Body image issues, man

The wedding planning is coming right along. The customized shot glasses arrived today, so it’s all coming together nicely.

I showed my boob to some random bicyclist on the way to Costco tonight. TBU and I were recreating a “Want Bitty” skit and I pulled my boob out. TBU didn’t notice but the guy on the bike was like “did I just see what I think I saw?” Yes, you did kind sir.

Skip to about 1:20 for the gold. If you’re interested in mom boobs.

I played hooky (hookey? hookie?) from work today. I know, it’s only my third full week (well almost full) but I was so tired when I woke up this morning I almost couldn’t move. I haven’t been sleeping well since the transition. Speaking of transition. In Costco tonight I tugged on TBU’s arm and said, “You know you’re in so-cal when your local Costco in peddling acid wash and ed hardy inspired yoga leggings in a non-ironic, non-Halloween manner.” Ugh, the people in the lower half of this state, I am telling you.

That’s not to say they aren’t infesting more Northern regions, but this, this is where the hive is. The ones up there are just scouts. We visited TBU’s mom this weekend, or rather her house. You know, the one with the lake and the guards? We went out for a casual lunch on Saturday and there was this woman who I literally could not stop staring at. Her lips were an injury that she was parading around as a pout. And the boobs. I just really felt bad for her daughter. That poor girl. That poor flat chested little girl who is undoubtedly going to develop, if she hasn’t already, an unhealthy dislike of her body. Or not, because who am I to say? Just a girl with healthy C cups observing at a lunch counter.

Speaking of bodies or my body in particular, I have been having a thing with it. For pretty much all of my adolescent and adult life I have been trying to change it. See! That’s who I am to say! I wanted smaller boobs until I realized how awesome they were/are. Then I wanted smaller everything else. Smaller thighs, smaller stomach, smaller wrists, arms, hips, neck. I pretty much decided that everything about my body was just wrong. And I’m not saying I’m over all that, because I don’t think I’ll ever be. It has become such a normal part of my thought process, to dislike what I see in the mirror, that I don’t think the nueral passageways that connect those thoughts with my emotions will ever disappear. I don’t think I’ll ever see my thighs as they are, as beautiful. But I’ve decided that they just are, and that’s all I can do. I am tired of all the energy I spend on thinking about my body, how I can change it, how many calories I’ve consumed and burned. I am tired of wondering why I have the kind of luck to not have the kind of beautiful body I don’t have to work at. I am just tired of it.

This was all brought on because of the wedding. Of course, I am unoriginal and thought trying to lose weight for the wedding was a good idea. But the thing is, is that I was never trying to lose weight for the wedding I was trying to lose weight for the pictures of the wedding. I feared looking back at them and thinking how I could have done it, but I was just lazy. But then I realized I was probably the only one so focused on my flaws, the only one who noticed my double chin or the fact that my shoulder blades or collar bones aren’t readily apparent. And I was like fuck it.

But not like fuck it entirely, I am still working out five days a week and watching my portions and hoping beyond hope that something will budge. But I guess now I am just like, “It it what it is.” There is a hint of a sense of peace about it all but I am still predicting my future self being disappointed with my current self. But maybe my future self will be more awesome than I give her credit for. I don’t know.