Body Image

January 11, 2017 — Leave a comment

Good evening bitches, I’m back for another round. First off, a warm thanks to all who are viewing and reading my thoughts. I hope that I am enlightening and/or entertaining you.

Now, on to tonight’s topic: body image. Or, I should say: my body image. When I say that, I am not talking about the “Girls need to be size 2, thigh gap, fat-shaming” we see portrayed in magazines and fashion articles. What I am talking about is what I see, or feel, or think about myself when I close my eyes at night, or look in the mirror in the morning.

What I see is not me. And, it makes me unhappy often times. I do not like the image my body presents to me in the mirror. The images that swirl in my brain behind closed eyes at night,  consist of shoulder brunette length hair,  a hint of red, curled around soft, feminine cheek bones.I see dark, smoldering eyes peering out from underneath my bangs. I see smooth, high cheek bones, a narrow jaw line, and no jowls. I see the face of an attractive, forty-something woman. At least that’s what my my brain is showing me.

Then I wake up and look in the mirror and that is not what I see. My reflection disappoints with the look of stubbly whiskers, a receding hairline, and droopy jowls. It’s the antithesis of the attractive woman in my mind.

I can fix some things. For instance, I can create the smoldering, sexy eyes. I can give the illusion of the smooth, high cheek bones. But I feel it’s all just a mockery that’s covering up what’s underneath. But still, I do what I can to work towards the image that resides in my mind.

But, with all that, there’s the rest of my body. The other images conjured up by my brain are a thinner, more fit woman. I’m not suggesting that I want to look like a model off the runway in Paris. I’m talking about a healthy, average, body weight woman. And, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that’s how I should look because “society says I should look like that”. For example, the few outfits I do own are a size 20 or above, XXL or larger. The woman I see myself as would be happy with a size 14 to 16 pencil skirt, or dress. That’s just how my mind envisions what I should look like. That’s what I see in my sleep.

Is that wrong of me to want that? To want to see what my bind is showing me?



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