There is a mental state
I strive to achieve a homeostatic state a humming a lull like those alpha wave tapes they sold in the 60's
I need to hear that in my head all day. Instead of the clanging of my thoughts and the clashing of my
wants versus what I should do need to do and the sad, bright violins from "Sunshine" so melancholy
so consistent that remind me how it is not to have anyone understand
Okay... I must begin this post by stating that my family's women are VAIN. I dare say most Haitians are, but that's a horrid, sweeping generalization. With that being said, I'm having a bout of bad self esteem this morning and my rational self think it's completely unfounded. I was actually talking to my brother last night about how you don't appreciate the body that you're in until it's gone. When I was 14, I managed to get my figure into one of those then popular En Vogue dresses size 8 back then - but muscular. I WAS THE BOMB! In hindsight, I can see I was PERFECT for the dress. But back then... I obsessed about the little half of a pouch that may have stuck out if I jutted my pelvis forward hard enough. How naive I was. I wish I could have relished it more. Instead I wore big bagginess all the time JUST IN CASE... to hide ... ALL my features.
So here I am again today... 16 years later... Having soared up to a size 20... back down to a size 14 ... I'm wearing a size 16 dress that I purchased years ago and wasn't able to wear for a while... and I'm actually in it. (I should be jumping for joy). But... what am I obsessing about. Class? Anyone? RIIIIGHT... the SAME dumb kangaroo pouch that I think I've had since I was 2. Of course it's much more prominent than it used to be at age 14... but a LOT less than it was at a size 20. I should be marching up and down the street, proud of my progress. But I'm sitting here contemplating another outfit. Even my mom said it was okay... but stared at me a little too long, which to me means... NO. And I've gone to the full length mirror about 10 times. And each time she asks me "Did you do something different to it? What'd you add?" (teasing me). So I'm blogging it out so I get the courage to walk out there and hope that the world doesn't see a big blaring target on my stomach when I debut my newly slimming figure. I hope I'm not tugging and fussing at it to MAKE people stare at me. (kinda like I'm doing now just SITTING HERE). I'm a mess. My dad said "I don't know why you think your stomach shows.... you barely eat anything..." AWWW! Thanks daddy. I think he's the ONLY soul in the whole universe that NEVER said anything about my weight... all these years. Ignorance is bliss.
I'm walking out with this dress, people.... WISH ME LUCK. I might even be so bold as to take a picture in it. *crossing fingers* *tugging at dress*
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** addendum 9:23PM** Okay... I made it through the day... basically hiding behind my desk for the most part. But when I did come out of my building, I got to the point of "fuck it". But then cats were attempting the holleration!!!! AMAZING. I had my homie take a pick of me for me to share with you all who gave me strength. I STILL SEE the pouch... but moreso... and better -- I see my mommy in her prime. And that means more to me. I stopped tugging at the dress.
Thanks folks for helping me get through the day!!!
