The Body Image Project – “she’s completely mental”

July 18.

This will be the first Body Image Project post that does not include a picture, but of all the parts of me that make me who I am, this one does the most.

My brain.

I’m not kidding when I say this – I believe one hundred million percent that my brain is my best feature.

I suppose that could be kind of a sad thing.  In the same way people say “she’s got a great personality” to cover a perceived physical deficit, saying “my brain is my best feature” could appear to be an aesthetic cop-out.

It is, kind of, but I don’t think that’s sad.

For the majority of my life, I did not feel attractive.  On bad days I STILL feel unattractive.  Even now, even after all the therapy and growth, there are still days when the PMS freight train rolls into the station, unloads baggage and bloaty self-hate, throws tampons at my head, sprinkles body odor on everything, then leaves me to clean up the mess.  I do not feel pretty on those days.

On those days, and on all the days I felt the same sense of disgusting worthlessness before, I chose to define my worth through the one thing I could control, and the one thing that made me unique:

my brain.Read More


Three Lies Women Believe That Ruin Their Lives – Identifying Half-Truths

You’re being lied to.

[“No, no, no, no one is lying to me.  The people in my life tell me the truth.”]

You spoke up quick!  I’m so glad.  How have you been?    ….but yeah no.  You’re being lied to, and a lot.  People tell you lies all the time, and some of them are big ones.

[“…well, I guess people tell me white lies sometimes, but just to make me feel better, or to keep me safe, or because they love me.  I do it too sometimes.  Those don’t really count.”]

Yes, they do count.  And YES, you do it too, and way more than “sometimes.”

Whether disguised as half-truths or white lies, lies are still lies.  They still count.

Sometimes we tell ourselves lies because we need to feel better.  We  intentionally convince ourselves of something that isn’t true, because dealing with the lie is way more palatable.  “These pants are tight, I must be bloated from p-week.”  (Couldn’t have anything to do with the family size bag of –itos I ate for lunch yesterday, but whatever.)  Sometimes we don’t THINK we’re lying, but we purposefully avoid facing something we don’t want to acknowledge.  Avoiding truth is still lying.  “She’s my MOM, I know she loves me.”  (Nevermind that you feel sick dread before you see her, she drags you through the ringer when she’s with you, and you feel like crap for days after you’ve visited.)

When it comes to truth and lies, there is no middle ground.  Things are TRUE, or they’re not.
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