Friday, December 2, 2011
For the Love of Hips and Thighs. . . For the Taste of Cheese and Pies
Let's talk about something that most girls do NOT want to talk about: our bodies. How do you feel about your body? Let me give you some background on how I feel about mine:
For as long as I can remember I was never thin enough for my liking, no matter what my size was. I would like to tell you this stems from some deep seeded memory of someone being awful to me about my body, but really, it doesn't. I cannot honestly tell you why I've always been so awful about loving my body. When I was an 8, my thighs were too big. When I was a 12, I had love handles and my arms were fat, when I was a 16, I had too many rolls, when I was an 18, my back fat gave me great distress. For as long as I can remember, I was never thin enough, pretty enough, good enough in comparison to girls I went to school with, girls in movies, just girls, period.
Let me clarify by saying that as I write this, I am not 100% pleased with the way my body looks and feels in and out of clothing. But today is the first day, since puberty reared her bitch ass head, that I really do feel happy.
Beautiful, reading public of mine. . . let me lay it all out for you.. it's gonna be the nitty gritty.. but it's imperative. I am a curvy girl. . . some might say I am a big girl. . . I prefer generously proportioned. I wear a size 18 jean, an XL shirt/sweater/tank top, and am a boner inducing 44 DDD in the chest. And you know what? That's okay. . . actually it's more than okay, it's beautiful. It's beautiful because I've got curves and I know how to decorate them properly, but even more important than that- I've got this ball of fire inside of me. . . it's called my soul.
I'm intelligent, I'm funny, I'm compassionate, and if I come into contact with you, chances are, I'll end up being crazy about you in some way. I can sip wine in a ritzy restaurant or throw back shots in the back yard on a tail gate. I'll maintain that girls don't fart, but burp in a wildly inappropriate place and get scolded by my mother. My point to this rant is that it doesn't matter what you look like, what size your jeans are, or in what department of the store you shop in, all that matters is who you are and how you reach the people around you.
I have friends that are tall and closely resemble the looks and walk of Marisa Miller, I have friends that rock an ass like J.Lo, and I have friends that look radiant in absolutely anything like Queen Latifa. But they are my friends because of the joy they bring me, the laughter they inspire, and the careful advice that they give. If they weren't kind, loving, and generous women, it wouldn't matter if they were the next angel in a Victoria's Secret catalogue. . . because I don't surround myself with mean spirited people.
I'm single right now and it is something I deal with everyday. Sometimes I don't mind it and sometimes I hate it, but I know that one day I'm going to meet the guy designed for me and he's going to love me for my wit, my brain, my heart, and my bra size.
So. . . to the guy who told an old boyfriend of mine on that high school baseball field that I was hot until I got fat, to the guy who bypasses me on the dance floor to be next to a tall skinny friend of mine, to every guy who looked at my un-toned thighs and hips instead of into my eyes and made a decision: I'm a curvy girl, I like food, I make people laugh and you missed out.
Love your bodies ladies. . . and if you don't, work on them until you do love them, but the bottom line is- the size of your ass has absolutely nothing to do with the size of your heart.
Be good to one another, be good to you, and pay yourself a compliment today.