I am really, entirely unhappy with being the token “skinny girl” for all other’s comparison.  Really?!  Does it have to come up everyday?  Do all insecurities have to be compared to me in a way that makes me both ashamed of my looks/body/whatever, while also ashamed of my own insecurities?  Yes, I said it.  I have insecurities.  Amazing, I know. 

Yes, I am generally easy on the eyes.  Yes, I am moderately thin-ish.  Yes, I am mildly intelligent.  Should I be ashamed?  Should I feel bad?  And what do I do when compared to others in that, “oh you can wear anything,” or, “you can eat anything,” or, “it’s all so easy for you.”  Am I supposed to thank them or apologize, or maybe some jacked up combination of both…but then which comes first?  Ladies, there is no genuine compliment in the statement: You are so skinny.  Really.  Not a drop. 

Everyone has insecurities.  Everyone.  Whatever you see when you look at me, I probably don’t.  Unfortunately, because those around me feel the need to push their insecurities on me in some unfair comparison, I am not allowed to talk about my insecurities in 0pen public.  And I know it’s not just me.  I’m willing to bet anyone blessed with something has to deal with similar comparisons and guilt.

But what are my insecurities?

I’m out of shape, severely.  Mostly due to my recent struggle with Lyme disease, but also because I’m lazy.  I know it.  I deal with it daily when I’m winded going up the stairs, when I can open a bottle, when I’m so tired I want to collapse, when I can’t run or do a sit up or lift a heavy object.  And I’m insecure about it.

I have small boobs.  They’re deflated and odd and just small.  Skinny girls tend to, but not all.  It sucks.  I wouldn’t dream of wearing a bra without padding.  And even then, on my more bloaty days, my tummy still sticks out further than the girls.  I’m insecure about that too.

Speaking of my tummy…I float somewhere between a size 4 and size 8 (depending on the brand and cut), but usually settle on a size 6 and a longer than normal shirt to cover the inevitable muffin-top situation.  Oh, and you don’t see that particular pleasant feature on me because I spend most of my time holding my breath and/or sucking in my gut.  Yeah, I’m insecure about that too.

My hair rarely cooperates.  My skin rebels like a teenager.  I have wrinkly hands and rough feet.  I have varicose AND spider veins, increasingly, on my legs.  I normally have dark circles under my eyes and less than white teeth.  My upper arm flab lets me do the “double wave” thing that is oh so pleasant to watch…so I just don’t extend my arms very often in any sort of wavy motion.  And I can’t find a decent razor to save my life, so there are bumps and missed spots and ingrowns galore, all the time. 

I realize I don’t have as much to complain about as some.  I realize I’m blessed in many ways.  I realize that most people don’t even see a third of the imperfections we see in ourselves.  I can handle my own quite solitary brooding in the mirror each night.  What I can’t handle is the barrage of backwards-ass compliments that do nothing but throw others’ insecurities in my face while making my own feel unworthy and petty.  I don’t thank you and I’m not sorry!  I love all my friends dearly.  I adore the ladies I work with.  Strangers, I could mostly give two shits about.  But I will do anything to lift the spirits of those around me.  I see all of your beauty.  I envy those things that make you sparkle and shine, but I refuse to deny you the right to revel in it.  No one should be made to feel bad about the things they don’t have; but also, no one should be made to feel bad for what they do have, so just stop already!

This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 16th, 2010 at 9:31 am and is filed under rants, stuff. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.