I don’t enjoy social subtlety with people that I am close to. I prefer open and blunt communication. The reason being, every time you leave your front door, to your coworkers, acquaintances, strangers on the street: it’s not real communication. It’s all a game. Small talk and the social contract.
What I like about the internet is that the standard flip flops. There is no pressure to be “nice.” People say exactly what they want, online, under the cover of anonymity. Which is why, on certain matters, I respect online strangers’ opinion more than that of people I know personally.
I don’t want to hide anything from people that are close to me. I want to have complete trust and openness that I can have no where else. But I can’t have it, unfortunately. My closest friends are not the same as me. The game of social niceties is still played. I can never be sure if they’re actually being truthful, or just “nice.”
This all comes back to the “You’re Beautiful” conversation, that I wish had never occurred. My husband and my “close” friend (not really that close or have much in common, I am coming to realize) both telling me, over and over, that I am pretty and I am not large-framed. Absolutely humiliating.
I don’t trust their words. Because my husband is my husband, he will always say I’m beautiful even if I had the plague. To his credit.
I especially don’t trust the close friend’s word. She is a body acceptance/SJW type who would also say I was beautiful even if I had the plague. “Every body is a good body.” Yes, all bodies are “good.” They are warm, and breathing, and each one has a destiny all of its own. Everyone deserves to live and be happy.
However, how much you can achieve happiness by is, unfortunately, is either aided or hindered by your physical appearance. If you don’t notice it happening, then you are probably attractive or just socially unobservant. It is a sad fact. It is reality. It is what my friend with her rose-tinted glasses can’t see, or at least can’t admit to herself. I acknowledge reality. I have never and will never turn away from the awful things of the world. Too many people do that as it is.
Maybe it has meant abandoning self-preservation, ruining the buffer and comfort of ideas such as what my friend subscribes to. But the clarity I feel is more valuable to me. Of course, that clarity sometimes doesn’t extend to myself. I don’t know if I can trust the way I interpret the mirror. Or, if I can trust people who only want to be nice, not honest.
So, for a straight opinion, I turned to the strangers on the internet. Yep. I know. How can that be a better solution? How? But it was, sadly. They have no obligation to be kind. Of course, they can also be cruel, but I can deal with that. It’s just the way the internet is.
After interacting with anonymous strangers that I provided with my picture, I’ve come to the conclusion that my face is not ugly. My jaw is not masculine. I’m just plain. And that’s okay, better than ugly.
I’m less okay with learning that no matter how much weight I lose, because of my wide hips, shoulders, and thick bull neck, I will always look overweight.
Part of me wants to throw a tantrum, screaming,”It’s not fair.”
I want to scream and cry that I was not born a “normal” woman, with narrow shoulders, small wrists and ankles, a slender neck, etcetera. I will always be a joke to others, the “fat” chick even if I have less than 20% body fat. And since I’m at 23% body fat, which is low-normal, it’s just awesome. So awesome.
Oh, no. It’s starting. Sassy Soulful Inner Southern Mama, activate.
Hey. You. Quit ruminating on it. It’s going to be alright. Fack everyone else, you are a survivor. You have already ensured your survival. You will never have to rely on your looks or femininity to make it. You don’t have to live the same sad life as your mother or your stepmother. It’s okay your body deviates from the norm, because your mind will take you further than your body ever will. It’s going to be fine, little girl.