{Heart, 'Dog & Butterfly'}
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Okay, so it's been over a month since I last posted. I've been thinking about it. I've been meaning to. But, for whatever reason ... business {probably not}, laziness {quite possibly}, or what have you ... I just have not had the energy or desire to sit down and truly write. Perhaps I've been uninspired. Perhaps I just haven't felt like I've had anything worthy to say and share. Today is the end of all of that, at least for now. Maybe I'll fall back into the slump, who knows? But for now I have reached this amazingly marvelous epiphany, I have ascended my soap box, and I'm ready to talk!
My epiphany is that the whole world can just go bugger off. Now, it's really possible, and probably rather likely, that I don't mean to give a royal send-off to the entire population that inhabits this planet or universe; as a matter of fact, there are many, many people whom I absolutely adore and love and would really rather that they hang around. What I do mean to say is that I am adopting the attitude that I am me, I love me, and anybody who disagrees is respectfully invited to not participate in my life. Now, it is true {as indicated in the preceding paragraph} that there are days -- hell, there are weeks -- when I am not that happy with myself. But ... BUT ... I have come to this fantastically fabulous realization that I am who I am and, damn it, I'm not all that bad, to be perfectly honest. I am a big gal, but I am also a beautiful woman. I truly enjoy spending time with the people that I love and care about, I like to meet and learn about new people, and I genuinely want to make the earth a much better and happier place. I may be short in stature, but I am dynamic. I have a good heart and a loving soul. I may not have the highest IQ on the planet and, to be frank, I am a little overly innocent and naive at times, but I am an intellectual in my own, unique way. I am blessed beyond belief in so many, many ways and I am tired of feeling as if I am not good enough just because I do not completely squeeze into the mold that has been forged by society as to what a happy, healthy, successful, and sexy woman should look like. Who gave society the right to impose its prejudicial opinions on my self-worth? Why should I allow some stick-thin twits from God-only-knows-where to lay the path for the way that I should behave and live my life? For that matter, why should I give that power to their sex- and power-driven counterparts? I don't ... at least, not anymore.
I never realized when I was a young child that I was pudgy. I really don't think that I was until I was 7 or 8 or so. My first real recollection of being pleasantly plump was at approximately that age -- I remember riding in my Dad's truck and sitting there in a pair of jeans that were, I was quite certain, cutting off my circulation. Quite sadly, I knew even at that innocent age that I shouldn't say anything about it. Obviously, there was something wrong with me and therefore it was up to me to fix it. The only way to do that, of course, was to become smaller. I'm not exactly sure that that ever happened. I was always bigger than most of the other girls in my grade in elementary school, but I was kind of a tomboy as well, so I preferred to think that my athleticism had something to do with my size. I loved playing basketball as a child. I played at my neighbor's house. My parents got a basketball goal for my sister and me. I played in the girls' league from fourth grade through the seventh grade. And, I was really good. I was aggressive and I was relatively quick. My passion for the sport, unfortunately, began to wane in the eighth grade because playing the game was no longer an activity of fun, it was an activity of competition and being the best. The eighth grade was the year that I became acquainted with, and subsequently became a BFF to, the bench. Eighth grade was also the year that I achieved the epiphany that boys could no longer merely be your friends to play sports and games with ... the male sex was so much more complicated than that. To sum up the story, I 'played' basketball in the eighth and ninth grades and then I quit. I was tired of sitting around and watching while the other girls played. Hell, I could do that without having to go to practice every single solitary day {even when my grandfather died!} and run my ass off. If I wanted to watch people play, I'd just go to an occasional game or watch it on tv. I didn't need the discrimination, I didn't need the humiliation. Well, then I decided that I would play volleyball. I actually quite liked it. I was short, so that meant that I couldn't be an effective spiker. I was short, so that did mean that I could serve as a setter. I could serve as an alternate/a backup setter, however, because I was also fat. I went to practice every single day ... I had an awesome, powerful serve that oftentimes could not be returned by the opposing team ... but I was also doomed to warm the bench in this sport. So, I paid my dues between the ninth and eleventh grades and I also 'quit' on volleyball. My next sport of diversion was softball. Kind of the same story, except I actually saw some playing time in this sport. Some might say that happened because my Dad helped coach. But, he didn't always coach my team and I learned that I was actually rather good. This was a sport that I could play! I tinkered around with it a little bit in the intramural leagues in college. My softball career came to an end sometime during my junior year. At any rate ... what a tangent. Or, maybe not.
Just because you are heavier than some people doesn't mean that you cannot play sports. It does not infer that you are not beautiful. It does not indicate that you are lazy, inflexible, or unathletic. It does not imply that you are useless and that you are incapable of contributing to society other than by keeping the culinary sector of the economy in check. It does not suggest that you are inept or unintelligent. Fat can be beautiful. When a person is happy and healthy, her or his body proportion should not matter. There is too much emphasis on the strictly physical this day and age, and not nearly enough on the total package that comprises an individual. Attractiveness is an overall characteristic. Sure, a man can have an iron chest, bulging arms, and a lower torso made of stainless steel. But, if that same man has a heart made of coal, the intellect of a chunk of concrete, the personality of wood, and the humor of asphalt, then he is not the man for me.
I have spent the past ten years or so of my life, and I suspect that many of the world's inhabitants have done the same, wanting desperately to be accepted and valued and searching fervently for that one person -- that one spiritually, emotionally, intellectually, and physically amazing creature -- who would treat me as the most prized treasure in his entire universe and who would love me for my stunning beauty, incredible intelligence, charming wit, and adorable personality. I'm not so sure that he exists. Perhaps he does. Maybe I'll find out, maybe I won't. One thing that I have learned in 2010 is that I do not need a particular appraisal from other people to live a happily successful life. I was thrown to the ground at the start of the year because a man who listened to me and talked to me and paid attention to me threw me over for a cute, skinny woman with acrylic nails. {It turned out, in fact and QUITE unbeknownedst to me -- this lady has class!, that I was the other woman ... go figure.} I flung myself into mourning and spiraled into a deep depression that I am sure lasted for a good month and a half, if not longer. Mourning and deep depression ... all for a man who was never even worth it?! I have spent a good portion of the year being a support system for another man and, at the same time, feeling that I was falling deeply and unrelentlessly in love with that person. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't. While I do know that I overwhelmingly care for that person and even love him in my own way, there are just some things that you cannot do until the time is right. And I am not going to spin my wheels and dig a deeper and more treacherous rut for myself waiting for the 'perfect' man to make his appearance on my stage. No. I will not. I refuse to do it and I am shifting my gears into four-wheel drive. So, ladies and gentlemen, the following is my declaration: I am a beautiful woman physically, intellectually, emotionally, spiritually, and personally. I have so much to offer this world and want to enjoy my life to the fullest. I refuse to allow the opinions of other people to influence what I think, how I view myself, how I behave, and what I do in this life. I choose to rely upon the grace of God and my own self-worth and self-confidence. I want to love everyone who chooses to be a part of my life. I want to make the world a better place by greeting it with joy in my heart and a smile in my face. I want to snog and get snogged every now and again {look it up!}. I want to be happy. I want to be me.
Now, you may ask me how in the world I have managed to reach this empowering level of rationalization. I think that a series of events during the past year or so have led up to it. I'm not placing all of the credit with one individual, although I give God the credit for it all, but I have to say that the one individual who has 'pushed me over the edge' has been the vivaciously gorgeous and magnificently witty Ms. Dawn French. For those of you who may not be familiar with her, she is a British comedienne who is incredibly intellectual, brilliantly beautiful inwardly and outwardly, dashingly devastating, fabulously funny, winningly witty, and seriously self-confident even though she does not physically look the way that society has prescribed that every woman should look. I 'discovered' Dawn French several months ago when I was introduced to the BBC series 'The Vicar of Dibley' by two of my friends {a fantastic sitcom that I highly recommend}. I was ignorant of the impact that this lady would come to have on my life. Since my arrival in Columbus, I have decided that I am going to forego some sort of television subscription for as long as I possibly can. I am relying, instead, upon my personal collection of DVDs, Netflix, Hulu, and YouTube for my television and movie entertainment. I decided to search for 'The Vicar of Dibley' on Netflix the other evening and I became entranced by the lead character and the woman who portrayed her. After doing some internet research, I found myself awesomely inspired by this person that I have never and probably will never meet for her unrelenting approach to life and how openly she embraces who she truly is. She does not let other people dictate how she lives her life and she makes no excuses for her appearance -- she loves herself and her confidence exudes for all the world to see. She is a wonderful example of how everyone should love herself or himself.
I suggest that you watch her documentary 'On Big Women'. You can find the video on YouTube {the documentary is divided into parts: I, II, III, IV, and V.} What she has to say is inspiring and she attacks stereotypes of the fat woman with a rational and fiery attitude. I will inform you, however, that this video is geared toward a mature audience. I have to preface your viewing with a few of the best and most thought-provoking comments that she makes in this film {and not necessarily in the order in which they are presented}:
'I mean, as far as I'm concerned, there's 2 types of women ... there's the ones that love chocolate ... and then there's complete bitches.'
'I mean, there was a day when, um, big women were revered ... Rubens, Picasso ... they all loved big women. I mean in Rubens' time, if I was alive then ... when was that, the 1700s was that? The 1300s? 14 ... God, when was Rubens alive? 1430s or ... I don't know, sometime in the afternoon. Um, if I was alive then, I wouldn't have to be a comedienne for a living. I'd be celebrated as a fabulous model ... I'd be painting all day long. I mean in those days, Kate Moss would've only had one use as a paint brush. I mean, I'd be there in Rubens' studio ... he'd be painting me, all the livelong day. And I'd say, "What's that in your hand, Rubens?" And he'd say, "That's Kate Moss, I'm using her as a paint brush."'
'I dieted once ... when I was stupid and weak.'
'You know the diet industry dictates how we should look, along with the fashion industry, I think. And, you know, they take all your money so that you'll buy these products and you lose a lot of weight very fast and of course when you put it on, you put on much more than you ever were before. So then you've got more to lose, so you give more money to buy more of their stupid products. Meanwhile you destroy your body, no chance of settling at the weight that you're ever supposed to be ... So, um, we're paying them to destroy our bodies because we're not allowed to feel happy about the size we are.'
May God bless you and may He bless me and give us all strength, wisdom, intellect, tolerance, beautiful hearts, and innocent souls.
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