I recently read a post from The K Is No Longer Silent. If you have not read, please go do so now, or this might not make any sense. Don’t you worry, I’ll just settle comfortably on my sofa with a cuppa and my current book until you return.
That woman’s honesty ruffled my feathers. I scoffed with indignation and anger that she should feel she has to go to such lengths to be acceptable. Pin her ears back? Please tell me this is a joke. How can society be so cruel?
But I was reading this over my lunch hour at work and was shifting uncomfortably in my chair because I was wearing leggings. I don’t normally. I don’t even particularly care for pants.
The leggings cut into my stomach which creates that unsightly extra roll of flesh. So if I feel like wearing them I also wear spanks over them to help smooth it out. I mean, I wear them sometimes for the warmth, but the comfort of warmth is traded in for the organ compressing spanks.
And there I was, shaking my fist at society for the injustices placed upon men and women (but mostly women) and making such a thoughtful and interesting person feel insecure. And I started shaking my fist at it for me, too.
I get, with some frequency, wonderfully sweet compliments about how inspiring I am because I have never been afraid to be myself. I suppose this has something to do with my verbosity, occasional loudness, and my not entirely mainstream sense of fashion. The compliments always come as a shock.
I have not frequently seen myself in this manner (but I'm trying to live up to it).
Who I am is the girl who is squeezing her organs together because that extra bump from my leggings REALLY bothers me. I have enough bumps to be getting on with. The good news is, I mostly like all the other bumps. But there are other things. Are you ready? Cuz I’m going to take a deep breath and just delve into some of the nitty gritty ways I let society tell me how I should look so that I can feel good about myself.
I have been plucking my eye brows since I was… 12? I think around 12.
I had orthodontia to eliminate my Madonna gap between my two front teeth when I was in high school. And two caps put onto my natural vampire teeth ( I still regret this).
I wax my upper lip.
And then there are the things that I have somewhat done for my health, but was still weighted (hehe) heavily upon what society would think of me if I didn’t/don’t.
I had an oral surgeon shove a long metal spike in my skull so I could have an implant on a very visible tooth.
I had a breast reduction my senior year in college. This is listed among one of the best things I could ever do for my health and self-esteem (and I would do it again without a second thought), but it was mostly prompted, at the time, by unrequited love.
I have lost 50 lbs. This is also for the very simple reason that I was miserable feeling. Not only was I unhappy with myself, but I hurt. Getting active (and sticking to it, for the first time in my life) was the most important thing I could do. It motivated me to get everything in my life moving.
I know I will never be a sinewy marathon runner, but I am still learning to come to grips with shape. Or let’s be honest. My shape is fine, it’s the fat that bothers me.
I am on a mission to lose more weight. And I know many of your bristles might be up, like I was over Kass’s post. But what I am trying to determine, is when is my happiness dictated by how society views me and when is it dictated by how I see myself.
I am trying to NOT connect how I see myself with a number in my jeans or a letter on my shirt, because they aren’t standard sizes. Woman don’t get to pick a 34 waist and 32 inseam like men. We get to find out that dependent upon the store and the designer we can find a size 12 that falls off without a belt, but then try on a 16 and barley be able to button.
So instead of connecting with a number I have to be focused on how any certain weight, shape, fit makes me feel. And how do I want to feel? Well, oddly enough I want to feel “Fat”, or at least SOME of the definitions of fat:
1. Having too much flabby tissue; corpulent; obese
2. Wealthy; prosperous; rich
3. Plentiful; abundant
4. Dull; stupid
5. Fertile, as land
6. Animal tissue containing much of this substance; loose flesh; flabbiness
7. The richest or best part of anything
8. An overabundance or excess; superfluity
9. Action or lines in a dramatic part that permit an actor to display abilities
`dictionary.com
So I’ll continue to get up at ridiculous hours to jog, but won’t be shoving my finger down my throat to look like Kate Moss.
And the other things? Well, I certainly don’t need to wax my lip to make people like me. In fact, I don’t even know if anyone notices when I don’t. But I do it because it makes ME more comfortable .
Should Kass pin her ears? I don’t think so, but then I had my breasts surgically removed so I could get a boy to date me.
My, oh my, I’ve come a long way, but still have a way to go.
3 comments:
Go you for being honest :) I am one of those people who admire your amazing ability to inhabit this awesome place labelled Tracylea.
I, too, go back and forth between "give a fuck" and "why don't these damn trousers fit the way they used to?" Catch a glimpse of yourself in a "nice" mirror and I feel pretty good. Try clothes on in unflattering lighting in sizes that baffle me, and I feel less fantastic...
Veeery interesting topic, and perhaps one we can write about in the next exchange of letters :)
Society is so judgmental of appearances and I think you have to be very very strong to be able to go your own way and not let it get to you. But if you don't wax the lip, lose the weight or anything else just for the sake of non conforming isn't that another way that society has influenced you. If it makes YOU feel good then you should do it.
Great post. I'm glad you've eased up on your judgment of me (for your sake - doesn't hurt me).
I should have included in my "Passing For Normal" post that I very rarely pin my ears back. It hurts like hell and it makes me mad that I ever thought it was important. I just had this wild idea (U.M.A.) that it would be fun to have this piercing in the middle of my ears in case I ever wanted to pin my ears back. I thought about it for years. While I was taking care of my 96-year-old mother the last year of her life in my home, I was in a different frame of mind and on one of the rare occasions where I had some off time to do something just for myself, on a weird impulse, I went down the street and had those piercings done. It REALLY hurt for 6 months and still hurts. Even though I don't pin my tabs back, I'm glad I went ahead and did it. I like the little rings in the middle of my ears.
I don't know about you, but I had pretty heavy conditioning to care about other people's opinions. "Avoid the appearance of evil," was said often in my home. I felt like I was always on display. It's taken me years to downplay this.
I'm glad you've got a head start on the battle.
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