A little culture...

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Some light reading.

As of late, I have discovered a real fondness for writing... hence the blog. 


I started writing articles on ezinearticles.com about growing up, shit that's happened to me etc.. It's a fairly healing experience, and it's dug up a lot of pent up feelings that I didn't know I had. Something to consider for yourselves? What works for one person, might not necessarily work for another but give it a shot. 


The only real problem I've had is that ezines doesn't like you to use swear words.. you have to keep it PG. But not on my blog!! I wouldn't call it R rated, maybe like a 14+? 


I don't expect all of you to click the link to read each and every article, so I'm going to post something I've written from time to time in hopes that you enjoy it. 


Even if you thinks it's a piece of shit, let me know... but let me down gently.. I'm over-sensitive lately.

Here's the first one... 



Size Four








I'm not sure how I managed to have a good self body image growing up, maybe because the tag on my pants said "size four" and when I looked in the mirror I liked the way my clothes fit me. I remember on the way back from a track and field training week in Alabama where I went up to the front of the bus to get a sandwich from my coach.

"Don't you think you've had enough already?" She replied hiding the sandwiches under the seat. "You've already had two."

I was denied a stupid little sandwich. I think my jaw dropped when she said that to me, but instead of fighting it, I just went back to my seat and sat in disbelief that someone could say that to me with a straight face. What I really wanted to do was grab the whole tupperware container of those stupid little sandwiches and stuff my face. I wanted to get fat out of spite. I wished I were fat... I don't think anybody has ever thought that before. I just don't know how anyone, especially a "mature" adult could say that to a teenaged girl. I hated my coach for that.
Then, one night not long afterward the first incident I heard my parents talking about my "growing butt" downstairs when they thought I was out of ear shot. It got me wondering, how many other "disappointments" do they talk about behind my back? How many other times have they discussed me and my tendency to "act out" and my "serious personal issues" as Dad put it to people who dressed in black and had earrings in their noses. Just because someone has an earing in their nose and spikey hair doesn't make them any worse than anyone else. Sometimes the people who are what you call "different" are the sanest people out there. Look at me. I don't have the black clothes or hair, I dress fairly conservatively and I am probably more screwed up than a lot of people out there.

Hearing my parents discuss my body downstairs got me so enraged. With tears pouring down my face I stripped off all my clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. What did I see? I saw a young woman who was too tall with scraggly blonde hair, too many freckles but a body that I was proud of. So, I did what I should have done to my coach a few weeks prior. I marched downstairs, grabbed a whole container of ice cream from the fridge and a box of chocolate cookies and started filling my face right in front of them. My parents were looking at me like I had lost my mind.

"What is your problem?" Questioned my Mom with obvious concern on her face. I took a deep breath mustered up some courage and shouted. "The next time you two want to fucking discuss my growing behind do it out of earshot!!" and with that I stomped upstairs to polish off my container of ice cream in solitude. It didn't take five minutes for them to come upstairs where we sat, cried and talked about the importance of appreciating your own unique beauty. I have great parents.
Do not in a million years let anyone whether it be a friend, that bully in school or even an adult make you feel embarrassed about your body. Don't let anyone influence your decision to change the shape of your body because only you can do that in a healthy and safe way.
Luckily, I never suffered from anorexia or bulimia and even though the tag on the back of my pants might have gone up a couple of sizes, I am still proud of the body I have and wouldn't change it for anyone.



E-Pro: Beck

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