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Blathering --
7-28-04
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ho honestly thought that this would be a great way to sell these jeans?�
Really?� Really?� This has got to be one�of
the most unflattering pictures I have ever seen.� If they have sold
any of these, I'll be amazed.� Astonished even.
��� Don't get me wrong.� I'm a full-figured woman
(that means "fat" to those of you who don't remember the commercials for
Cross Your Heart Bras with Jane Russell).� I think curvy women
can be just as sexy and attractive as anyone else.� But there is nothing
sexy or attractive about this picture.� If it weren't for the ugly
shoes pointing out the front, I'd think this was a guy!�
��� Having mentioned "full-figured" and "fat," I feel
the need to rant for a while about such labels.� I really loathe the
need to label body types.� Fat, overweight, obese, full-figured, extra
padding: they all represent the same stereotypes -- lazy, stupid, ugly,
people with no self-control.
��� It's really disturbing to observe to the attitudes
about body image in the media.� Megan Mullally is considered overweight.�
Really most of the women who were considered the sex symbols of the 40's
and 50's would be considered overweight by today's standards.
��� I really despised the show Married with Children.�
It was a terrible show, anyway, but it portrayed overweight women as clueless,
vulgar, and always eating.� And F*R*I*E*N*D*S was even worse!�
When they did flashback scenes to fat Monica, she was a completely different
person.� She was stupid, naive, and not only always eating, but always
thinking about food.
��� I'm not always eating and I'm not always thinking
about food.� My weight came from an inability to cope with stress
in healthy ways.� I eat compulsively to mask feelings of guilt.�
Irrationally, I feel guilt for a lot of things: debt, work-related issues,
family issues, and so on.� Work was the worst.� As a teacher,
you're trained to feel guilt for every student who does not get it.�
When you teach math in California high schools, there are lots of kids
who do not get it.� I felt a lot of guilt, so I ate a lot.
��� But I'm an accomplished person.� I have a bachelor's
degree and am working on my MA.� I'm certainly not stupid.� I
have established myself as a respected member of my profession.� I
am a respected writer in some small circles.� I'm intelligent, creative,
talented, funny, and compassionate (and lets not forget modest), and yet
I feel like when I walk into a room, I'm judged immediately by the thickness
of my layer of flesh.� As if the numbers on the scale automatically
disqualify me as a credible human being.
��� In the less frequent moments of obsession about
Goth Guy, I wonder if it wasn't my weight that turned him off before the
date even began.� I'd like to think that he was a better person than
that, but it's always a doubt in the back of my mind.� And he did
seem to be eagerly interested in the fact that I'm on WeightWatchers.�
(11.5 lbs in 5 weeks).
��� I think I give away too much information upon newly
meeting people.� I'm such an open book.� I really hate that.�
I often wonder if I don't frighten people with my eagerness to share my
life's trials and tribulations.� I used to think it was necessary
for people to know these things about me.� As if they needed to understand
that I'm recovering from injury after injury after injury.� I also
thought that perhaps by knowing what I've survived, they might appreciate
my strength.
��� But as I've had much too much free time, and have
spent a great deal of it in chat rooms meeting people (in chat only), I'm
beginning to see how that can be a great turn off.� Not only does
it not make me think, "wow, this person is really courageous," but it in
fact makes me think that this person has issues they still haven't dealt
with.
��� I really think I have dealt with my issues, though.�
I mean, I've been in counseling for nearly 6 years, and I think it's been
very productive.� I've learned how to analyze my reactions to things.�
I've learned how to talk myself through moments of panic and irrational
thinking.� I've learned that behaviors that I used to think were normal
and perfectly acceptable are not, and I no longer tolerate them (in myself
nor in others).
��� I am really lonely, though.� I know I just
rattled on about how I shouldn't air my dirty laundry to everyone, but
this is a journal, and that's what I started it for... In any case, over
the last year, I've really begun to realize how bad my relationships have
been.� I have never, ever, never, been in a relationship in which
my needs were ever put first.� That includes my relationship with
my parents.� My mother had two kids by two different men and was pregnant
with a third by a third when she married for the first time.� Her
drama, her men, her substances came first.
��� So the men I dated (and one I married) treated me
with the same disregard, and I tolerated it.� Frankly, I don't think
I realized that it was inappropriate behavior until I was so deeply embedded
into a relationship that prying myself out was like major surgery.
��� I just want to be cared for by someone who really
cares that my needs are met.� Who doesn't take it as an attack on
his self-expression when I ask him to contribute to the household.�
Better still, who doesn't need to be reminded to contribute to the household.�
Who stops at the store on his way home, to get himself a 2-litre of soda
and thinks, "I should get something for J while I'm here."
��� It's not that I'd expect him to meet all my needs.�
I'm fully capable of taking care of myself.� It'd just be nice to
know that someone is willing to make the sacrifices that I make.
��� My train of thought is derailing.� Basically,
I guess I'm saying that I've never been loved right, and I feel like I'm
running out of time to get it right.� 33 is not old, but it's not
like I've got plenty of time left to be thinking about having babies, either.�
I don't want to miss out on anything, but I feel like I'm stuck in this
one spot, and have to keep repeating it until I get it right.� And
until I get it right, I can't move on to the next thing, and so important
stuff is passing me by.
��� Also, I really miss sex. |
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