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Writer's picturejodi

Sunday Confessions

This might be a riff off of an old thought, but it's still presently a thought.

So that tells me it's something worth discussing.


When this photo was taken I remember being ridiculously self conscious that I was fat.

Period. End sentence.

Like what the ACTUAL fu€k?!?!

I was fit but extremely thin,

and even close to FAT.

And what an awful word.

But I thought it.


I remember pinching the skin under my navel and being disappointed with myself.


Zoom in on it,

I'll wait....


*


*


*


That's right.

You see it.

I was pinching SKIN.

Just skin.

But that in itself made me disappointed with myself?!


That is mind blowing.


What was I even thinking?


My bikini was custom made ~

that's right,

Custom made.

Because

off the rack fit oddly.

In my mind anyway.


Oddly = Not Perfect = Human


Oddly Because of mismatched proportions.

Mismatched proportions that brought up my insecurity of my boobs being too small.

Not even boobs but more kitties ~ with a t.

A little itty bitty t. Not even a capital T.

Mom hips. Genetically itty bitty boobies.

But I was wearing a Size 0/2 ~ so did I really have "hips"?

How could I? Physically?

Where the hell did that mindset even come from?

Who stuck the hot poker of that warped ideal into my brain?

Was it society or magazines or photoshop and movies?

Was it my upbringing and the era I was raised in?


Was it an Industry icon that told me at an audition

"Don't gain ANY weight, you're already kinda hippy".

Or was it this kind, well respected casting director that said

"You cant get ANY bigger, you're pushing it already".

Was that truly kind?

At the time I thought she was kind.

Or Was it the photographer at a headshot photoshoot who said

"You're not the worlds thinnest model".

I'm not a model ffs, I'm an Actor for crying out loud!

A Size 0/2 ACTOR with talent,

washboard Abs,

toned pipes and

a personality

but felt like my bod was not good

enough...

which made me feel like I wasn't good enough,

even though I was getting tons of work ~

what a MeSsEd Up thing that is!


Ugh.


Fast Forward

to...

back injury,

stress of life

& illness

& watching

someone I love become unwell,

And deteriorate.

Then

COVID.

WORK.

Working through Covid.

ALL the awful Sh*t in the world.

WORK.

COVID.


The Stress of doing it ALL.

Emotionally,

physically,

mentally.

The ridiculous lack

of sleep.

Cortisol through the roof.

My soul hurt.


It still hurts.


So... I discovered that I stress ate,

carbs particularly,

not cool,

but satisfying.

Honestly there could be worse ways to cope.

Raw honesty,

there are way worse things then carbs to be addicted to that make you skinny...

but I always wanted to be in control of my body.

But that's ridiculous because I've never been in control of my body,

it's just in my mind that I thought I was in control.


So many stories to unravel here, but I'l just stick to this one.


Truly

when I look back over my life,

if I'm to be authentically honest.

I don't remember I time the when I ever was in control of my body...

Before now.


Because judgement of a female body begins from the time that she is born.

And it carries on until we no longer let it....

no longer let it control us at least.

But The judgement will forever continue.


As women we look in the mirror and see gravity take our bodies south.

But for some reason at this moment I'm speaking more specially of our breasts;

gravity takes them south.

No matter what size. It happens.

It saddens us.

Well, Most of us.

Unless we have fierce self esteem.

Or we are augmented.

Then you're good.

And I commend you.


But those of us who haven't implanted gel pads under our flesh may be disheartened by what we see.

And if not disheartened, it at least makes us reflect upon times we thought we were less than perfect but now realize we were our most perfect selves.

Then We criticize ourselves in this moment for the time we criticized ourselves in the past when we now realize we never should've.

Well that's where I am right now.

So Then I question....

Do men stand in the mirror and judge their walnuts?

I hope they don't.

Do they obsess over the way they hang lower than they did a decade ago?

Do they cringe when they hit the toilet bowl water?

Would they ever consider surgically inserting gel packs to plump them back to their youth? Like they want for our breasts.

Is that an absurd thought?

It is, and I hope men don't do those things

but why is it an absurd thought?

Because it's certainly not an absurd thought to talk about a woman's body in such way?

Why are we like this as a society?

Can we have that conversation?

I'm curious.

Why is a woman's body open forum?

Especially weight and breasts.

When Breasts have one sole purpose in this world and it's not for ogling,

that sole purpose is breastfeeding.


I look at this pic & think how could THIS have ever been considered fat?! And why did I care that my breasts weren't Barbie doll big?! Which frankly would've made me look freakishly disproportionate. They matched the rest of me. The same as they do now & I don't want them.

But Why did I allow myself to believe any negative words spoken to me about my size by anyone?

By what standards would THIS body be too "hippy" or "pushing it"

in reference to the size of an actual

full grown adult human being?!?!


I mean seriously,

we have organs & a multitude of feet of bowel in there.


And we're no longer twelve year old girls.


I look at this picture and it brings tears to my eyes.

Why did I not love me more?

Why did I judge her so harshly?

Where did that come from?


I mean I could answer that, it was somewhat of a rhetorical question...

I spent many hours with a great therapist figuring out a lot of that sh*t.


The best part of this photo is the fierce love I felt

and feel

for my two people that are standing with me.

They are the best parts of me.

And I hope that I have instilled within them

to love fiercely,

starting with themselves.


xo





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