Friday, April 18, 2014

The Song of Myself


(when I happen to see my changing body in the mirror...or just walk into a different room)

MY WASHER WORKS! Don't know what happened the other day. Maybe it was angry. I wouldn't drain or go behond the agitation cycle. (See? Angry!)

The places on my body that had more weight for the last few years seem to be rather elephant-skin like now.

Hmm. Fat not poofing the skin out as much. Hopefully I won't look like a wrinkly crone before my time.

I'm freeing up the notion of natural beauty I've been working on for some time now. I'm looking at my un-makeupped face differently. I come from a long line of southern women who wouldn't dare leave the house without full makeup, hair, well dressed with a girdle. My mother rebelled and I have followed her, but some things have lingered, like:

My eyes not having mascara or liner looks odd to me. I didn't wear much more makeup than that but I'm looking beyond what I perceive as too pale and short eyelashes, and red toned skin/eyelids.

I'm looking at the color of my eyes and the shape of my brows.

The curve of my cheekbones starting to peek out on my face again and my genetically beautiful skin. I thank my grandmother and my mother for that one. Pretty good for a girl whose skin looked awful as a teenager.

I'm looking at the perky ski slope of my nose.

I'm looking at my legs and starting to see again in my calves the reason I was dubbed "Legs" (during the ZZ Top era) in high school.

I'm looking at the stretch marks on my belly and upper thighs and remembering how happy (and terrified) I was to be pregnant.

I'm looking at my smaller breasts and seeing their full, soft, roundness, as opposed to the backbreaking and ponderous FUN BAGS Ex used to call them. Ex always insisted on calling them The Boys to irritate me, along with a lot of other disrespectful names and comments about my body that caused me to hide it. I stopped wearing shorts or tank tops for years before we divorced. I wore control top pantyhose and girdles and heavy bras to reshape myself into the body he wanted me to have. I would never have left the house bra less or worn a bikini. I wore a lot of uncomfortable clothing to please him, and wore makeup to feel pretty. Dressed the way he thought was sexy.

If you could see me now you'd see that I dress comfortably/eclectically...sort of like a boho-hippie with my own twist, in natural fabrics.

Lots of feelings and new thoughts in my head about my changing body and outlook, and seeing myself through Partner's eyes has never helped me feel more lovely and self confident, even ten lbs ago.

I see the curve of my hip, and my waist reappearing.

I see my hair getting longer the way I've always wanted it.

I feel free and supported to look and feel how I want to look and feel. And the self confidence I used to feel is creeping back as I stop feeding my negative emotions with starch and fat and sugar.

For all Partner's support and encouragement, I adore him more. I sent him this note and he remarked that it was sweet. "The song of yourself."

Thank you for accepting my heart and my body and my mind for what they are even when I didn't.

I am finally becoming me.

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