I have no willpower. None. Zilch. Nada. On Sunday and Monday I ate all the candy in our Easter basket except for the Lindt bunnies - the crown jewels of the candy menagerie. I was saving them for a special occasion. I take the term "special occasion" liberally, and I apparently thought a Wednesday evening was special enough, so I ate it.
After spinning class. I was still sweating.
I was planning on just eating the ears, but Matt went outside to trim our butterfly bush and left me alone. It was a dastardly two minutes of chocolately fingers and brazenly ripping foil wrappers. And you never just eat the ears.
A few people have commented on my candidness regarding my last post, where I was a little too eager to talk about my stomach paunch and "butt" scar. Even Matt, who I can safely say loves the flabby and floppy, asked, "You don't feel self-conscious writing that?" And I don't. I'll be 28 next month and making a crack about my not-so-smooth ass (get it, a CRACK?! okay, okay) is sincerely not the "I'll be the funny girl to cover my insecurities" shtick, it's simply that I have a dimpled posterior. (And really, who doesn't?)
Matt claims women do this to themselves (the primping and prettying and the agonizing) for other women. I think that lovable nerd is onto something.
So that's why I'm regaling you with tales of my rear-end front-end. If it's possible, I'm celebrating the not-so-sordid details of my body, because, my dear, who gives a damn? If you're lucky, you might also get a mouthful of the following, as well:
• Oprah arm jiggle (that's the under part of your arm that wiggles and jiggles when you wave, and I've got my fair share of it)
• stretch-marked thighs that refuse to part (and thus eventually ruin every pair of pants I own)
• less-than-perky bosom (at barely 28, and childless, I'm a little confused about this)
• thin hair (I am convinced I'll be a bald old lady and was happily surprised at the fabulous wig offerings of Raquel Welsh)
You know those women who own their imperfections? Who strut and make it work? They have charisma, chutzpah and, to channel Tyra Banks, are "fierce".
I am not one of them. And I'm fine with that.
I remark on my imperfections because I just don't care that much. If I don't care about my wiggle, you certainly won't. But that's not to say I wouldn't take thick hair and toned arms if I had the chance- of course I would - let's not get all crazy here! But I'm done thinking about it, and this much I know is true: A "butt" scar will forever be funny.
THANK YOU!!!!! I am so tired of women constantly agonizing about every imperfection of their body and every morsel they put in their mouth. You just can't get them to shut up already. You are my hero!
ReplyDeleteCyndy
Kathryn; I love, adore, admire and covet your candidness, and never realized until this moment of disclosure that you were anything less than fierce and built of self-ownage. This + ability to eat Lindt chocolate = you are my hero, as well.
ReplyDeleteP.S. I used to be related to Raquel Welch by marriage to my great uncle. Until he cheated on her and they divorced. So we were related for like five years. ... since I have no ancestral connection to Edward III or Columbus, I am complelled to stake that particular micro-scale claim to fame at any opportunity.
loves it!!! you aren't doing the whole faux insecurity or really insecurity, you are who you are and that rocks.
ReplyDeleteGirl! You are so, so fabulous, and I thoroughly enjoyed this post, most notably the crack pun.
ReplyDeleteI like to think of myself as perfectly imperfect, and I am glad to be so. Your candor absolutely comforts and refreshes me; it also makes me laugh at the fact that we have so much in common!
You are also my hero!! It's nice to see a Crohn's person talk about being overweight. I honestly thought I was the only one. I was the skinny Crohnie for so long and then, with all the steroids, hormones to get pregnant, depression when it didn't happen(not to scare you) and let's face it, all the carbs I eat because they don't upset my intestines, I now see both sides. Yes, it's awful when you are super skinny from Crohn's and I realize this must be worse for men than it is women. But when you say you have Crohn's and people look at you like "how can you, you are "fluffy"?" it's a little unsettling. But, like you, I just don't seem to care anymore. Thanks for being so amazingly awesome!!! Much love!
ReplyDeleteJenni
Wow! I'm sitting back in bed feeling very smug right about now and sayin', "Why, I think you struck a womanly nerve!" I, too, am sick - and saddened - by the primping, the plucking, the teasing, the whatever-ing a woman's body goes through. That's not to say I love being a woman; I do. I wear make-up. I love pretty ballet flats. God knows I spend too much time on Etsy and in Target's jewelry section. But enough is enough. Being a girl should be fun, not constant work (and I.do.not.like.work).
ReplyDeleteRagamuffin:
You gotta cling to that story! If nothing else, it's fabulous party fodder!!!
Jenni:
You know how many folks with Crohn's eat, then you-know-what, and then feel awful and stop eating? I never stop eating. If I, uh, "eliminate", I gotta fill the void!
Thank you everyone for the compliments. I re-read them 3x...namely because I was never called a hero before! You made my day a thousand times brighter.