There have been more than a few times this past summer when upon catching an image of myself in a shiny surface I've been disappointed. I look tired and worn out. All used up and puffy. My smile is tight and quite clearly needs a long winter's nap. And I look fat- not cartoon fat, and not obese, just scrunchy. So I harumpf and then take a deep breath and encourage myself to go on. Though thinking lesser of yourself is the worst kind of torture. Every step being taken is a drip in an already full bucket. Step- you're ugly. Step- everyone sees it. Step- you should be better. Step- you've given up. Until I turn my feet around and head back towards home. The only place I can hide away in my jogging pants and loose fitting t-shirt. I know where the mirrors are here and I can go for days without really looking at myself. Tricky part is, not every mirror is telling the truth, and not everyone can spot a lie.
I remember hearing that you're never as fat as you think you are. Which is as true for people with low self esteem as it is for prima ballerinas. But some people are exactly as fat as they think they are. I am just not sure which category I fit into. I know that my skinny jeans are tight...but that's to be expected. They are skinny jeans...how skinny they should be is a different question entirely. I know that I spend a lot of time yanking and pulling and arranging my clothes, but tiny little movie stars have a wardrobe person doing that to them as well. It's a strange and infuriating juxtaposition.
At Canada's Wonderland after a day of being soaking wet and half drying and then getting wet again, I dragged myself into the washroom as night fell. The harsh florescent lighting revealed that the fun I was having had taken a toll. My mascara had dripped and caked under my eyes trapped under the long day's sunscreen. My shirt was clingy and mishappen from being soaked by white water rapids. My skin looked greasy and yellow. The shorts I had on, welcome to Camel toe town. I was a nightmare. And just like that- all the fun I had been charging up on all day was drained. I felt stupid and ugly, fat and I wanted to go home. So, I walked my soggy running shoes out to the parking lot and said g'night with a growl. Looking terrible ruined my eve, and here I was thinking I wasn't superficial.
This past weekend after dancing my tail feather off at my bro-in-law's wedding and receiving compliments on my pretty dress and nice hairstyle and 8 Likes on a photo posted on FB; I was feeling alright about myself. That's when nature called again. So, heading from the dark dance floor where I was feeling hair-tossingly sexy, I went to the very bright bathroom. As I washed my hands I caught sight of a sweaty forehead, raccoon bandit style eyes, girl with hair stuck to her face and a flush that only colours someone with high-blood pressure after exertion. And after taking all that in, I realized it was me. Les Sigh. Even when I feel like I am at my best I fall below my lofty standards. BFF is quick to say that I expect too much of myself. But I am quicker to respond, Why would I allow anything less than my best self to be the person I am? So, starving for something can be good, but it sounds like it might be a bigger commitment than just change of diet. I need to put myself on a life diet, and cut out the shit. Because I am tired of feeling I can do better without actually doing it. And I know too many people who regret not being their better self, without knowing they can be. So, Mirror, Mirror, expect to see a lot more of me. I may not like you now, but soon enough magic will make you work for me. And we'll both see the change.
I remember hearing that you're never as fat as you think you are. Which is as true for people with low self esteem as it is for prima ballerinas. But some people are exactly as fat as they think they are. I am just not sure which category I fit into. I know that my skinny jeans are tight...but that's to be expected. They are skinny jeans...how skinny they should be is a different question entirely. I know that I spend a lot of time yanking and pulling and arranging my clothes, but tiny little movie stars have a wardrobe person doing that to them as well. It's a strange and infuriating juxtaposition.
At Canada's Wonderland after a day of being soaking wet and half drying and then getting wet again, I dragged myself into the washroom as night fell. The harsh florescent lighting revealed that the fun I was having had taken a toll. My mascara had dripped and caked under my eyes trapped under the long day's sunscreen. My shirt was clingy and mishappen from being soaked by white water rapids. My skin looked greasy and yellow. The shorts I had on, welcome to Camel toe town. I was a nightmare. And just like that- all the fun I had been charging up on all day was drained. I felt stupid and ugly, fat and I wanted to go home. So, I walked my soggy running shoes out to the parking lot and said g'night with a growl. Looking terrible ruined my eve, and here I was thinking I wasn't superficial.
This past weekend after dancing my tail feather off at my bro-in-law's wedding and receiving compliments on my pretty dress and nice hairstyle and 8 Likes on a photo posted on FB; I was feeling alright about myself. That's when nature called again. So, heading from the dark dance floor where I was feeling hair-tossingly sexy, I went to the very bright bathroom. As I washed my hands I caught sight of a sweaty forehead, raccoon bandit style eyes, girl with hair stuck to her face and a flush that only colours someone with high-blood pressure after exertion. And after taking all that in, I realized it was me. Les Sigh. Even when I feel like I am at my best I fall below my lofty standards. BFF is quick to say that I expect too much of myself. But I am quicker to respond, Why would I allow anything less than my best self to be the person I am? So, starving for something can be good, but it sounds like it might be a bigger commitment than just change of diet. I need to put myself on a life diet, and cut out the shit. Because I am tired of feeling I can do better without actually doing it. And I know too many people who regret not being their better self, without knowing they can be. So, Mirror, Mirror, expect to see a lot more of me. I may not like you now, but soon enough magic will make you work for me. And we'll both see the change.
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