Beautiful Like Me

In my constant quest for self-acceptance and self-love, I am trying to focus on the things I love about myself, not the things I hate. 

In that vein, I present a list of ten things I love about my face, my body, my physical self. 

1. The shape of my eyes, I like to think they're slightly exotic.

2. My hair, in college my friends all called it my "Victoria's Secret locks" because it's so big and voluminous and bodacious. 

3. My natural, universe-gifted breasts. I've yo-yoed a lot with my weight and yet they've managed to stay pretty darn perky.

4. My skin, it's naturally pale and porcelain and fairly zit-free, and I try to keep it that way.

5. My feet, they're (usually) sample sized so I can try on the shoes on the floor in stores which makes shopping very easy. Plus, they're cute and wee. 

6. My height. Not too short, not too tall. Juuuust right, Goldilocks-style.

7. My moles and freckles. I have one underneath my left eyebrow that I find particularly cute, and a smattering on that cheek in the shape of an "A", and an arch on my chest. I love them all.

8. My cheekbones. The more weight I lose, the more prominent they are, and it reminds me of when I was a kid and I used to purse my lips and say "this is what I'll look like when I'm adult and beautiful!"

9. The scar on my left wrist from when I sliced open my artery when I was a toddler. It's always been a part of me and I love the familiarity.

10. My smile. It's big and it's bright and it's usually plastered goofily all over my face, genuinely and sincerely. I like it.

Real Beauty

These have been all over the Internet recently, for good reason.

Watch, then come back.

Beautiful, right? It made me think of how I'd talk about myself, how a sketch from that description would look. "Chubby cheeks, wide nose, young face, frizzy hair." And how different would it be from someone else's perception of me? Beauty is so very much about perspective, and I think we could all use a little shift in that sometimes.

Then today, I saw this.

WIN. It's funny 'cause it's truuuue.

Dangerous Curves Ahead

Perhaps this post may be a bit NSFW if your boss has a problem with hot bodies in bikinis.

If not, carry on.

Actually, wait, one more thing:

I don't subscribe to the idea of "thinspo" or "thinspiration". For years I'd try to motivate myself by making my computer wallpaper a collage of skinny little minnies, or taping pictures of Victoria's Secret models to my mirror. Even up through last year I'd still pin pictures of hot chicks with a thigh gap. But you know, all that worship of an ideal does is make you feel bad about yourself, because for most of us normal people, we're never going to have a six pack, biceps and an air-brushed ass.

I'm never going to look like this. But if I work hard, eat right, and embrace my natural curves, maybe one day I'll look like one of this gorgeous, healthy, bodacious babes.

Date Prep 101

GUESS WHAT?

I have a first date tonight with a THIRD ginger. Yes, I just attract them like flies. I shall call this one...Ginger Squared, or GS. (Yes, as pointed out by my BFF, technically three gingers is Ginger CUBED, but Ginger Squared sounds better, and that second one doesn't count anyway since I never actually met him.)

So, in case you weren't aware, being a girl is hard. That is, if you're the kind of girl who subscribes to patriarchal social norms, tries to fulfill unreasonable expectations of beauty and femininity, and is easily manipulated by advertising and media...which I am. I most definitely am.

And...I just like to be purty.

I'm definitely not a high maintenance girl, in my humble opinion. I often leave the house often without makeup or a shower or matching shoes, and on a normal day I usually spend 20 minutes max prettifying. Even with my current "self-esteem challenge" I'm out of bed and out the door in way, way under an hour. But you know, I shave and wax my shit. I spend excessive amounts of money on beauty products. I wear perfume. And shirts without stains.

Usually.

I would say on a scale of 1-10, my normal effort expenditure to make myself pretty is maybe a 5? Perhaps a 6? I care, and I try, but...I don't try very hard.

When I am prepping for a date, however, I ratchet that shit up to 10. 11. 12. I pay more attention to my face when getting ready to meet a guy than I do any other time in my life.

Except maybe when I'm high.

Not that I've ever been high.

Moving right along...

FIRST!  One must consider the outfit.

Or maybe not.

Then, accessories.

Of course, perfume.

And then there's my luscious locks. I have a lot of hair, and I rarely blow dry it, but I will for special events because it really does look soooo much better. And I can't stop touching it.

But then, sometimes...

Of course, I have my moments of self doubt...

So then I give myself a pep talk...

And make sure everything is in place...

Then hit the road, calling my mama on the way to the bar for a final boost. 

Thoughts from the shallow end.

Guys...I'm aging.

Rapidly.

It's fucking Benjamin Button in reverse up in this bidniz.

Honestly, until a few months ago, I really thought I looked just the same as I did in college. I look in the mirror and see the same slight-babyface staring back at me as always.

But no.

This babyface is decaying.

First of all, I really need to stop raising my eyebrows all the time. Every picture of me. I clearly think it's cute, but it's just not, and overnight I have developed PERMAWRINKLES. WRINKLES THAT DON'T GO AWAY. My forehead is notebook paper.

What the fuck is that bullshit?

And my eyes. In the space of a few weeks, it's like crows feet AHOY! I must stop smiling, or making any facial expressions at all. No more happiness.

I'M MELTING.

Yes, I realize everyone over the age of 25 is hating on me right now. Because I'm fucking obnoxious. But that's okay, I'm always obnoxious, so you really should be used to it at this point.

I need a case of eye cream and some Botox. Stat.