So first, let me point out that I know I am awesome and adorable and all that. Sometimes, I even know I am hot. But I’m not so much used to other people agreeing with me on these things. I mean, I’ve dated enough guys who have indicated as much, but they are required by social contracts to say such, right? Anyway, when my friend Sporks borrowed our friend Eric’s blog to talk about body image, I decided to do it too. Because everything Sporks does is awesome.
It’s not like my mom spent my childhood criticizing me (she waited until I hit puberty for that. And it was well-intentioned criticism, I know, as incredibly annoying as it was. You know that scene in My So-Called Life when Patty tries to help Angela get rid of a zit in the episode “The Zit?” It was like that that ALL THE TIME and way more annoying. Anyway. Sidetracked.) My mom spent a good portion of my youth telling me how pretty I am (and how smart, though that was generally followed by an exasperated plea for me to use my common sense) so I have no self esteem issues stemming from my upbringing. Which is not to say I had no self esteem issues DURING my upbringing. Oh boy, did I ever. My teeth were too crooked (how crooked is acceptably crooked? I do not know.) My boobs were too small. I was too short. I was too skinny, but my belly wasn’t flat enough.
When I went to college, my parents started worrying about my weight. I was excited to gain weight, personally, but the day that my dad dropped me off at my dorm he made a point to tell me that I need to avoid sitting down too much or I would have a big butt like my new roommate. Lots of warnings about the freshman fifteen ensued. I continued to be tiny. In my mid-20s I started actually gaining weight. My boyfriend at the time didn’t have a working oven, so we ate out at restaurants almost all the time, and as a girl who had always been able to eat whatever she wanted (and that meant lots of fried food and desserts, oooh sugar) I ended up piling on the pounds. My mother tried to gently hint around it, suggesting we have a bonding day by going to Curves, and then less gently, offering to pay for Weight Watchers. Dad wanted me to start jogging, and both of them learned to avoid the word “fat” because I’d just respond “I’m not fat.” Euphemisms used included “broad” and “wide” though, which got the same exact response.
It’s funny, because it wasn’t until a) I gained weight and b) my parents stopped telling me I was pretty, that I started to feel comfortable with myself. “You think I’m pretty? But all these things about me suck. You want me to lose weight? FUCK YOU, I AM AWESOME.” But I just assumed I was the only one thinking that. Eric and Mere have taken it upon themselves to change this by taking every opportunity to tell me how hot I am in an attempt to inure me to it. So far it still just makes me laugh, but I think it’s fun, anyway.
In derby news, here are some pics from the All Stars bout on the 25th that my friend J took, and here are the pics he took the week before at the March 18th bout. One more bout and one more Derby 101 session before the season championships and try-outs! I was feeling super lazy this morning so I just did my lunges (10!) and push ups. With the push ups, I am not sure what I should do…I can do 10 on my knees without pausing for a break. If I switch to going up on my toes, I will definitely need a break, possibly two, to get to ten. Should I keep doing push ups on my knees for another week, or start doing true push ups next week? I don’t know which is the better idea.