On Being Chubby, and Trying to Not Hate It

Loving yourself is not always easy. Forever torn between wanting to accept myself in the body I have, and wanting to change my body/get back to my slender self, self contentedness is like a unicorn; hard to find, and harder still to hold on to.

You could say I have a love hate relationship with my body. There are days when I get dressed and I look in the mirror and think to myself “hell yeah, girl. You look the bomb”. And then there are other days when I avoid mirrors altogether because the sight of my own soft, round body makes me feel disgusting. Especially when I am confronted by photos of myself from a few years ago, when I was smaller and probably far more comfortable in tight fitting clothing! The thing is, where once I would have been described as svelte, these days I fall somewhere in the curvy category. Or, more accurately, I think I am actually smack bang in “chubby” territory. Which is fine…until it isn’t. And the truth is, most of the time lately, it definitely isn’t.

A lot of my close female friends are all about that female empowerment, self love, and not subscribing to mainstream ideas about beauty. They inspire me, constantly. But when I am home, stripped down naked in front of the mirror, there is a big part of me that can’t help the barrage of negative thoughts that flood my brain. I prod my soft little tummy with a finger, I grab at my wobbly inner thighs, my face scrunched in subconscious disdain. Clothes don’t fit comfortably, and I am forever conscious of the way I look, terrified that someone is going to point out that I am extra chubby lately.

It’s a horrible thing, to not feel comfortable in your own skin. And its exhausting trying to be positive about it all the time. Yes, my body is a wonderful and powerful thing, and yes I know that I should focus on the good bits, but sometimes I just feel a bit shit about it. I mean, right now is a particularly bad time, because it’s that time, which means my tummy is rounder, and achy, and I just generally feel a bit awful about everything. I am fairly certain I can be forgiven for not being all self love about things right now, and I am trying not to feel guilty about not loving myself as much as I should. It’s a process, what can I say?

In a society where we, as women, are still inundated with images of impossible standards of beauty, loving yourself can sometimes feel like an exercise in futility. But I’m trying. And hopefully I can learn to fully love myself the way I am, chubby body and all.

Long Lock Lamentations

I’m not a girly girl. I don’t like pink, I’m not overly fussed with makeup, I’m more likely to wear shorts and band tees than dresses and I’d rather watch a horror film than suffer through a chick flick. But one of the few things I’m girly about is my hair.

Indecisive and impatient to a fault, I cut my hair periodically and have never grown it much past my bra strap. Usually it gets to my shoulders and I hack it all short again. Of course I immediately regret my decision and plan to grow it again, until it reaches that same shoulder length and then I cut it and grow it and cut it and grow it and…the point is, though I have always dreamed about it, I have never had long hair. The last time I hacked it all short was November, 2012. I haven’t cut my hair since, except for a trim every six weeks or so. Despite wanting to cut it, and being frustrated by how slowly it grows, I have refrained from my urges and my hair is once again at bra strap length. This is a milestone for me, ans every compliment I receive makes me thankful I’ve stuck to my decision.

Not long after hacked it off.

But with long hair comes it’s own set of problems. Things like;
1. You find hair EVERYWHERE. With the amount of hair that I shed, I should be bald. The bathroom floor is covered with it, it clogs plug holes and gets caught on everything. I won’t lie, I’ve even found hair in my butt crack after showering. It’s a serious problem.
2. That shit tickles. I’m constantly searching for phantom hairs that have been lightly brushing my face or arms. Plus, I usually panic, thinking a spider is crawling on me and have to pull kung fu movements to attack said imaginary spider, only to find that my adversary is in fact my own hair.
3. It’s hot. With summer in fill swing, I want to cut my hair now more than ever. With so much hair, that gets progressively heavier as it grows, I get even more overheated and sweaty. Honestly, it’s like wearing a jumper on my head.
4. It gets in the way. I drive with the windows up because otherwise, I get blinded by my own hair. It falls in my face when I read, flops in my eyes when I lie down, pokes me in the eyeballs when I’m watching a movie. It’s downright irritating!
5. Headaches. Having to wear my hair up so often for various reasons, I develop headaches. Even when I tie my hair loosely, it’s not uncommon for me to have to deal with increasingly achy pain in my head region, all due to having long hair.

It’s a tough life, being a girl with long hair. Some days I love it, other days I want nothing more than to shave completely bald. For now, I shall remain steadfast in my decision to grow my hair, and just deal with all the countless issues that come with it. The things we do in the name of vanity. No wonder girls are crazy!

Progress, yo.