I am full of pizza, red wine and wild fantasies about the future. I simply can’t decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
I feel so many things tonight I don’t know where to start. Perhaps the physical is a good place. I feel fat and pudgy. I have been losing weight recently and feel good about that but nothin can override the hormonal fatties that come as a most unwelcome guest. I just don’t know how to explain this to men. It isn’t just looking at yourself in the mirror and feeling that you’ve gained a few pounds.
My skin CRAWLS with fatness… I am oozing fatness from every pore… I am Fat Bastard.
Not only that, but every other woman in the world has suddenly become petite, with creamy skin, floaty blonde hair and a little button nose. Bitches.
I swear the only place I am not growing hair today is my cheek bones.
Small dinky women… I hate you.
Well, now that I have that off my hairy chest I shall attempt to move onto other things in my head. Perhaps my wild fantasies for the future will be more satisfying. Yesterday was Gillian Day where I got to obsess about myself again for another hour of therapy. Mostly it was about clarifying the journey I have taken and where I am now. The confusion over how I felt about being loved rather than left was soothed and cleared with the realisation that I am scared… really scared.
Our “truths” about each other need to change. We have absorbed a hell of a lot of hurt and made that part of who we think the other person is. It would be easier to start again with someone who didn’t expect the worst from me. It would be easier to start again with someone who wasn’t going to cheat on me. It would be easier to start again with someone who didn’t prefer dinky women. But… the love I feel is worth something and it is there for a reason. And now I like me and that makes things very different. And I love him. I know it is a gamble for both of us, but for the first time in a long time I feel I have something to come to the table with and I won’t be betting more than I have. Not just that, I am being honest with everyone and if I get hurt I am not afraid that people will see me cry. I will only try one more time.
So, moving on to other developments. There is an energy building in me that I haven’t felt for a long time. I wonder if this is because I am not wasting so much effort toward finding reasons to dislike myself. I certainly hope so. I am not so scared of being rejected. This affects many parts of my life - friendships, work, love. It is a curious thing to watch how one small change in your perception can make so many ripples throughout your life. I am interested (and a widdle bit excited) to see how far this reaches. I would hate it to be some passing phase as so much new age therapy-induced bullshit is, but I think we know when we are just playing a game. For me it seems those phases are accompanied by an unnatural, almost frantic level of enthusiasm that takes a lot of effort to maintain. This feel effortless and peaceful - a gentle smile of acknowledgment. It feels like me.
I have some way to go I guess. I still wish for a man to find me beautiful, brush the hair back from my face, kiss my forehead and tell me how long he has waited to find me, understand why I do the stupid things I do and want to be with me every day…
But liking myself makes it easier to laugh at the reality and give myself the understanding I have been searching for - even when I am hormonally challenged.