I find it funny that I feel sexier when my hair is straightened and I let it down.
It flows around better and makes me feel prettier.
I feel good about it :)
1 year ago
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
And in other news...
I have been going pretty good with watching what I eat in the past two days considering that I'm leaving for the beach in two weeks (eww swimsuits).
Except today I ate a box full of chocolates that I bought for a friend...
and then I threw it up.
Except today I ate a box full of chocolates that I bought for a friend...
and then I threw it up.
Limerence with a touch of lime
... makes it all the more sour.
I know why I feel the way I feel about Him. It's called Limerence and it is an involuntary, cognitive and emotional state in which a person feels an intense romantic desire for another person, the limerent object. It is very close to being a disorder (which explains my trace amounts of OCD). But damn, couldn't I have been limerent for someone with a preference for curvy, brown bodies? That would have been lovely.
As relieved as I am to figure out what all this is about... I find it a little depressing that what I feel for him is a negative thing. I knew it was bad but to have it written down as something that should have been put in the DSM-IV-TR... well... it's not so hot.
But at the same time, aren't the most romantic sonnets written about unrequited love? Aren't the world's greatest playwriters and songwriters victims of limerence? Maybe I should shoot down everything else and become Edgar Allan Poe? My poetic abilities are a little lacking and though I have the material, I don't have the prose. Plagiarizing is okay as long as I can genuinely feel it right? How about I start with this:
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen? What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by...
I know why I feel the way I feel about Him. It's called Limerence and it is an involuntary, cognitive and emotional state in which a person feels an intense romantic desire for another person, the limerent object. It is very close to being a disorder (which explains my trace amounts of OCD). But damn, couldn't I have been limerent for someone with a preference for curvy, brown bodies? That would have been lovely.
As relieved as I am to figure out what all this is about... I find it a little depressing that what I feel for him is a negative thing. I knew it was bad but to have it written down as something that should have been put in the DSM-IV-TR... well... it's not so hot.
But at the same time, aren't the most romantic sonnets written about unrequited love? Aren't the world's greatest playwriters and songwriters victims of limerence? Maybe I should shoot down everything else and become Edgar Allan Poe? My poetic abilities are a little lacking and though I have the material, I don't have the prose. Plagiarizing is okay as long as I can genuinely feel it right? How about I start with this:
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen? What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by...
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Sisters from the same mister
... except that she didn't get his fat genes.
That is a problem for me... my sister.
She is underweight and tall. She is also gorgeous and has an amazing personality to boot.
I hate her.
Well, I don't really hate her. I love her. I'm not even really that jealous. I love her too much.
But it drives me crazy. When we're out, she is the one who gets stared at. Men are constantly looking over my shoulder at her or skimming their eyes across the top of my head and checking her out. I'm never looked at by men or woman or anyone, really. It's like I blend into the background.
Sometimes I wish it could be the other one.
I want the best of her and I'm glad people acknowledge that she is beautiful.
But... I wish I could just get a taste of it.
That is a problem for me... my sister.
She is underweight and tall. She is also gorgeous and has an amazing personality to boot.
I hate her.
Well, I don't really hate her. I love her. I'm not even really that jealous. I love her too much.
But it drives me crazy. When we're out, she is the one who gets stared at. Men are constantly looking over my shoulder at her or skimming their eyes across the top of my head and checking her out. I'm never looked at by men or woman or anyone, really. It's like I blend into the background.
Sometimes I wish it could be the other one.
I want the best of her and I'm glad people acknowledge that she is beautiful.
But... I wish I could just get a taste of it.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
The story of Him
I have a feeling that wouldn't even mind so much if it weren't for him.
He is the reason for why I am the person I am. He is the one who basically made. He is my every motivation and why I act the way I act and think the way I think.
He isn't the God. But to me, he is more than god.
His name isn't ever going to be written in this journal just like mine probably won't ever be.
When I was young, my weight didn't matter so much. I wished I was skinnier or prettier but only so I'd be more popular and have more friends.
He was my enemy. He made fun of me constantly and basically reduced my self-esteem from zero to minus 100 in about 60 seconds every time he was around. He was everything I wasn't. He was white, outgoing, popular, rich, despised school... he was brutal to me. And then it turned out that he liked me. He liked me. Geeky, brown, fat, me. I guess the trauma from his insults still stung when I found out because a meaner reaction could never have come out of me before. So he went back to teasing me... even more mercilessly than before.
Then we moved out of Junior High, he started ignoring me completely and in true teenage irony, I fell for him. And there the obsession began.
Ever since then, everything I have done has been about him. When I lost a pound, it was to lose it for him. When I splurged on a purse, when I got my hair done, when I drank. It was all to imitate him and to make me closer to him. Eventually, it stopped being an act. I became that girl. I became his mirror. A perfect reflection of what I figured his perfect girl would act like, would have fun doing, would spend time on... except I wasn't the real thing. I was a warped reflection. And I was still brown and fat.
After graduation, I attended a few parties as him off and on. We talked at some of these. He always seemed to pay attention to me but I couldn't figure out whether it was genuine or whether it was all in my head.
What scares me more is that he might be all in my head. I spend hours with him and have done so in my imagination for the past few years. The version of him in my dreams is a slight mirage. He is an idolized him that probably doesn't exist He is an illusion. So even if I ever attain him, I will never be able to get that perfect guy that I have been dreaming of. But to only have him... wouldn't that be enough?
Sometimes I go to clubs and I'm too shy to even approach guys but my excuse is that I'm waiting for him. I don't make an effort really, I attribute it all to the colour of my skin, my fat and him. Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn't even care if I were brown or fat... if it wasn't for him?
So that is the story of him and me. As depressing as it is, as angsty, it is what it is. I'm not ashamed of my love for him. I'm ashamed that I hold on to it as tight as I do. I'm afraid I'm a creep. I'm afraid I'll spend the rest of my life waiting...
He is the reason for why I am the person I am. He is the one who basically made. He is my every motivation and why I act the way I act and think the way I think.
He isn't the God. But to me, he is more than god.
His name isn't ever going to be written in this journal just like mine probably won't ever be.
When I was young, my weight didn't matter so much. I wished I was skinnier or prettier but only so I'd be more popular and have more friends.
He was my enemy. He made fun of me constantly and basically reduced my self-esteem from zero to minus 100 in about 60 seconds every time he was around. He was everything I wasn't. He was white, outgoing, popular, rich, despised school... he was brutal to me. And then it turned out that he liked me. He liked me. Geeky, brown, fat, me. I guess the trauma from his insults still stung when I found out because a meaner reaction could never have come out of me before. So he went back to teasing me... even more mercilessly than before.
Then we moved out of Junior High, he started ignoring me completely and in true teenage irony, I fell for him. And there the obsession began.
Ever since then, everything I have done has been about him. When I lost a pound, it was to lose it for him. When I splurged on a purse, when I got my hair done, when I drank. It was all to imitate him and to make me closer to him. Eventually, it stopped being an act. I became that girl. I became his mirror. A perfect reflection of what I figured his perfect girl would act like, would have fun doing, would spend time on... except I wasn't the real thing. I was a warped reflection. And I was still brown and fat.
After graduation, I attended a few parties as him off and on. We talked at some of these. He always seemed to pay attention to me but I couldn't figure out whether it was genuine or whether it was all in my head.
What scares me more is that he might be all in my head. I spend hours with him and have done so in my imagination for the past few years. The version of him in my dreams is a slight mirage. He is an idolized him that probably doesn't exist He is an illusion. So even if I ever attain him, I will never be able to get that perfect guy that I have been dreaming of. But to only have him... wouldn't that be enough?
Sometimes I go to clubs and I'm too shy to even approach guys but my excuse is that I'm waiting for him. I don't make an effort really, I attribute it all to the colour of my skin, my fat and him. Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn't even care if I were brown or fat... if it wasn't for him?
So that is the story of him and me. As depressing as it is, as angsty, it is what it is. I'm not ashamed of my love for him. I'm ashamed that I hold on to it as tight as I do. I'm afraid I'm a creep. I'm afraid I'll spend the rest of my life waiting...
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Hey fatty!
Well, I've never been morbidly obese but I've always been pretty overweight. It sucks but I've come to realize that there are worse things in the world.
When I was born, my mum liked "chubby babies" and she went for overkill.
I had always been teased about being fat by relatives but it was only till my preteens when I realized it was an issue. I wasn't as popular or liked because I was overweight. So there my struggle with weight loss started.
All through high school, I was overlooked by people. When I lost ten pounds I started getting attention. It was just a little slice and then I gained it all back again.
I'm still overweight, two years after grad and still trying to take off forty pounds. When I got out clubbing with friends, I don't hook up with a hot guy, I end up getting hit on by really drunk guys looking at me through beer-splashed lenses.
I'm the last call girl. If by chance I land a hot guy and he's not that drunk (its only happened twice), he's either a total loser ("I got a DUI so I don't have a licence and I just got out of juvi") or he's a chubby chaser.
Another big part of who am I is that I am brown... I'm a brown girl- a fat brown girl in a western country. I've lived here since I was little so I'm pretty much a very different girl trying to fit into a totally different atmosphere than what I was born into. If I felt intimidated because I'm a separate race in a predominantly white nation, let us just say... being fat doesn't make it easier.
I constantly feel as if I can't approach men because I feel inadequete. Besides that, I don't have any experience with men whatsoever. If a guy even approaches me, I'd probably run. I don't feel comfortable talking about myself with guys to my friends because it feels awkward. I'll talk to them about their guys but never about me or who I like.
I have this weird feeling that fat people shouldn't feel loved. I feel like an ass sometimes but I think the same thing of other fat people. I think it's something our society has taught to each other. Overweight girls should always be the "best friend" and never the leading lady. They don't get the guy. They may get the wingman but the wingman is allowed to get up and run away at any second.
I am a good person, I volunteer, I support my friends, I'm always smiling. But I don't feel that great about it because to me, it's just compensation for being fat. If I weren't fat, would I care? That's why being overweight is kind of a good thing, you make the world better because you can't make yourself better.
Aside from that, my confidence is low. It's not low as in I don't like myself, it's low as in... I understand that not everyone is going to like me because of my weight. I don't buy sexy clothes because I am waiting for my life to start and my life starts when I'm a few stones lighter. That's pretty much a fact. People will judge me as being lazy even though I'm the hardest worker I know. The fact that I can't resist a cupcake makes me worse than someone beautiful who stabs her boyfriend in the knee with a fork.
We live in a superficial society. I can't change it. I can try to change myself but I don't know how much good that will do.
I'm a blogger on livejournal but over the past few months, I've been thinking about making a separate fat blog. I don't want my friends to find out about my insecurities because first of all, they really wouldn't understand and secondly, they wouldn't know what to do about it because I am so put together. I'm always the one with the solutions. So why can't I come up with for myself?
I don't really know what will come of this blog. Maybe I'll finally start accepting myself or maybe I'll lose some weight and look back on this as a learning experience. I'm not exactly sure what this is going to do for me but people who write fat blogs always feel so much more confident for some reason. I am happy with my life and hopefully this is going to help me become happier with myself.
When I was born, my mum liked "chubby babies" and she went for overkill.
I had always been teased about being fat by relatives but it was only till my preteens when I realized it was an issue. I wasn't as popular or liked because I was overweight. So there my struggle with weight loss started.
All through high school, I was overlooked by people. When I lost ten pounds I started getting attention. It was just a little slice and then I gained it all back again.
I'm still overweight, two years after grad and still trying to take off forty pounds. When I got out clubbing with friends, I don't hook up with a hot guy, I end up getting hit on by really drunk guys looking at me through beer-splashed lenses.
I'm the last call girl. If by chance I land a hot guy and he's not that drunk (its only happened twice), he's either a total loser ("I got a DUI so I don't have a licence and I just got out of juvi") or he's a chubby chaser.
Another big part of who am I is that I am brown... I'm a brown girl- a fat brown girl in a western country. I've lived here since I was little so I'm pretty much a very different girl trying to fit into a totally different atmosphere than what I was born into. If I felt intimidated because I'm a separate race in a predominantly white nation, let us just say... being fat doesn't make it easier.
I constantly feel as if I can't approach men because I feel inadequete. Besides that, I don't have any experience with men whatsoever. If a guy even approaches me, I'd probably run. I don't feel comfortable talking about myself with guys to my friends because it feels awkward. I'll talk to them about their guys but never about me or who I like.
I have this weird feeling that fat people shouldn't feel loved. I feel like an ass sometimes but I think the same thing of other fat people. I think it's something our society has taught to each other. Overweight girls should always be the "best friend" and never the leading lady. They don't get the guy. They may get the wingman but the wingman is allowed to get up and run away at any second.
I am a good person, I volunteer, I support my friends, I'm always smiling. But I don't feel that great about it because to me, it's just compensation for being fat. If I weren't fat, would I care? That's why being overweight is kind of a good thing, you make the world better because you can't make yourself better.
Aside from that, my confidence is low. It's not low as in I don't like myself, it's low as in... I understand that not everyone is going to like me because of my weight. I don't buy sexy clothes because I am waiting for my life to start and my life starts when I'm a few stones lighter. That's pretty much a fact. People will judge me as being lazy even though I'm the hardest worker I know. The fact that I can't resist a cupcake makes me worse than someone beautiful who stabs her boyfriend in the knee with a fork.
We live in a superficial society. I can't change it. I can try to change myself but I don't know how much good that will do.
I'm a blogger on livejournal but over the past few months, I've been thinking about making a separate fat blog. I don't want my friends to find out about my insecurities because first of all, they really wouldn't understand and secondly, they wouldn't know what to do about it because I am so put together. I'm always the one with the solutions. So why can't I come up with for myself?
I don't really know what will come of this blog. Maybe I'll finally start accepting myself or maybe I'll lose some weight and look back on this as a learning experience. I'm not exactly sure what this is going to do for me but people who write fat blogs always feel so much more confident for some reason. I am happy with my life and hopefully this is going to help me become happier with myself.
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