and say how fabulous you looked then, but not okay to look at yourself in the mirror and say how fabulous you look now?
So many of my friends spend time lamenting how they look (and usually, how this translates into not having a boyfriend/girlfriend) and it doesn't matter how often you tell them that they're being stupid and they're gorgeous, they won't listen, or it won't sink in.
Having a partner, or not having a partner, is not indicative of your looks and your personality, it's just a fact. Having a boyfriend or a girlfriend should not be a validation, it should not be the seal of approval that says, "Actually, yeah, you are fantastic", that should come from yourself, you should already know that you're fabulous and fantastic,because you are. Also, not all Men or Women are attracted to the cookie-cutter men and women you see in magazines and tv, however much the media might blind us to these facts, what people are attracted to is as individual as what people look like.
I say this as if I'm elevated above this, but I'm not. I poke at my fat thighs and mess with my hair, and I hate the blotchy skin around my nose and the dry skin on my forehead, and the funny bumpy pink skin on my neck, and the stretch marks on my thighs, and the way my ribs stick out even with the roll of my belly, and my stumpy legs, and my stupid goddammed face in photographs. I worry that I spend too much time reading comics, and that people think I'm weird, and that people write me off as a geek, and that I don't act enough like an adult and I talk too much and I'm too loud and I'm arrogant and that I'm generally an anoying fuck.
I don't want it to take twenty years for me to love myself as I am today.
So...I'm starting off small. I fucking love my breasts. They're small 34A, and when I lie on my back, they're practically pancake flat, they're pale and kindof blotchy and kindof a funny shape and they don't give me any kind of defenition, I mean, I practically go straight up and down. BUT I FUCKING LOVE THEM. I have genuinely sat in front of a mirror and just looked at them, and felt them, yes, and just gone, "Goddamm, yes, you are good boobs"
So. This post is going to end on that note. I FUCKING LOVE MY BOOBS! Because I feel that that is a good note to end on, yes? Ha. And I want positivity today!
Anyone want to shove me off my soap-box? Tell me to shut it? Tell me I'm wrong? TELL ME WHAT THEY LOVE ABOUT THEMSELVES?
....Okay. I'm going to post this without reading over it, because, if I do? I'll end up deleting it and never posting it, but I don't want to do that really...so, yeah.