That Greasy Bean

Readers, I have been thinking a lot lately.  About who I am, who I used to be, it's been exhausting, but interesting.

I was thinking back to being an awkward preteen.  I felt like the ugliest girl in the world, or at very least, in my school.  I was covered in pimples, and hopelessly trying to cover them up with way too much makeup, no blush, and hardly any mascara.  I looked like a ghost with greasy hair and terrible teeth.  My boobs hadn't quite come in so I was just weird shaped.  I was like a chubby bean in weird clothes.

Despite my efforts to be funny and friendly (since ugly girls shouldn't be mean), I was a mess inside.  I didn't feel like I was worth anything.  That year I also got my first pair of glasses, and I went from being an invisible dowdy girl to being the dowdy girl with glasses.  I became noticed.  Which in my mind, made everything worse.  I had good friends who cared about me, and I felt lucky, but I always felt like the ugliest girl in the room.  I had one boy that occasionally flirted with me, which always made my whole day, if not my whole week.

I dreamed of growing up, my skin clearing up, finally stop looking like a bean, and figure out the whole makeup thing.  A girl can dream right?

Well, I got a little older, my small C's turned into DD's, and after some serious time with a mirror and makeup over one summer, I finally figured out what color my face was supposed to look like.  However, in my head I was still that greasy bean.

Then my grandmother moved in with us when I was 16.  She told me time and time again how no one was ever going to love me because I was so ugly and so fat.  This went on for over a year, almost every day.  That really takes its toll when you are just starting to date.  How can you get excited about a whole new world of activities you never had the opportunity to explore before when you are told almost daily that you are worth nothing?

Well, fast forward a few more years, I started going to college, and slowly I started gaining a little more confidence.  But I still kept feeling like that greasy bean.

I'm staring my 26th birthday in the face now, and I can happily say my grandmother was totally wrong about me.

I have the love of such an amazing man that my greasy bean days have grown fewer and further between.  I can look in the mirror with no makeup on and feel OK about the way I look.  Not great, not "damn I am one hot chick," but I am slowly getting there, and I hope by the time I have a daughter I can feel that good about myself.  I want to love myself as much as Sky loves me, and I want to teach my daughter and/or nieces that they are beautiful no matter what they look like.  I don't want any girl who I have any influence over to ever feel like they are less than they are.

I grew up spending a lot of time wishing that I looked different.  I would spend countless minutes staring in the mirror thinking about how much happier I would be if I was actually one of the pretty girls.  I don't want that for anyone else.  Life is too short to spend time hating yourself because you don't look exactly right.

Readers, take a minute to love yourselves today.  Do something nice for yourselves.  You earned it.

Keep it real readers.

New Year, New Challenges

Readers, as always, It has been too long.  However, I think three months isn't as bad as some of my other gaps in bloggery, but nonetheless I really need to step up.

November was great.  Thanksgiving was delicious, and I had three of them.  Well, we did.  Christmas was awesome, I was completely spoiled beyond words, and I spoiled Sky back.  I got in an argument with my mom that lasted a few days, so basically yeah, it was a holiday.

The week after Christmas always makes me a little blue.  It has as long as I can remember.  As a kid, it meant Christmas was over and I would be returning to school soon, so the remaining days of vacation always felt a little hollow after that blessed day.  As I got older, the hollowness took on a different tone.  Instead of dreading school back in session, where I would show off my latest score of new clothes and gadgetry, I was becoming acutely aware of the passage of time.  I was getting older, and those precious days that I had left of my life were diminishing slowly.  What was I doing with this time?  What was I doing with my life?  Was I doing anything worth while?  Did I do anything worth a damn this past year?

It is a pensive time for me, this week after Christmas.  I also get it the week after my birthday, but that post will come in June.  After feeling sorry for myself for not "living" the way I had hoped to (traveling, meeting new people, doing something that makes a difference, volunteer more, accomplish a huge goal, yada yada yada), I finally, around December 30th, get this newfound feeling of hope for the upcoming year.  I promise myself that I will at least take one trip that is purely for fun or to see someone that I care about that I don't see enough, or I will find a new goal and accomplish it, or I will lose 50 pounds, or I will join a cause and make a difference.

This year is black belt year.  I am being evaluated for my final review next month, and dammit, I am scared as hell.  Do I know my material?  Yes, mostly.  Can I handle the physical strain of the test?  I like to think I can, but I should really work on my cardio endurance.

Then what am I so afraid of?  I am working almost every night on something, whether it be techniques, knowledge, or just doing sit-ups in my jammies, I am doing something.  I am becoming stronger every day.

But something inside me keeps telling me I suck.

I had a long, serious talk with Sky about it last night, and I have found this new fight inside me.

I don't suck.  I may be chunky and kinda wobbly, but I don't suck.  I have to keep reminding myself of this, and I will as long as I need to.

I have started counting my calories every day with the help of an app on my phone.  Because of that, I have lost four pounds since the first of the year.  It's not much, but it's progress, and progress is progress.

Sky and I are also planning on starting a new self-defense class.  As someone who has been sexually assaulted as a teenager, and having such shitty self-esteem that I have let others take advantage of me a number of times, I am deeply passionate about self-defense.  I feel like everyone should have a basic knowledge of it, and hopefully they will never have to use it, but they will feel empowered to never let themselves be victims at the hands of another person.

So this is my year ahead.  Get my black belt, go to my cousin's wedding, teach self-defense, and take better care of my health.  I think I have covered all my bases.  Hell, maybe I will feel so good about my progress I will decide it's time to make a baby.  Maybe.

Anyway, keep it real readers.