Thursday, July 7, 2011

Show Momma Some Love

I'm going to censor myself today because the words that came out of my mouth this morning even made me feel dirty. 

"What the fack!? You've got to be facking joking! I can't facking believe this shot! Fack fack fack facking bullshot!"

I stepped off the scale. Then I kicked said scale, which caused it to reset to zero. 

"That's facking better!" I said. Stepping back on I said a little prayer, crossed myself (and I'm not even Catholic), and waited. Obviously my scale is broken. The lying sack of sh*t scale doesn't work right. It's a piece of crap and next time I am buying a scale that, much like my exes, loves me enough to lie to me.  

But that isn't really the point of today's little rant. No, kids... today's rant is about loving yourself. I don't mean the sort of thing you do when you're all lonely and the house is yours and you are enjoying a bit of naked time and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and you say "I guess neither one of us has plans for tonight". Get your mind out of the gutter (and while you're down there picking yours up grab mine too). 

Right this moment I am trying really hard to imagine a group of men sitting around bashing themselves to their friends. 

"Jeff you don't know how lucky you are to have great pecs! I can't fill out my Guido Gear to save my life." 
"Oh stop, Bill. You're just being nice. I've just been so down lately. My hair is ugly, my ass is flat, and I need to lose 10 pounds. I SUCK" 

(weeping begins) 
(Bill hears 'suck' and gets sort of giggly) 
(Jeff punches Bill for taking it the wrong way) 

I don't recall ever being asked by a man, "So... how much do you weigh?" or "Were your breasts always saggy or is that a new development?" or "Have you ever considered butt implants? You'd be great if your ass was a little rounder." I suppose it's possible that one day someone will. If he does I will have something witty to say like, "Is 2 inches the standard penis size the hospital offers for all transgender patients or did you purposely choose the size small?" 

My friend Deanna told me once, "You should stand in front of the mirror and run your hands over your body. Make sure your man is looking. Then say to your reflection, 'You are so luscious'! He will believe it too! He doesn't know unless you tell him!" That seems to be pretty damn accurate really. She's a smart woman. 

It's time to stop the self-hate crap. If confidence is sexy, then what in the hell are we doing wearing least year's unsexy self-deprecation? Tonight I'm putting on my nicest workout gear, my trainers, and I'm heading outside. If some guy looks at me I'm going to give him that, "Baby, I would tear you up! You have NO idea" look. It's time to show Momma some love! I sure as hell hope you can't get arrested for being too awesome because I'm gonna bring it! 



 







2 comments:

Leauxra said...

I got on the scale at work at the "wellness center", because I work in corporate hell, but I guess it's OK because they have a workout room where I get to get sweaty with my coworkers... ah... wait. I mean...

ANYWAY. I got on the scale, and I was like, "ARE YOU F*%$ING KIDDING ME? WTF, you ASSHAT!" really loud. Oh. The scale was broken. ACTUALLY broken. And then I saw my boss' boss trying to ignore my tantrum from over by the lockers.

I made a vow today to never get on a scale again, because I LIKE how I look, but every time I get on I get all pissy and weird.

Angie said...

Right on! Good for you! We had a wellness center at one of my previous jobs. I refrained from using it because when I workout I look like I am sweating pure lard. No one wants to see that... especially me.

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