I’m writing this on the muggiest, sweatiest and officially the hottest day of the year. Sandwiched between two equally sweaty fellas I’m almost certain Hell must be cooler- surely.
I entered the new year with that new year new me feeling which is very rare for me but I’ve been determined to see out my 20’s with as much courage, love and good vibes as I can muster. Coming up to the halfway point of 2017 however, self- doubt has started to seep into my soul- but as with everything, this too shall pass- I’m confident of it.
I’ve ruminated on questions like;
Why isn’t my bum at its desired shape yet?
Why haven’t I completely conquered anxiety?
Will my business ventures EVER take flight?
Why haven’t I kissed Idris Elba?
Will I ever be content if I don’t reach my goals?
It is frustrating to say the least to know that life is a journey you can’t always speed walk but still have the urge to fast track everything.
I may never kiss Idris (his loss really) but I can confidently say I’m impressed with my resolve to keep plodding along even when life feels a tad hopeless.
I’ve found a million ways that don’t work, won’t work, can’t work but I’m not deterred.
My ass cheeks may not be of Khlo Money proportion but I’m at peace with that. The notion of what could be, what lies ahead is still very intoxicating and I’m content with getting drunk of dreams and aspirations of what lies ahead.
I won’t lie to you, some days are a complete clusterfuck. Some days are a mess. Some days are laden with such bad vibes nothing seems worth it. One day at a time. You are enough~ Namaste
The last time I wrote about body positivity it was vapid, lacklustre and somewhat self-serving. Okay maybe it wasn’t that bad but in hindsight even mentioning the ‘obesity epidemic’ (yawn) was unnecessary in that specific context. Fat shaming is rife with fake concern for other’s people health- which newsflash, you simply can’t gauge by looking at someone’s body. And why is someone else’s health of such concern to you, and why don’t the smokers in your office building receive that same deep level of ‘care’ and ‘concern’ you so easily pass unto strangers?
It may come as a shock to many people, however what other people decide to do or not do with their bodies is of no concern to you or I. And no, we’re not talking about someone wielding a knife and chasing you down some dark alley, that type of ‘doing’ with their body is a crime- RUN. I’m talking about the countless people who think they should have some sort of opinion on other people’s bodies because they carry more flesh on their bodies than they do.
Constantly telling fat people they need to lose weight, fat shaming, fake concern trolling etc. is unkind and if your goal is to help fat people get ‘healthier’ you’re doing quite the opposite. You’re fucking with their mental state, confidence, and self-esteem and there’s nothing healthy about that.
Even before I write this post I’m almost certain this is going to be a ramble because my feelings are EVERYWHERE. I knew I was engaging in emotional warfare with ‘shit/people/places’ I didn’t like, I just didn’t know this battle was as visible and as hurtful to my opponents until my dad and a friend pointed it out. As far as I was concerned this was a silent battle.
‘You’re carrying on like a recluse’
‘You’ve gone ghost’
‘You’re here with all your family but I can tell that you’re lonely’
I can honestly say I’m rarely ever honest about how i’m feeling to the people who elicit said feelings from me. I’ll speak candidly and honestly to anyone and everyone BUT the source of pain/anger/hurt. I’d rather hide, be passive aggressive, dishonest and emotionally disconnect because dealing headfirst with the issue scares me.
I would love to get to the point of telling people up front why I’m angry or upset because selfishly that is what I would expect from others- to be open and honest with me.
Maybe I can try and confront the issue when it isn’t so fresh, ask someone else to mediate or simply deal with it and accept the consequences.
I can’t preach ethical treatment for all when I continuously push people away because my need to protect myself means I can’t see it any other way.
If it matters to you, don’t hide. Don’t hide because psssttttt everyone can smell your resentment, everyone can smell you shoving your feelings into a locked box and YUP- they can hear you throwing away the key.
The smell of emotional warfare laced in resentment is pungent . Mustering the courage to face the things that hurt you isn’t always easy but you’ve got this, I’ve got this.
So this wasn’t quite the ramble- maybe it’s because I’m listening to my favourite music and sipping on some adult juice and suddenly feeling better. I guess when all else fails maybe do a little bit of what you like before laying your battle sword down.
I noticed I was pretending to dislike getting older when I would say shit like ‘I don’t even want to do anything this birthday’ but deep down I had my guest list sorted and could not wait to party and celebrate. I noticed I was lying about being broody and being eager to be married because I didn’t want to feel weird or out of place because every woman wants these things (or so we are led to believe). Or was I pretending not to care about these things so that in the event that it didn’t happen how society expected it to happen (you know; great job, marriage, kids etc) then I could simply say ‘I’ve never wanted those things anyway’.
I know so many women for whom turning say 25, 30 and 40 was such a traumatic ordeal I almost wasn’t sure if I had to fear turning said ages. When I found myself in a romantic situation that appeared destined for marriage but my spirit didn’t agree with I knew it was time to get out and start over. As appealing as being coupled up in a society that views single lasses as ‘broken’ was, I wanted a different story if possible.
I’m exhausted. I feel drained in every way possible, every way imaginable. After a good but jerky at times start to the year I’ve decided to hit the reset button and start the year all over again so Happy Freaking New Year!
I’ve ummed and ahh’d about this post because I’ve simply not had the energy to articulate myself and I still don’t but here’s a little sumn sumn.
I talk about anxiety all the time because I live with it, even when it’s not consuming me It’s lingering in the background waiting to pounce. Sometimes I cope well and sometimes I don’t.