There is a theme on my Fetlife friends list today. It seems to be “let’s discuss our physical appearance” day. Nobody told me. But now that I know, I am going to participate. I am, after all, an advocate of bodily autonomy and a part of the size acceptance movement.
I read a lovely rant by a woman who self-identifies as a bbw. She is happy in her large and lovely body and is unafraid to eat things in public. Even cake. Even a second slice of cake. She is also unafraid to get naked in the dungeon. Because naked kinky times are fun and awesome and she can’t well have them without the “naked” part. To which I say, “Hell Yes!”
Obviously, I agree with being at home in your own skin. No matter what that skin looks like or how much skin there is. Despite what the modern media would have us believe, it’s really great to actually love yourself. As you are. Right now. You don’t need a diet, a self help guru, steroids, or a certain brand of shoes in order to love yourself. If you want those things, great! But they are not prerequisites for self-love. It’s hard in this modern world to just love ourselves. But it’s a really fantastic goal.
I read another rant by a guy whose date was complaining that his date wasn’t confident enough in her appearance. He felt she was fishing for compliments in order to bolster her flagging self-esteem. And he was having no part of that. He didn’t want to date someone who was relying on him for self-esteem. I also agree with that! Self-esteem is, by definition, derived from within. No matter how many people tell you “x”, you may or may not ever believe in “x.” It’s hard, but it’s all up to each of us to decide if we believe “x” about ourselves.
In related news, I started back on hormonal birth control. It’s been years since I have been on any. And one of the likely side effects is weight gain. I was unconcerned. I was much more interested in whether or not I am going to end up with mood swings or spotting. Both of which would be annoying to have to deal with. It’s still worth it not to have to worry about an unintended pregnancy, but it would be annoying. And there is a very very small risk for blood clots. I’m not at much of a risk, but the risk isn’t zero.
I was relating the various things that I was expecting to go through in conjunction with my new anti-pregnancy regime to the men in my life. The Wild Thing listened carefully. He expressed excitement that I would be able to better enjoy my sex life without worrying. He was also confident that I would be able to deal with the things that were potential worries for me. And wanted to know if there was anything he could do in the event I needed support.
The Husband, on the other hand, though he has spent the last year attempting to convince me that he loves my body… well, the only words that came out of his mouth were, “Do you think you will gain any weight?” Color me unconvinced.
I could turn into a weeping mess. A rampaging bitch. And not in the fun way. I could have a stroke. And his first thought was that I might get fatter. I know he loves me, but I don’t think my body is much to his liking any more. Unfortunately for him, I am one of those confident people who is at home in her own skin. No matter how much skin there is.