Haiku plus 4

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Copyright, 2017, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

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*V.A.P.S.

I have been driving the OH quite mad of late. (Possibly for much longer than that!)

I have put on quite a bit of weight… well, in my opinion, quite a lot!

I had some very serious depression and anxiety issues this year, along with some health concerns I have blogged about previously, all of which resulted in a little bit too much comfort eating and drinking. And an expanding waistline…

I have been moaning about how fat I am, how awful I look and feel and it is really getting on his nerves. He is worn out telling me to stop saying these things, telling me I am ‘gorgeous’ and ‘beautiful’; alternating between almost endless patience and occasional, (and understandable), irritation at my self-hating repetition.

I asked him had he not noticed my new shape and he agreed he had and that it really doesn’t matter: “When you were slimmer I found you sexy, when you were or are bigger I find you sexy. You have a real problem seeing yourself the way you really are.”

I thought about this over, and over.

For me, this is impossible to accept. It is no failing on his part, it is all on me. I simply cannot see what he says he sees. I simply cannot accept that he finds me attractive or desirable. I think I am repulsive.

Eventually, I asked him, “So, what you are saying is – you love and accept me just as I am, no matter how I look or how much I change. Is that it?”

He looked at me, slightly exasperated and said, “That is exactly it.”

Now my challenge is to believe it.

💋

*Very Annoying Person Syndrome – an affliction I torture myself and others with.

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved

It’s All About Me…

I posted this tweet this morning:image

I do realise that I spend a fair bit of time complaining about how I look.

Something struck me today as I was out on my enforced trip to town.

I saw other women of all shapes and sizes, smaller and thinner than me and larger and heavier than me.

I saw several larger ladies and thought, “wow! She looks amazing/her curves are fab/she looks so confident”, and then thought, “why can’t I be happy with my body like they are?”

Yes, yes, I know there is every chance they go home and cry when they look in the mirror, just as I do, but the point is that I thought they looked fantastic and confident in themselves.

I also realised that I have several friends on twitter and WP that are also larger than me, who I think are totally gorgeous. I can think of so many women who post nude or semi nude photos that I admire on Sinful Sunday or on their TLs and I thought, “Fuck! They must read me and think that I am a total bitch!”

So I must make one thing clear… when I rant about not being the size or shape I want to be, I am in no way suggesting that being larger, heavier, (or thinner for that matter), is not desirable or is in any way “less than”. When I write these things it really is all about me!

My bestie lost it with me last week when I made a disparaging remark about how I look, (I said I wasn’t going to an event I had wanted to attend because I am too fat now).

She is gorgeous, sexy and beautiful and yes, she is bigger than me. She totally hit me with both barrels about how pointless it is for me to constantly run my self down and to deny myself things because of how I perceive myself to look. Her anger and disappointment leaped off the screen and I withdrew for the day, unable to face her. (We are perfectly ok now btw… she was really just trying to make me see things differently but I couldn’t hear it.)

When I think that any of my friends on twitter or in the blogosphere might feel the same disappointment and annoyance at me for what I write, or that they might think I am in some way running them down alongside running myself down, it makes me feel dreadful! Truly shitty.

I felt the need to write this today to say that the stupid standards I set for myself are not in any way a reflection of how I see other women.

I realise 100% how incredibly fucked up my attitude is and how warped my thinking is. I envy any woman who feels comfortable in her own skin. If there were a pill I could take to achieve the same feeling, I would take it in a heartbeat. Hell, I’d overdose!

The truth is I have never been happy with how I look. When I was wearing age 10-11 jeans, (yes age, not size), and was so underweight my periods stopped I still thought I looked awful and even ‘saw’ a belly where there was actually a concave dip.

For the record, I have a problem with me, not with anyone else. If anyone reading my rants about my body shape and size ever thinks I am attacking or insulting anyone other than myself, please know that I am not.

It really is all about me…

💋

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.