Many people don't put any stock in dreams. There are a few who take their dreams literally, as premonitions or an opening to some understanding that their consciousness could not receive during wakeful hours. I fall somewhere in the middle - receptive to the ideas and themes inside my dreams but aware that some may just be folly.
The wonky meds have been influencing my dreams a lot. I had one the other day where I was married to a man, screaming and crying and shouting my protestations that I was a lesbian, but he was adamant that by tying me down and dying my hair I would become straight and docile. Then another, in the shower, a pretty girl softly and gently washing my hair under the spray of the shower as she nipped at my neck and her skin slid wetly across mine. Then another, this morning, curled up with my head against a thickly beating heart as my hair was brushed away from my face, and the steady fingers continued down my back before starting again at my temple.
Do you see the pattern? So I looked it up and this is what I got:
"If feelings of satisfaction or contentment accompany the dream, this
likely indicates welcome, positive change. Since hair is inextricably
linked with image, a positive feelings also indicate an image upgrade. If the dream feels disturbing, it symbolizes damage to self-image.
Negative salon [cutting or dying] dreams can be interpreted as symbols of unwanted or
undesired change or they may be intuitive urgings that a contemplated
change will be disastrous.
Hair is not only an image symbol, it is also a sex symbol. Women
especially use hair to increase their sexual attractiveness. Some women
also play with their hair when trying to attract attention of the
opposite [or same] sex. For a woman, dreams about playing with her hair can indicate a playful attitude toward sexuality or a desire for attention. Dreams of long, healthy dream hair are representative of confidence,
power, contentment, and spiritual, mental, and physical well-being."
Shocker? No, I feel like my dreams were pretty forthcoming. I do find it interesting that there are enough people who have these dreams that certain things become symbolic and our psyches can use them at will. For me, hair is also comforting, a soothing gesture at the end of a long day, something to ease my pain when I'm ill, a way for people to get close without me feeling self-conscious.
Perhaps I miss that comfort because I'm sick, or perhaps it's a whole bunch of other things :) but for the most part they've been very good dreams.
Showing posts with label body image. Show all posts
Showing posts with label body image. Show all posts
Jan 7, 2013
Dec 30, 2012
Family/Heavy Update
I got the phone call. The one I was half-expecting to come at three am from a sobbing girl. Instead it was an afternoon text message: Can you please call me when you have free time? So innocent, so politely distant. This is how my family works. We all do this. We all downplay our feelings and refuse to take up anyone's time or emotions or ask for what we need.
I called my niece right away and she was in tears on the other end of the line. "I told my mom and she just - she thinks that if I go out with my friends for a night it's going to go away and I'm going to get better!" I let her cry while I analyzed, processed, and also because she needed to get it out. She's so worried that by asking for help she's going to break up her family, cause her parents to divorce, be branded as a screw up for the rest of her life. "-and then she said 'What, do I need to worry about you committing suicide, too?' and she just spat it at me!" my niece sobbed.
This is where being an aunt puts me in a difficult position. I am, in age, between my brother and his daughter. I am at a point in my life where I can understand both points of view, and it doesn't seem very long ago that I was dealing with my own high school/college issues. His wife, K, and I are so close, probably the closest of all my siblings, (plus or minus Ladybug) and her relationship with my niece is so reminiscent of my own with my mother.
I know that K feels like a bad parent, that she is trying to help/love/comfort her daughter, but has no idea how to handle this situation. I also know that my niece is trying to protect her mother, trying to lock away all her emotions, because she feels like by being honest she is ripping her foundation apart.
So I'm flying out to see them and I honestly couldn't be happier about it. I want to take my niece in my arms and check that she's okay with my own eyes. I want a late night conversation with my sister so she can talk to me about everything she feels overwhelmed by and can't process.
I want to walk into the doctor's office with them and assure them that it doesn't make us lesser people. I want us to walk out of there as a unit and I want my niece to go to sleep at night knowing that her family is rock solid and 100% behind keeping her well and happy, above and beyond everything else.
This is the definition of being family. I am more than happy to live up to the parameters.
I called my niece right away and she was in tears on the other end of the line. "I told my mom and she just - she thinks that if I go out with my friends for a night it's going to go away and I'm going to get better!" I let her cry while I analyzed, processed, and also because she needed to get it out. She's so worried that by asking for help she's going to break up her family, cause her parents to divorce, be branded as a screw up for the rest of her life. "-and then she said 'What, do I need to worry about you committing suicide, too?' and she just spat it at me!" my niece sobbed.
This is where being an aunt puts me in a difficult position. I am, in age, between my brother and his daughter. I am at a point in my life where I can understand both points of view, and it doesn't seem very long ago that I was dealing with my own high school/college issues. His wife, K, and I are so close, probably the closest of all my siblings, (plus or minus Ladybug) and her relationship with my niece is so reminiscent of my own with my mother.
I know that K feels like a bad parent, that she is trying to help/love/comfort her daughter, but has no idea how to handle this situation. I also know that my niece is trying to protect her mother, trying to lock away all her emotions, because she feels like by being honest she is ripping her foundation apart.
So I'm flying out to see them and I honestly couldn't be happier about it. I want to take my niece in my arms and check that she's okay with my own eyes. I want a late night conversation with my sister so she can talk to me about everything she feels overwhelmed by and can't process.
I want to walk into the doctor's office with them and assure them that it doesn't make us lesser people. I want us to walk out of there as a unit and I want my niece to go to sleep at night knowing that her family is rock solid and 100% behind keeping her well and happy, above and beyond everything else.
This is the definition of being family. I am more than happy to live up to the parameters.
Dec 29, 2012
SO GAY
The So Gay necklace caught my eye because I am not a huge fan of using the word "lesbian" to describe myself, and I like the sense of humor tucked into the phrase while reclaiming it for myself. The bars stand for equality, which is lovely. I also received an Equality key chain which makes me smile every time I look at it and will keep my keys company (and little activists).
I don't usually wear jewelry, but I can see this becoming a nice statement piece. I've already tried it on with dresses, t-shirts, blouses, and...numerous other things, and I love the way it looks with all of them! She makes resin and steel pieces with an assortment of fun and fantastic phrases to suit all your moods, so go check out her store and see if you find something you like! I can't wait to go to the local coffee shop and see what my androgynous/possibly gay/I-can't-quite-read-her-sexuality barista says!
It makes me feel good to wear it and that's the most important thing. If you've been waiting a lifetime for a Femme necklace, here's your chance! If you want Mrs. and Mrs. hearts or Butch Pride tags this is the place to get them :) I love how I look and I love how I feel. Check out her shop and let me know which one makes you feel best :D
Sugarbutch/Poly
I just want to take a minute and talk about Sugarbutch. Sinclair has been cultivating fantastic interviews about poly life and I am thoroughly enjoying all of them. Poly freaks me out. I've talked about this before. There's so much in me that would be interested in poly with the right people, but also I'm so afraid of not being enough (reoccurring theme much?)/losing love/getting walked out on/ I have severe insecurity issues because my girlfriends keep going straight.
Of all the interviews, this is the one I love most so far. Because this reassures me. This makes me feel like as a normal person with all my issues, I could overcome it to have a healthy, happy, lifelong relationship with more than one person. Not that I'm going to, because that's not something I really crave, so it would have to be both of us seeking out that situation. But still, the reassurance is nice, and the interviews are beautiful and full of good advice. Check them out.
Of all the interviews, this is the one I love most so far. Because this reassures me. This makes me feel like as a normal person with all my issues, I could overcome it to have a healthy, happy, lifelong relationship with more than one person. Not that I'm going to, because that's not something I really crave, so it would have to be both of us seeking out that situation. But still, the reassurance is nice, and the interviews are beautiful and full of good advice. Check them out.
Dec 26, 2012
Heavy
When Christmas gets heavy:
I skyped with my brother's kids late Christmas night. They're cute kids, 15 and 8, but they're a little overemotional. My nephew is funny and biting but can be sensitive, and so can his sister. My niece is a junior in high school, after she skipped a grade in middle school, and she's been dealt some heavy cards lately: her best friend died from cancer last year, and her other best friend went to jail for molesting younger boys after he himself was abused. Her life has sucked the past few years.
She wanted to talk to me about it this summer, but couldn't find the words, and being raised in a family where we don't push to communicate, I held her as she cried and told her she could come to me when she was ready. Last night's call was tense, grumpy, and awkward, and finally she kicked her little brother out of the room and broke down.
She's been anorexic for the last year. She has emotions she can't understand - feeling happy and normal one day, grumpy and depressed and introverted for no reason the next. She feels anxious, paranoid, stressed, and she doesn't want to tell her parents because she doesn't want to be a fuck up.
I'm pretty good at being calm and reasonable and compassionate when people come to me, but after the fact, when I'm writing about this, I can't help but start to cry. Should I have told her about my anorexia years ago? My depression as an early teenager? The year when I'd been lost and confused and tricked into thinking I'd fatally hurt one of my best friends? Should I be talking about these things to my other nieces and nephews who might be feeling the same way?
Luckily, her mom, K, is the sibling I talk to most, and she knows, briefly, about my struggles with anorexia. After ascertaining and making sure that my niece is not suicidal, I convinced her to talk to her mom. She's struggling, she's drowning, and she needs help and understanding. Maybe it's a conversation I will be part of, maybe I will end up flying out there to help, or maybe she'll find the courage to say something and then call me later. And I understand her hesitation, because she can be emotional and now her parents tend to brush her emotions off. But now I'm worried about her. Because this is what leads to drugs and sex and suicide.
I know there's a stigma against getting help, especially in our family - I mean, hell, I never got help or talked to my mom about any of my issues for that very reason. But I'd rather get her help than see her all over the papers. I'd rather she learn that help is okay than to lose her forever. She's my baby girl who is sarcastic and funny, who lights up at Disneyland, and wants to be a singer and has so much talent, who plays the guitar with me and can sing Katy Perry better than Katy Perry can. I refuse to see her light go out because she won't tell her parents or a doctor that something is wrong.
I skyped with my brother's kids late Christmas night. They're cute kids, 15 and 8, but they're a little overemotional. My nephew is funny and biting but can be sensitive, and so can his sister. My niece is a junior in high school, after she skipped a grade in middle school, and she's been dealt some heavy cards lately: her best friend died from cancer last year, and her other best friend went to jail for molesting younger boys after he himself was abused. Her life has sucked the past few years.
She wanted to talk to me about it this summer, but couldn't find the words, and being raised in a family where we don't push to communicate, I held her as she cried and told her she could come to me when she was ready. Last night's call was tense, grumpy, and awkward, and finally she kicked her little brother out of the room and broke down.
She's been anorexic for the last year. She has emotions she can't understand - feeling happy and normal one day, grumpy and depressed and introverted for no reason the next. She feels anxious, paranoid, stressed, and she doesn't want to tell her parents because she doesn't want to be a fuck up.
I'm pretty good at being calm and reasonable and compassionate when people come to me, but after the fact, when I'm writing about this, I can't help but start to cry. Should I have told her about my anorexia years ago? My depression as an early teenager? The year when I'd been lost and confused and tricked into thinking I'd fatally hurt one of my best friends? Should I be talking about these things to my other nieces and nephews who might be feeling the same way?
Luckily, her mom, K, is the sibling I talk to most, and she knows, briefly, about my struggles with anorexia. After ascertaining and making sure that my niece is not suicidal, I convinced her to talk to her mom. She's struggling, she's drowning, and she needs help and understanding. Maybe it's a conversation I will be part of, maybe I will end up flying out there to help, or maybe she'll find the courage to say something and then call me later. And I understand her hesitation, because she can be emotional and now her parents tend to brush her emotions off. But now I'm worried about her. Because this is what leads to drugs and sex and suicide.
I know there's a stigma against getting help, especially in our family - I mean, hell, I never got help or talked to my mom about any of my issues for that very reason. But I'd rather get her help than see her all over the papers. I'd rather she learn that help is okay than to lose her forever. She's my baby girl who is sarcastic and funny, who lights up at Disneyland, and wants to be a singer and has so much talent, who plays the guitar with me and can sing Katy Perry better than Katy Perry can. I refuse to see her light go out because she won't tell her parents or a doctor that something is wrong.
Dec 16, 2012
Presents
Christmas season got you feeling tired? Dry? Chapped? Presents for you (and her!) !!
So you're working holiday overtime and not getting enough sleep. Just because your right eye is twitching from fatigue doesn't mean your eyes need to have bags or look puffy! If you do, you're using the wrong eye cream!
What I use:
bareMinerals Renew and Hydrate Eye Cream.
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| Hand lotion is a must! |
This little travel size bottle is in every walmart/target/vons/cvs/you-name-it for $1.50 and it'll be the best thing you've ever done for your winter-dry hands! Let's be honest, your lady likes your velvet skin, so keep it that way and tuck one of these in your pocket, though morning and night is usually good enough for me. (Also don't forget to drink tons of water which will also make your skin lusciously soft!)
Spent all your money on eye cream? It's chill, because this lip balm is inexpensive, smells good, tastes good, and is very hydrating.
| Quenched |
Quenched is a pretty tasteless and clear one, although peppermint is clear too and I love it. Both have permanent homes in my pocket because this time of year my lips are constantly in need of a little balm and I am not much of a gloss girl.
If you're willing to splurge a little on lip care I highly recommend Sugar by Fresh lip treatment, which can be found at Sephora. It's my other go-to and super hydrating, plus it smells like sugar and lemon!
Don't forget that taking care of yourself not only makes you happy, but also makes your lady happy. Give her the gift of soft skin this winter! Good luck shopping!
Nov 27, 2012
Underthings
When I first started this blog, it was a little bit racy, a little bit sexy, a little bit about discovering and being discovered. If you've been with me for a while, you'll remember when I used to give myself "body homework" learning to get comfortable with myself and my body (and trying to get over past insecurities). That was put on pause for a long time as I got comfortable with my mental self, with my identity, my sexuality, my gender, my emotions. Everything stabilized, and I'm very grateful for that.
Today I didn't have any underwear. Literally, none. I practically have no clean clothes left. My laundry pile is three feet high and I have no time to do it. I suppose I did this morning, but I quickly hemmed up a sweater dress instead and then realized later that my undergarment drawer was empty. Oops. So I hopped out of the shower and decided "screw it, who needs panties everyday? People do it all the time!"
Note: I cannot text people when I'm in the bath for fear that they will somehow realize that I'm naked while I'm texting them. Okay? You get this? So I left the house and bumped into my neighbor; super nice, 50s, working class. She starts talking to me about this and that and her daughter and all I can think about is how awkward it is that I'm NOT WEARING UNDERWEAR and SOMEHOW SHE MUST KNOW. Except she couldn't, because normal people don't have x-ray vision, but still. It was so awkward and I couldn't follow the conversation at all.
Then, I was at work with this pretty girl named Cindy; she's around my age, really nice and her fiance is pretty awesome. She leaned in to brush a stray eyelash from under my eye behind my glasses, and she was so slow and gentle. I closed my eyes so she didn't poke me in the eyeball, and there it was, that strange, nagging feeling and an oncoming blush because all I could think about was that I wasn't wearing any underthings.
Maybe I could get used to it, in time. Maybe people do it all the time because they like this constant reminder, this heightened feeling. Maybe they like the idea that people might find out. I don't know. The heightened feeling wasn't all bad. It's just...it was the everyday situations with everyday people that made it so awkward. If I were on a date it might've been different, but I was at work.
If I were to try it again, It probably wouldn't be with a sweater dress, and it definitely won't be tomorrow. Here's to clean laundry!
Note: Still updating the first:girl series over at tabbyqt.wordpress.com Check it out to see how I fell in love for the first time and stumbled out of the closet.
Today I didn't have any underwear. Literally, none. I practically have no clean clothes left. My laundry pile is three feet high and I have no time to do it. I suppose I did this morning, but I quickly hemmed up a sweater dress instead and then realized later that my undergarment drawer was empty. Oops. So I hopped out of the shower and decided "screw it, who needs panties everyday? People do it all the time!"
Note: I cannot text people when I'm in the bath for fear that they will somehow realize that I'm naked while I'm texting them. Okay? You get this? So I left the house and bumped into my neighbor; super nice, 50s, working class. She starts talking to me about this and that and her daughter and all I can think about is how awkward it is that I'm NOT WEARING UNDERWEAR and SOMEHOW SHE MUST KNOW. Except she couldn't, because normal people don't have x-ray vision, but still. It was so awkward and I couldn't follow the conversation at all.
Then, I was at work with this pretty girl named Cindy; she's around my age, really nice and her fiance is pretty awesome. She leaned in to brush a stray eyelash from under my eye behind my glasses, and she was so slow and gentle. I closed my eyes so she didn't poke me in the eyeball, and there it was, that strange, nagging feeling and an oncoming blush because all I could think about was that I wasn't wearing any underthings.
Maybe I could get used to it, in time. Maybe people do it all the time because they like this constant reminder, this heightened feeling. Maybe they like the idea that people might find out. I don't know. The heightened feeling wasn't all bad. It's just...it was the everyday situations with everyday people that made it so awkward. If I were on a date it might've been different, but I was at work.
If I were to try it again, It probably wouldn't be with a sweater dress, and it definitely won't be tomorrow. Here's to clean laundry!
Note: Still updating the first:girl series over at tabbyqt.wordpress.com Check it out to see how I fell in love for the first time and stumbled out of the closet.
Nov 1, 2012
Good Lookin' Wednesday
Anyway, there's a speech Anna Faris gives (spoiler) about how she is allergic to Azithromycin. She takes it anyway because the allergic reaction makes her flushed and beautiful and there's a whole lot more that proves a point in the movie.
Anyway, all day yesterday I felt awful because of my spider bite. But, despite the bone and muscle pain, my skin was glowingly fabulous. The swollen, puffy effect was beautiful, like botox! I've never thought about plastic surgery or injections before, but the effect was amazing. I didn't look tired or sad or stressed, I just looked happy and well.
Would I ever surgically enhance myself? I don't know :/ It seems like a lot of work and pain and recovery for not that much improvement. I'm not really big on pain and needles and surgery.
But at least I looked pretty on Halloween.
Oct 28, 2012
Baggage
I just want to start out by saying that this is not a cry for help. This is communicating.
Everyone has their own baggage, whether it's mental illness, criminal records, bad dating history, abuse, violence, drinking, drugs, addictions of any other sort, or whatever else. When you have an eating disorder, like all other baggage, it never goes away. It's not like one day you wake up and you can eat everything and anything and in the back of your head you're not thinking of all the calories adding up in big piles.
This is my baggage. It's not so much baggage for other people because it's really an internal awareness. Do I eat junk food? Yes. Do I eat and not feel guilty? Yes. But I've come a long way since I was really sick in high school, and for some people it's a very daily struggle. I still drink at least fourteen glasses of water a day - it's a habit I haven't been able to break.
I haven't been eating much lately. At first I think it was time management, I've been working two jobs and trying to get things done, and when I finally have time to eat it's been four hours since I was first hungry and I can barely choke down a granola bar without feeling sick.
I've been doing it for a while now, so the idea of eating a whole meal makes me nauseous. I don't think it's my eating disorder talking. It doesn't feel like forcing myself not to eat by drinking ice water and looking at pro-ana posters. I feel physically ill. That's not to say that those feelings couldn't stem from something psychological in nature, which is why I was getting worried again. There were four days over this past week that I only had an energy bar (bagel type thing with nuts and fruit) or a granola bar over the whole day, which is not normal eating behavior.
Today, though, was my first full day off since last Sunday, and it felt so good! I moved some stuff, cleaned some stuff, moved some more stuff, and climbed around in the rafters to repair some stuff. All in all, I got a lot of things done, and worked up an appetite!
So, I made flautas for dinner! Yes, flautas! You know, those delicious things made from flour tortillas with meat or tofu (chicken, in my case) sauce, cheese, sour cream, guacamole, lettuce, and salsa? Which means today I had breakfast and a full dinner, which eases some of my worry. I try to be good, I try to be healthy, so I need to make sure to stop and take time to eat, no matter how many jobs I'm trying to do.
Everyone has their own baggage, whether it's mental illness, criminal records, bad dating history, abuse, violence, drinking, drugs, addictions of any other sort, or whatever else. When you have an eating disorder, like all other baggage, it never goes away. It's not like one day you wake up and you can eat everything and anything and in the back of your head you're not thinking of all the calories adding up in big piles.
This is my baggage. It's not so much baggage for other people because it's really an internal awareness. Do I eat junk food? Yes. Do I eat and not feel guilty? Yes. But I've come a long way since I was really sick in high school, and for some people it's a very daily struggle. I still drink at least fourteen glasses of water a day - it's a habit I haven't been able to break.
I haven't been eating much lately. At first I think it was time management, I've been working two jobs and trying to get things done, and when I finally have time to eat it's been four hours since I was first hungry and I can barely choke down a granola bar without feeling sick.
I've been doing it for a while now, so the idea of eating a whole meal makes me nauseous. I don't think it's my eating disorder talking. It doesn't feel like forcing myself not to eat by drinking ice water and looking at pro-ana posters. I feel physically ill. That's not to say that those feelings couldn't stem from something psychological in nature, which is why I was getting worried again. There were four days over this past week that I only had an energy bar (bagel type thing with nuts and fruit) or a granola bar over the whole day, which is not normal eating behavior.
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| Stuff I moved |
So, I made flautas for dinner! Yes, flautas! You know, those delicious things made from flour tortillas with meat or tofu (chicken, in my case) sauce, cheese, sour cream, guacamole, lettuce, and salsa? Which means today I had breakfast and a full dinner, which eases some of my worry. I try to be good, I try to be healthy, so I need to make sure to stop and take time to eat, no matter how many jobs I'm trying to do.
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| Stuff I found, but not at my house. |
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| I found a very old Rainbow Brite doll tucked in a cabinet full of other dolls, also not at my house! |
Oct 22, 2012
Vanity
I am a vain person.
This blog serves as Evidence File #1. I sit at a computer and write about myself and feel a sense of accomplishment when other people read it. I think I'm pretty, smart, funny, polite, generous, and kind. It's fairly obvious I'm quite narcissistic.
Despite this, I don't dress up very often. I didn't come from money and I don't have much now. I'm not impoverished, but I don't buy things I don't need and I am a firm believer that with tweaking, Ikea furniture can last a long time. I don't buy clothes every year and none of my shoes cost over thirty dollars. That's just how I was raised, and I'm used to it. Plus, cheap clothes and shoes are so cute nowadays (hello, Target!)
(Side story: My sister went bankrupt after high school when she worked as a waitress in a suburb of Los Angeles. She bought thousands of dollars of clothes and shoes on a credit card, in order to catch the eye of some rich guy. After maxing out and calling it a day, she moved back home and fell head over heels for a sweet surfer guy with zero cash. They've been married for 16 years. Everybody say it with me. Awwwww.)
Anyway, I'm pretty much a t-shirt and jeans kind of gal, and people don't usually pass out compliments when you wear the same four pairs of jeans and converse for two years running. So, when I stepped out for work into the chilly, drizzling weather today I hadn't expected anything special. I was dressed differently- it was cold so I switched out my jeans for leggings and boots, my t-shirt for something more stylish.
I didn't expect to be complimented. I didn't expect people to tell me I looked beautiful, or to ask where I'd gotten my clothes or my shoes. I smiled, and someone asked what eyeshadow I was wearing (was she crazy? Who wears eyeshadow in the rain?) Someone else asked me what shampoo and conditioner I use. People complimented my hair, my smile, my laugh, my eyes. I think I may have started glowing.
I felt beautiful. Not just pretty, not just sweet and smiling in front of a mirror in the morning, but noticed. I felt as if I had suddenly come into focus, rather than just a blur in the background. It wore off as I came home from work, took out my contacts, put on warm socks.
Tomorrow I'll just be the blur - the girl in jeans and a t-shirt, and I'm okay with that. But just for today, it felt so wonderful to be beautiful.
This blog serves as Evidence File #1. I sit at a computer and write about myself and feel a sense of accomplishment when other people read it. I think I'm pretty, smart, funny, polite, generous, and kind. It's fairly obvious I'm quite narcissistic.
Despite this, I don't dress up very often. I didn't come from money and I don't have much now. I'm not impoverished, but I don't buy things I don't need and I am a firm believer that with tweaking, Ikea furniture can last a long time. I don't buy clothes every year and none of my shoes cost over thirty dollars. That's just how I was raised, and I'm used to it. Plus, cheap clothes and shoes are so cute nowadays (hello, Target!)
(Side story: My sister went bankrupt after high school when she worked as a waitress in a suburb of Los Angeles. She bought thousands of dollars of clothes and shoes on a credit card, in order to catch the eye of some rich guy. After maxing out and calling it a day, she moved back home and fell head over heels for a sweet surfer guy with zero cash. They've been married for 16 years. Everybody say it with me. Awwwww.)
Anyway, I'm pretty much a t-shirt and jeans kind of gal, and people don't usually pass out compliments when you wear the same four pairs of jeans and converse for two years running. So, when I stepped out for work into the chilly, drizzling weather today I hadn't expected anything special. I was dressed differently- it was cold so I switched out my jeans for leggings and boots, my t-shirt for something more stylish.
I didn't expect to be complimented. I didn't expect people to tell me I looked beautiful, or to ask where I'd gotten my clothes or my shoes. I smiled, and someone asked what eyeshadow I was wearing (was she crazy? Who wears eyeshadow in the rain?) Someone else asked me what shampoo and conditioner I use. People complimented my hair, my smile, my laugh, my eyes. I think I may have started glowing.
I felt beautiful. Not just pretty, not just sweet and smiling in front of a mirror in the morning, but noticed. I felt as if I had suddenly come into focus, rather than just a blur in the background. It wore off as I came home from work, took out my contacts, put on warm socks.
Tomorrow I'll just be the blur - the girl in jeans and a t-shirt, and I'm okay with that. But just for today, it felt so wonderful to be beautiful.
Oct 18, 2012
Rise of the Redhead
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| Marilyn Monroe courtesy of Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images |
The redhead.
Dyed redheads are super popular too, but the natural redhead remains the most coveted of all. Why the sudden fascination? Why are women scrambling to buy red dye from a box or a salon? Is it a feeling of empowerment and bold sexuality that accompanies the color? Or is it something else?
Few people who are not naturally red or strawberry blonde can pull off the switch to a red color. I dyed my hair a nice, vibrant mahogany-ish color once when I was 12. With my Mediterranean/Native American tanned complexion (though I am not Mediterranean and not very Native American) it looked FABULOUS on me. Just kidding, it looked awful. I won't ever do it again, I promise.
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| Karen Gillan, a stunningly lovely natural ginger |
Both of my grandmothers had red hair and my mother has lovely jade green eyes (but brown hair) and I always feel like I missed out on the DNA lotto. My sisters managed to snag her eyes but my brothers and I were left out. I've cherished her green eyes for years, but no amount of wishing has ever lightened my eyes or made them magically turn green.
I do wonder if our sudden fascination has anything to do with the Harry Potter culture-the red hair and green eyes that were so special and cherished in the storyline that wound its way through a generation of new, young readers. These readers have grown up and started what seems to be an "invasion" of British-isms. These are a generation of people who enjoy British television, books, music, talk radio, colloquialisms, and fashion. If we idolize the minds and words of those across the pond, why not their looks?
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| My ultimate badass crush- Michelle Rodriguez |
In the meantime I'm lucky in that I'm a gay lady and enjoy looking at pretty girls who are special and unique.
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| Aishwarya Rai- one of the most beautiful women in the world, and Jamie Chung- current TV love who is heating it up on ABC's Once Upon A Time |
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| Kerry Washington is lighting up DC with her gorgeous face in Scandal and just try to tell me you're not in love with Grace Park, a smokin' hot lady you might recognize from Hawaii Five-O |
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| ABC's Nashville LadyCrush- Connie Britton Along with my favorite smiling girl TaySwift |
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| I will stand under your Umbrella. |
Oct 10, 2012
Good Lookin' Wednesday
So, I know Wednesdays are kind of a slump day, which is why I was hoping that by posting on Wednesdays it would give me and you a middle-of-the-week perk up. Sharing tips, tricks, and good products is always fun, helpful, and a real money saver because someone else has already tested them out for you.
I try to keep many of my products pretty natural or organic (though sometimes I stray) but all of them have to do right by my skin, hair, and body. If I have to cake myself in something in order to look good, it's doing me wrong. So, for my first post I want to talk about raw honey. Yeah, the stuff you buy at the farmer's market or Trader Joe's or other healthy establishment. You can put it in your tea, use it in recipes, or even eat it plain. Did you know it's also really great for your skin?
(Note: If you're allergic to bees, do not use raw honey. Also, never give raw honey to a small child under 2 as it can be fatal. This warning label should be on the jar.)
Raw honey contains enzymes which allow it to keep many of its natural healing properties which are lost in the commercial refining process (AKA the stuff you find at Wal-Mart.) By applying it topically it can help to heal small cuts and scrapes, and using it internally supposedly has many benefits as well.
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| Raw Honey made from Orange Blossoms |
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| Since it hasn't been refined, the honey will crystallize over time, leaving a thick layer at the top while the layer underneath remains liquid. Mine is a few months old, but the thick, lighter colored layer hasn't gone bad, and will become a liquid again when exposed to the temperature of my skin. |
I combat these by washing my face with raw honey once a week. A once a week regimen will not upset the balance in any skin type. (I find that using it every day is too much moisture for me, so I use Bareminerals as my main skincare.) I wet my face first and then grab a tablespoon of honey out of the jar with my fingers. (I do not consume any honey from this jar. It is for my external use only. I don't think it'll kill you, it's just kind of an ick factor for me.) I spread it on, careful to avoid the eyelids, and let it sit for a minute (if it's a new jar it can be a little runny, so use less and watch it to make sure it doesn't run past your eyebrows) before gently massaging it across my skin.
Raw honey is grainy, and can exfoliate quickly. Be careful and light with the pressure the first few times or you could end up exfoliating too many layers in one go. This goes for any face wash. Your skin is fragile, and rubbing harshly is a surefire way to cause lines, wrinkles, and sagging. Since the honey has no artificial sweeteners or preservatives, it dissolves in water and washes away easily, leaving your face clean, soft, and glowing.
Also, if you have age spots, freckles, or mild hyperpigmentation, dampen the spot and dab a little raw honey on it for ten minutes every night and it should lighten up in a few weeks, thanks to a peroxide-type effect raw honey and water have when mixed together.
Do you use raw honey in your skin regimen? What do you think?
Also, drop a note, tweet, email, whatever, about a problem or product that you can't find or that does work for you that you'd like me to cover. Anything from getting rid of your cat's itchy flea bites to finding a good hair conditioner to the most awesome chapstick I've ever used. Let me know.
Oct 6, 2012
Don't Touch
It's long, so if you want to skip to the end, the last three paragraphs are my favorite. I'll bold it for you :)
Recently I wrote about Sexual Objectification and this, that, and the why-fors of appreciating and abhorring it. Whenever I write a post the subject seems to stick in my head for a time, and then suddenly life seems to revolve around it.
All week I have been hyper-aware of my personal space. While I like my physical traits to be appreciated, I don't enjoy being touched by people I don't know well. Handshakes, hugs, and pats on the back are fine, but lingering contact with strangers/brief acquaintances unnerves me.
Whenever I know someone will be touching me in a professional context (masseuse, chiropractor, doctor, gym trainer, etc) I shower and shave in the few hours before I go. Feeling fresh, wet, and clean is very important in those meetings. It makes me feel like I'm courteous and hygienic, and helps reassure me that particular setting will be strictly professional.
Whether this is normal behavior or this is because I have had problems with molestation in the past (ex-boyfriend and prior) is somewhat irrelevant considering I don't find the behavior harmful. I don't go ballistic if I can't shower in the hour before I have to go to the doctor- it's just a general guideline. Although I wonder how many other people do the same thing.
When I'm with friends, family, and romantic partners, touching is wonderful- warm embraces, lingering brushes, harsh hits, surprising grabs. I'm not on the defensive when I know who is around me and all sorts of touching is great.
So, when I was at the gym the other day, my trainer (who is a woman because, yeah, I admit I'm just more comfortable with that) called over the big-boss-man to ask for help working out this jumping muscle issue I was having. He put his hand full on my pelvis between my hipbones (God, his hand was large, like a baseball mitt) and it felt far too close to my vulva, even though it probably wasn't.
He was just measuring something because he calculated a few things and moved his hand around, and then he pressed into a particular spot on my upper thigh. Wouldn't you know, the tiny muscle in my lower leg stopped twitching immediately! That part was kind of cool. However, the fact that this guy that I didn't really know (I had talked to him a few times before and he seemed nice) was all up in my private business kind of freaked me out.
It reminded me of my first year in college, before I came out, when girls would grab at my boobs or other body parts at parties. There was one girl who would constantly sit on my lap and slip her bra off underneath her tank while hovering her breasts in front of my face (at multiple parties) all as an act to get guys to pay attention to her. (I didn't mind her so much as she never groped me, just sort of got into my personal space) There was this unspoken rule that we were all girls and our bodies were all communal property. If it enticed a guy into a bedroom for one of them it was even better. But gay or not, it's not any more okay for a random girl to grope me than it is for a guy. If I don't like you, if I don't know you, it's an unwanted advance.
Sometimes I can meet a person and get comfortable with him/her/z in less than five minutes. Other times it takes weeks, months, years, and occasionally I never get comfortable with that person. Some people have a vibe that I can never quite get over. Some strangers never feel like strangers, and some people I've known my whole life still give me the creeps.
The point is: my breasts, my body, is my property, and the ability to touch it is not a right you are entitled to, it's a permission I give you. It's a trust I bestow you with.
Don't abuse it.
Oct 1, 2012
Lez Get Real
Okay, I want to talk about something that I'm not sure many people talk about, mostly because it's a little uncomfortable.
Do you go the restroom in groups?
Seriously. The whole taking-other-people-with-me-to-pee thing is sometimes necessary to avoid becoming a social outcast, but I have never felt comfortable with it. The whole idea of someone being able to hear every move I make in a stall half an inch from someone else is a little creepy.
When I was ten my best friend liked to come into the bathroom with me (like the ones in our houses) and would fiddle around in front of the mirror while I tried my hardest to ignore the fact that she was there and simultaneously keep her talking so she couldn't hear me pee.
Those were some of the most uncomfortable moments of my life. But I loved her in the way only best friends can (the sleep in the same bed for three weeks straight, borrow clothes so you wouldn't have to go home, and cry when your parents ripped you apart after a month and forced you to sleep alone in your own bed type of love) so I let her do whatever she wanted.
However, I still get bladder shy when I feel like someone is listening in. Is this normal? Men's public restrooms have urinals, no stalls necessary! They just whip it out like "whatever" and it's fine, but if I feel like someone is within 30 feet all urge to pee just dissipates.
So lately whenever I visit my mom, I've noticed she'll linger outside the door of the bathroom when I'm inside. She'll answer a text message or write a note or talk to herself or god-knows-what else, but I feel like I'm on Vomit Watch 2012.
Never mind that I've never enjoyed throwing up and my issues with anorexia are totally different than bulimia, but I feel as if she's purposefully keeping an ear out for me. Which, naturally, makes it hard to find time to pee! I don't care if she's my mother, I still have this weird aversion.
Am I nuts? Is she really just there by chance? Is she coming from a good and helpful place? (I don't doubt this one at all.)
More importantly, do you feel this way? Or do you invite your friends into the bathroom with you and one person straightens her hair while you pee? It's not about being naked. I don't care if friends are in the room while I shower- it's the privacy of the act that I wish to keep intact.
P.S. Someone explain full parameters of NSFW- is it only sexual, or is it stuff like this? Because I'm never sure but I thought I should give fair warning if you don't want your boss to know you're reading about some girl's insecurities about being in the restroom with other people.
Do you go the restroom in groups?
Seriously. The whole taking-other-people-with-me-to-pee thing is sometimes necessary to avoid becoming a social outcast, but I have never felt comfortable with it. The whole idea of someone being able to hear every move I make in a stall half an inch from someone else is a little creepy.
When I was ten my best friend liked to come into the bathroom with me (like the ones in our houses) and would fiddle around in front of the mirror while I tried my hardest to ignore the fact that she was there and simultaneously keep her talking so she couldn't hear me pee.
Those were some of the most uncomfortable moments of my life. But I loved her in the way only best friends can (the sleep in the same bed for three weeks straight, borrow clothes so you wouldn't have to go home, and cry when your parents ripped you apart after a month and forced you to sleep alone in your own bed type of love) so I let her do whatever she wanted.
However, I still get bladder shy when I feel like someone is listening in. Is this normal? Men's public restrooms have urinals, no stalls necessary! They just whip it out like "whatever" and it's fine, but if I feel like someone is within 30 feet all urge to pee just dissipates.
So lately whenever I visit my mom, I've noticed she'll linger outside the door of the bathroom when I'm inside. She'll answer a text message or write a note or talk to herself or god-knows-what else, but I feel like I'm on Vomit Watch 2012.
Never mind that I've never enjoyed throwing up and my issues with anorexia are totally different than bulimia, but I feel as if she's purposefully keeping an ear out for me. Which, naturally, makes it hard to find time to pee! I don't care if she's my mother, I still have this weird aversion.
Am I nuts? Is she really just there by chance? Is she coming from a good and helpful place? (I don't doubt this one at all.)
More importantly, do you feel this way? Or do you invite your friends into the bathroom with you and one person straightens her hair while you pee? It's not about being naked. I don't care if friends are in the room while I shower- it's the privacy of the act that I wish to keep intact.
P.S. Someone explain full parameters of NSFW- is it only sexual, or is it stuff like this? Because I'm never sure but I thought I should give fair warning if you don't want your boss to know you're reading about some girl's insecurities about being in the restroom with other people.
Sep 29, 2012
Sexual Objectification: Part 1
I like to be sexually objectified. Except that I don't. Not in what that term really means. Have you ever looked it up?
Objectification: depersonalization - representing a human being as a physical thing deprived of personal qualities or individuality;
I even found this from a Stanford article:
Objectification is a notion central to feminist theory. It can be roughly defined as the seeing and/or treating a person, usually a woman, as an object. In this entry, the focus is primarily on sexual objectification, objectification occurring in the sexual realm. Martha Nussbaum (1995, 257) has identified seven features that are involved in the idea of treating a person as an object:
Point being: I don't like the depersonalization aspect of objectification. I love that I am an intelligent, opinionated, respectful, witty woman. I love when people recognize those qualities in me, and I don't want those qualities to be lost or pushed aside so I am viewed purely as an object to be used for sexual gratification. I refuse to be treated "as if I lack the capacity to speak."
But I do want those wonderful qualities of mine to step into the background occasionally. I find it thrilling, arousing, to have all thoughts of how sweet or smart I am fly out the window because of an all consuming sexual desire. Perhaps this is because I have always felt pretty, not sexy. Perhaps it is because I have always felt body conscious. But there is something about when someone turns to me with that heat in the eyes that makes me tingle all over.
Even when I'm not attracted to that person, I'll find myself doing little things to keep up the crush. I'll dress nicer, keep up my makeup, make an effort. My smiles are a little slower, my eyes a little warmer, my blouse a little more low cut.
Is it teasing? Is it wrong? Am I not supposed to do it? I've never really seen the problem in looking my best. As long as I'm not flirting I don't feel like I'm leading anyone on. I'm careful to not give the wrong impression, careful to not say anything that would be interpreted as interested in a date, but I'm a flirtatious person by normally, so I have to cut back and I can't say I've never accidentally slipped. What do you think? Is the body language too much? Am I being unfair to the other person?
Am I, in turn, objectifying/using someone else as he/she/z sexualizes me, in order to boost my own self esteem? Do you think this is a better or worse form of objectification? Do you enjoy when your body is sexualized by strangers, acquaintances, your partner? Or do you prefer that your mental attributes be your sexiest qualities?
Objectification: depersonalization - representing a human being as a physical thing deprived of personal qualities or individuality;
I even found this from a Stanford article:
Objectification is a notion central to feminist theory. It can be roughly defined as the seeing and/or treating a person, usually a woman, as an object. In this entry, the focus is primarily on sexual objectification, objectification occurring in the sexual realm. Martha Nussbaum (1995, 257) has identified seven features that are involved in the idea of treating a person as an object:
- instrumentality: the treatment of a person as a tool for the objectifier's purposes;
- denial of autonomy: the treatment of a person as lacking in autonomy and self-determination;
- inertness: the treatment of a person as lacking in agency, and perhaps also in activity;
- fungibility: the treatment of a person as interchangeable with other objects;
- violability: the treatment of a person as lacking in boundary-integrity;
- ownership: the treatment of a person as something that is owned by another (can be bought or sold);
- denial of subjectivity: the treatment of a person as something whose experiences and feelings (if any) need not be taken into account.
- reduction to body: the treatment of a person as identified with their body, or body parts;
- reduction to appearance: the treatment of a person primarily in terms of how they look, or how they appear to the senses;
- silencing: the treatment of a person as if they are silent, lacking the capacity to speak.
Point being: I don't like the depersonalization aspect of objectification. I love that I am an intelligent, opinionated, respectful, witty woman. I love when people recognize those qualities in me, and I don't want those qualities to be lost or pushed aside so I am viewed purely as an object to be used for sexual gratification. I refuse to be treated "as if I lack the capacity to speak."
But I do want those wonderful qualities of mine to step into the background occasionally. I find it thrilling, arousing, to have all thoughts of how sweet or smart I am fly out the window because of an all consuming sexual desire. Perhaps this is because I have always felt pretty, not sexy. Perhaps it is because I have always felt body conscious. But there is something about when someone turns to me with that heat in the eyes that makes me tingle all over.
Even when I'm not attracted to that person, I'll find myself doing little things to keep up the crush. I'll dress nicer, keep up my makeup, make an effort. My smiles are a little slower, my eyes a little warmer, my blouse a little more low cut.
Is it teasing? Is it wrong? Am I not supposed to do it? I've never really seen the problem in looking my best. As long as I'm not flirting I don't feel like I'm leading anyone on. I'm careful to not give the wrong impression, careful to not say anything that would be interpreted as interested in a date, but I'm a flirtatious person by normally, so I have to cut back and I can't say I've never accidentally slipped. What do you think? Is the body language too much? Am I being unfair to the other person?
Am I, in turn, objectifying/using someone else as he/she/z sexualizes me, in order to boost my own self esteem? Do you think this is a better or worse form of objectification? Do you enjoy when your body is sexualized by strangers, acquaintances, your partner? Or do you prefer that your mental attributes be your sexiest qualities?
Sep 21, 2012
Stopgaps
Crap. I went away for two years- just stopped writing. I'm so sorry. I don't think that I can do anything or say anything that would make you understand. When I started this blog *gulp* three long years ago, I was still so broken. Every time I tried to write about what was truly eating at me, I couldn't. I put it off and put it off because I was still in love with, still heartbroken over, the first girl to bring down all my barriers.
By starting this blog, I tried to give myself a space to explore all the other things that were going on inside me. All of my daily gender struggles, my issues with my sexuality- I turned to you as a community for strength, guidance and compassion, and I'm thankful for all you've given me.
When I left, I had just had surgery. It was hard for me to eat, physically, and I could feel the old habits of my anorexia creeping back up on me. While I've never been diagnosed or hospitalized, anorexia is never very far from my mind. The opportunity handed to me on a silver platter, to relapse with a perfectly good and unquestionable excuse, was too hard to pass up. I lost forty pounds. I felt amazing. As with all things, it was a cycle. I had to eat eventually and am now back up to my former weight. It's been an interesting two years. I've dated, I've learned, I've grown, I've started to heal, and I think I've become more comfortable with myself.
All those thoughts that were constantly plaguing me about who I was, about labeling myself, have faded into the background. I am who I am and I enjoy the person I've become, for the most part. There are always things I'm going to want to change about myself, but for now I'm not so focused on how I want to be labeled in a relationship or should be labeled. I just act, and let things go from there.
When I started the blog I said I was going to write about being gay, because it was so new and overwhelming that I felt obsessed with it. I feel like it overshadowed all else that I was, and sometimes it still does, but more and more sides of me are stepping into the spotlight, and that's the way I want it to be.
If you'd read my initial post from last night, you know that I had a relationship end. She was a sweet, charming, raunchy girl that made me laugh constantly. I don't know why I let her go, but I think that part of it was that I'm not quite healed. So I've started something that I ached to do a long time ago, but never had the courage or conviction.
I've started writing about first:girl. I feel like I've referred to her enough that I owe you my story, and maybe I owe it to myself to tell it. It doesn't hurt me anymore to think about it. I still occasionally get shivers when I think about her, or feel a warm glow when I remember her smile, but it was four years ago- long enough to feel like it happened to another person. I'm so different now than I was then.
I hope, in telling it, the remnant of longing will disappear, and I can finally shut that door. And perhaps all of you will finally feel like you know me as more than just words on a backlit screen, because every part of who I used to be was wrapped up in her. I want you to know me. I'm so sorry I disappeared, but I'm back and baring my soul for the world.
By starting this blog, I tried to give myself a space to explore all the other things that were going on inside me. All of my daily gender struggles, my issues with my sexuality- I turned to you as a community for strength, guidance and compassion, and I'm thankful for all you've given me.
When I left, I had just had surgery. It was hard for me to eat, physically, and I could feel the old habits of my anorexia creeping back up on me. While I've never been diagnosed or hospitalized, anorexia is never very far from my mind. The opportunity handed to me on a silver platter, to relapse with a perfectly good and unquestionable excuse, was too hard to pass up. I lost forty pounds. I felt amazing. As with all things, it was a cycle. I had to eat eventually and am now back up to my former weight. It's been an interesting two years. I've dated, I've learned, I've grown, I've started to heal, and I think I've become more comfortable with myself.
All those thoughts that were constantly plaguing me about who I was, about labeling myself, have faded into the background. I am who I am and I enjoy the person I've become, for the most part. There are always things I'm going to want to change about myself, but for now I'm not so focused on how I want to be labeled in a relationship or should be labeled. I just act, and let things go from there.
When I started the blog I said I was going to write about being gay, because it was so new and overwhelming that I felt obsessed with it. I feel like it overshadowed all else that I was, and sometimes it still does, but more and more sides of me are stepping into the spotlight, and that's the way I want it to be.
If you'd read my initial post from last night, you know that I had a relationship end. She was a sweet, charming, raunchy girl that made me laugh constantly. I don't know why I let her go, but I think that part of it was that I'm not quite healed. So I've started something that I ached to do a long time ago, but never had the courage or conviction.
I've started writing about first:girl. I feel like I've referred to her enough that I owe you my story, and maybe I owe it to myself to tell it. It doesn't hurt me anymore to think about it. I still occasionally get shivers when I think about her, or feel a warm glow when I remember her smile, but it was four years ago- long enough to feel like it happened to another person. I'm so different now than I was then.
I hope, in telling it, the remnant of longing will disappear, and I can finally shut that door. And perhaps all of you will finally feel like you know me as more than just words on a backlit screen, because every part of who I used to be was wrapped up in her. I want you to know me. I'm so sorry I disappeared, but I'm back and baring my soul for the world.
Oct 4, 2010
More Ugly/ Truth
I have a confession. I may have mentioned it before, or maybe I left it in a dark corner of my mind to deal with at some other point in time. I have dealt with an eating disorder for the last seven years of my life. For the first three years I was in denial. I was still eating, so obviously I didn't have anorexia.
I never got down to 80 pounds, I never looked like a skeleton, but I was depriving my body of the nutrition it deserved. After I dropped to a size one, and mind you, I'm built like a Viking, so a size one was pretty spectacular, I realized something was wrong. I wasn't eating the foods I liked, wasn't eating hardly anything at all. I forced myself to eat, slowly, gradually, stretching my stomach so I wouldn't throw up if I ate normal sized portions.
After three and half years of depriving myself, everything tasted so good. I went on a two year binge. I gained weight without realizing. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a size one girl when I clearly wasn't. I still see that girl in the mirror, and don't understand why I can't see what I look like now.
Last year was a turning point. I ran out of money, and eating out less often helped me drop a few pounds, temporarily. I came home to take care of my family, and could afford to eat like I had been. I gained back the fifteen-twenty pounds I had lost.
Last week was another turning point. I had to have a minor surgery, and it effected my ability to eat. I've been eating next to nothing for a little over a week and already lost five pounds. I feel better than I have in a long time. I feel more energetic, feel the urge to exercise and take care of myself. The way I felt when I was anorexic.
I can feel where this road is headed. I look ahead and see where I will be walking in a few weeks, a few months. I understand, intellectually, why anorexia is wrong and unhealthy, but it always feels so right, so comfortable. I feel happier when I choose not to eat.
I see where this is going and will do nothing to stop myself. Anorexia has best my best friend for so long, been my coping mechanism, been the only rock I have to lean upon, and even though it is unhealthy, it makes me feel good. Right now, after so much rejection, so much pain and stress, I need to feel good. I need to feel this. I wish I could be stronger, but the reality is, I am not.
I never got down to 80 pounds, I never looked like a skeleton, but I was depriving my body of the nutrition it deserved. After I dropped to a size one, and mind you, I'm built like a Viking, so a size one was pretty spectacular, I realized something was wrong. I wasn't eating the foods I liked, wasn't eating hardly anything at all. I forced myself to eat, slowly, gradually, stretching my stomach so I wouldn't throw up if I ate normal sized portions.
After three and half years of depriving myself, everything tasted so good. I went on a two year binge. I gained weight without realizing. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a size one girl when I clearly wasn't. I still see that girl in the mirror, and don't understand why I can't see what I look like now.
Last year was a turning point. I ran out of money, and eating out less often helped me drop a few pounds, temporarily. I came home to take care of my family, and could afford to eat like I had been. I gained back the fifteen-twenty pounds I had lost.
Last week was another turning point. I had to have a minor surgery, and it effected my ability to eat. I've been eating next to nothing for a little over a week and already lost five pounds. I feel better than I have in a long time. I feel more energetic, feel the urge to exercise and take care of myself. The way I felt when I was anorexic.
I can feel where this road is headed. I look ahead and see where I will be walking in a few weeks, a few months. I understand, intellectually, why anorexia is wrong and unhealthy, but it always feels so right, so comfortable. I feel happier when I choose not to eat.
I see where this is going and will do nothing to stop myself. Anorexia has best my best friend for so long, been my coping mechanism, been the only rock I have to lean upon, and even though it is unhealthy, it makes me feel good. Right now, after so much rejection, so much pain and stress, I need to feel good. I need to feel this. I wish I could be stronger, but the reality is, I am not.
Dec 23, 2009
Terms/Respect
There are certain terms that I love, that make me feel special, sexy, sweet, adored, etc. I have such an attachment to these words that when they are used, they feel like endearments, even when they are not addressed to me.
M:girl has a habit of calling me Miss. Not Miss Tabby or whatever, just Miss. I used to love it when I would wake up in the morning and the first thing I would hear is "Good morning, Miss." Therefore I've taken up that term and started passing it on.
I love being called Miss, Lady, Girl (as in "Hey, Girl, how are you?"), etc. I love the phrases "my Lady Friend" and "My Lady" (as in "my lady is coming over tonight"). I like the feeling of possession. Tegan Quin writes a lot about "you're not mine" and "you were all mine, I was yours right?" which really strikes a chord with me. She also tends to write from a more traditional pants side of the relationship when possession is involved, which I strongly identify with.
First:girl used to greet me with a teasing version of Tila Tequila's "Hey, Girl, hey!" which always made my day in such a strange way. I also have this odd love for when derogatory terms are thrown into ordinary conversation (such as a "Whatever, bitch, you know you love me," kind of retort). Of course, that was part of my relationship with first:girl and I would never use it in my relationship with m:girl because that's not how we work. She calls me miss, and I call her miss and my lady so bitch doesn't really fit in there.
I don't like the whole "baby, shorty, mami, honey bear," side of things. The poo-bear and pumpkin saccharine-sweet terms tend to get on my nerves very fast.
I think part of the reason that I love the terms I do, is that no matter how masculine I end up looking or acting, the constant reminders of my femininity are gratifying. I like that I can walk around dressed like a boy and M:girl will still call me miss. Like I can be female without having to act like it because it's an integral part of who I am. Like I don't have to put on a show of being femme to be female. I can be feminine by just being me. The terms I love are more old fashioned, and many years ago were terms of respect. I think hidden within them is the trace of respect and honor that they used to be endowed with. When I am called Lady, it's like the person who is using the term has a respect for me, has a love for me, and is giving me power in the knowledge that I have that old fashioned respect.
I also enjoy such words as bird, doll, doll face, darling, foxy lady, chica, etc.
Missus was just mentioned to me, which calls to me with the same feeling of love and respect that I was speaking of. I have a feeling this will become a new favorite of mine as well.
What are your favorite terms and why?
M:girl has a habit of calling me Miss. Not Miss Tabby or whatever, just Miss. I used to love it when I would wake up in the morning and the first thing I would hear is "Good morning, Miss." Therefore I've taken up that term and started passing it on.
I love being called Miss, Lady, Girl (as in "Hey, Girl, how are you?"), etc. I love the phrases "my Lady Friend" and "My Lady" (as in "my lady is coming over tonight"). I like the feeling of possession. Tegan Quin writes a lot about "you're not mine" and "you were all mine, I was yours right?" which really strikes a chord with me. She also tends to write from a more traditional pants side of the relationship when possession is involved, which I strongly identify with.
First:girl used to greet me with a teasing version of Tila Tequila's "Hey, Girl, hey!" which always made my day in such a strange way. I also have this odd love for when derogatory terms are thrown into ordinary conversation (such as a "Whatever, bitch, you know you love me," kind of retort). Of course, that was part of my relationship with first:girl and I would never use it in my relationship with m:girl because that's not how we work. She calls me miss, and I call her miss and my lady so bitch doesn't really fit in there.
I don't like the whole "baby, shorty, mami, honey bear," side of things. The poo-bear and pumpkin saccharine-sweet terms tend to get on my nerves very fast.
I think part of the reason that I love the terms I do, is that no matter how masculine I end up looking or acting, the constant reminders of my femininity are gratifying. I like that I can walk around dressed like a boy and M:girl will still call me miss. Like I can be female without having to act like it because it's an integral part of who I am. Like I don't have to put on a show of being femme to be female. I can be feminine by just being me. The terms I love are more old fashioned, and many years ago were terms of respect. I think hidden within them is the trace of respect and honor that they used to be endowed with. When I am called Lady, it's like the person who is using the term has a respect for me, has a love for me, and is giving me power in the knowledge that I have that old fashioned respect.
I also enjoy such words as bird, doll, doll face, darling, foxy lady, chica, etc.
Missus was just mentioned to me, which calls to me with the same feeling of love and respect that I was speaking of. I have a feeling this will become a new favorite of mine as well.
What are your favorite terms and why?
Dec 22, 2009
Homework/Discovery
I decided to write a separate post for this, because whilst the other one is somewhat whiny, this is about discovery, and the need to separate those two topics is bred deep within me.
Sinclair posted about the homework which she gives to Kristen, which in turn sparked Alphafemme's different kind of homework (which I think is truly brilliant).
I decided to jump on the bandwagon and discover what I feel most comfortable with about my sexuality. I feel like the only way I will ever grow and discover what I like is to push myself. This week's topics were femininity and self appreciation. I was walking around my room undressing to put on pajamas, when I caught a glimpse of myself in my full length mirror. The light on my nightstand was on, and it cast shadows across my body that hypnotized me and stopped me where I stood.
I've never been very proud of my body, never loved it for what it is, but just then I was enamored. I was caught up in the curve of my hips, the slope of my breasts, the shape of my tummy, the length of my legs, the strength of my calves. For the first time I felt how soft my skin was, felt the thickness of my hair, the silkiness of my neck, the satin feel of my shoulder blades.
I realized how perfectly my ass is shaped, how my ankles invite the brush of a finger, how the dimples in the small of my back invoke happiness and sweet memories, how the curve of my back begs to be cupped, how my spine is slightly crooked and juts out from my skin like a message in braille, showing the reader a map of my body. I noticed my jawline, the softness of my figure, the way my nipples respond to touch and how hard my stomach muscles are underneath all the cushion.
For the first time, I drank myself in in the half light, excited by what I saw, delighted in who I was and what I looked like.
This sparked in me the need to take care of myself. The need to pamper myself and rejoice in the beauty of my own body. It was enough to bring out the coconut butter that I used to adore, enough to make sure I used lotion under my makeup and put on an extra coat of mascara. From this spark and the aforementioned posts about homework, I decided to assign some for myself.
I wanted to be high femme for a week. I spent half an hour curling my hair every day. I bought new lipstick, eyeliner, mascara, and used them religiously. I wore earrings again, and a necklace that spoke to me with simple elegance and quiet beauty. I wore high heels and dresses, and everything matched. I brought coats out of hiding and coordinated them with my outfits. I wore underwear that made me feel sexy, and I didn't wear bras, which also made me feel sexy.
While it did take up more time in my morning routine, I rather enjoy the feeling of primping for myself. Of feeling sexy for myself.
While I won't go into detail for fear of revealing way more that you wanted to know, I finally had an orgasm. Talk about being excited about the prospect of sex all over again. Now that I know that I can at least give myself one, the possibilities of sex are now even more appealing than they used to be. It may not become a common occurrence, but to know that at least I can, at least I won't go my whole life without one, it's kind of a relief. I don't expect it to happen again anytime soon but...here's to hoping, yeah?
I feel like maybe I need to push myself to the butch extreme to figure out what I like about each and find a happy balance, but I'm enjoying the femme side so much that I don't want to let it go yet, even though I know I don't want to keep it up forever.
What are other ways I can push myself in this area? What do you consider as feminine qualities that I should experience?
Sinclair posted about the homework which she gives to Kristen, which in turn sparked Alphafemme's different kind of homework (which I think is truly brilliant).
I decided to jump on the bandwagon and discover what I feel most comfortable with about my sexuality. I feel like the only way I will ever grow and discover what I like is to push myself. This week's topics were femininity and self appreciation. I was walking around my room undressing to put on pajamas, when I caught a glimpse of myself in my full length mirror. The light on my nightstand was on, and it cast shadows across my body that hypnotized me and stopped me where I stood.
I've never been very proud of my body, never loved it for what it is, but just then I was enamored. I was caught up in the curve of my hips, the slope of my breasts, the shape of my tummy, the length of my legs, the strength of my calves. For the first time I felt how soft my skin was, felt the thickness of my hair, the silkiness of my neck, the satin feel of my shoulder blades.
I realized how perfectly my ass is shaped, how my ankles invite the brush of a finger, how the dimples in the small of my back invoke happiness and sweet memories, how the curve of my back begs to be cupped, how my spine is slightly crooked and juts out from my skin like a message in braille, showing the reader a map of my body. I noticed my jawline, the softness of my figure, the way my nipples respond to touch and how hard my stomach muscles are underneath all the cushion.
For the first time, I drank myself in in the half light, excited by what I saw, delighted in who I was and what I looked like.
This sparked in me the need to take care of myself. The need to pamper myself and rejoice in the beauty of my own body. It was enough to bring out the coconut butter that I used to adore, enough to make sure I used lotion under my makeup and put on an extra coat of mascara. From this spark and the aforementioned posts about homework, I decided to assign some for myself.
I wanted to be high femme for a week. I spent half an hour curling my hair every day. I bought new lipstick, eyeliner, mascara, and used them religiously. I wore earrings again, and a necklace that spoke to me with simple elegance and quiet beauty. I wore high heels and dresses, and everything matched. I brought coats out of hiding and coordinated them with my outfits. I wore underwear that made me feel sexy, and I didn't wear bras, which also made me feel sexy.
While it did take up more time in my morning routine, I rather enjoy the feeling of primping for myself. Of feeling sexy for myself.
While I won't go into detail for fear of revealing way more that you wanted to know, I finally had an orgasm. Talk about being excited about the prospect of sex all over again. Now that I know that I can at least give myself one, the possibilities of sex are now even more appealing than they used to be. It may not become a common occurrence, but to know that at least I can, at least I won't go my whole life without one, it's kind of a relief. I don't expect it to happen again anytime soon but...here's to hoping, yeah?
I feel like maybe I need to push myself to the butch extreme to figure out what I like about each and find a happy balance, but I'm enjoying the femme side so much that I don't want to let it go yet, even though I know I don't want to keep it up forever.
What are other ways I can push myself in this area? What do you consider as feminine qualities that I should experience?
Dec 16, 2009
Babies/Schooling
My sister had her seventh baby yesterday, which means that the past couple days I have been taking care of the other six while her and her husband were at the hospital. This has been an ongoing thing since she was pregnant with her second child, and it gives me a chance to bond with each little one while the parents are away.
This time was no exception. The youngest girl is adorable, and at only 2 years old she was the sweetest thing! (She also prefers to eat vegetables over both meat and candy, which I find fascinating!) I had a great time with all the kids, but am happy to come home and get some rest. However, this trip in particular opened my eyes to a lot of things:
1. I don't want to have loads of kids. And it's going to take a specific kind of partner to make me want to have kids at all.
2. My butt is way bigger than it looks in the mirror. My niece was videotaping and she panned past me just over my butt and I was not very happy about it.
3. Kids come up with the funniest phrases to not say bad words! As we were driving, a bunch of teenaged boys j-walked in front of us and so I said "stupid boys", but my niece blurted afterward "Stupid Apples!" which, of course, sounds like "stupid assholes".
4. New babies are adorable, but they only stay little for a few days. And then they get bigger. And eventually, you're going to have 7 teenagers and then life is not so fun.
5. Disney/Pixar movies are made for adults. It was my second time watching Up! (which still makes me cry; especially the musical montage near the beginning which astounds me with how much pictures and music can really stir up emotions in a person), and my first time seeing Wall-e which has a lot of political undertones and a lot of really beautiful things about love.
It also made me realize how much I really need to go back to school. I'm not going to be happy with any job I can get with a certificate from trade school. I need my BA. So, back to school it is.
This time was no exception. The youngest girl is adorable, and at only 2 years old she was the sweetest thing! (She also prefers to eat vegetables over both meat and candy, which I find fascinating!) I had a great time with all the kids, but am happy to come home and get some rest. However, this trip in particular opened my eyes to a lot of things:
1. I don't want to have loads of kids. And it's going to take a specific kind of partner to make me want to have kids at all.
2. My butt is way bigger than it looks in the mirror. My niece was videotaping and she panned past me just over my butt and I was not very happy about it.
3. Kids come up with the funniest phrases to not say bad words! As we were driving, a bunch of teenaged boys j-walked in front of us and so I said "stupid boys", but my niece blurted afterward "Stupid Apples!" which, of course, sounds like "stupid assholes".
4. New babies are adorable, but they only stay little for a few days. And then they get bigger. And eventually, you're going to have 7 teenagers and then life is not so fun.
5. Disney/Pixar movies are made for adults. It was my second time watching Up! (which still makes me cry; especially the musical montage near the beginning which astounds me with how much pictures and music can really stir up emotions in a person), and my first time seeing Wall-e which has a lot of political undertones and a lot of really beautiful things about love.
It also made me realize how much I really need to go back to school. I'm not going to be happy with any job I can get with a certificate from trade school. I need my BA. So, back to school it is.
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