Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Self Editing

I promise to try and not make this a post about a new year resolution, in fact, lets just cut the bullshit and say this is not. End point.
Rather, this is the post, the new post of the new year. This is where I hang the metaphorical clothes in the front yard, air out the vulnerability, and display my personal shit like some Facebook status after a bottle of wine and rom-com. And then when I am done, I hope that you, the reader of this bitchy manifesto, will provide insight, feedback, criticism, or just some semblance of guidance.

The Big One
I've been living in this "glory days" fantasy where I reminisce about the time that my stomach was flat and my tits were huge. Well lets be fair, the tits are still huge but god damn the stomach, that fucking stomach is not by any means flat. And I consistently bitch about it as I stuff an oil riddled slice of pizza, washing it down with the tequila and extra salt. And then I have the fucking nerve to wonder why I don't look like Penelope Cruz. And mind you, I'm saying this as I plunge bacon popcorn down my throat.
The truth is that the "glory days" was this small window of the ages 18-19 when a bikini didn't get lost in the jelly that I now call my body. Two years max, and yet I look on them like it was over a decade of good memories. I've spent the better part of my twenties on fad diets, gall bladder restrictions, and just wishing I could look awesome. So I guess this is where I tell you something profound like, "I find myself happy with my weight" or "I am beautiful on the inside". The latter is true, but lets get this straight, I don't want to turn 29, 30 hating the mirror. And I don't want to constantly complain. So there we go...

Hemingway's muse
Fuck that, Hemingway was an over adjective user. I just want to write. I want to put my shit out there regardless of it being liked or appreciated. As long as the love of my life turns to me and says "I love it, well done mi vida" or my aunt proudly posts to her Facebook page, the rest  is just fluff. I enjoy this, I enjoy putting all of this on a blog, in a poem, to the first few pages of what will one day be a published book. I stopped the talking and I started the writing. And I am having a really good time.

Sensitivity
Ah yes, the one thing all who know me will wholeheartedly agree on, Vanessa is fucking sensitive. Could be good, could be bad. Mostly bad. I fucking cry all the time. ALL THE TIME. And believe me, its gotten a little better. This is me at my best. I am emotional and sensitive. And I am definitely working on it, because not everyone knows how to communicate, not everyone knows how they affect others, and not everything is a personal attack. It's just a comment, a look, its not necessarily about me. I had and will continue to knock down the ego.Good God I can be a pain in the ass.

That's where I will leave it for now. Its not a resolution for the new year, because these are lifetime changes I want, not some pseudo promise for the first three weeks of the year. They are goals, promises to my partner, my family, and my future.

1 comment:

  1. I like the unapologetic tone. :) That tone is hard to achieve and keep. It is hard to feel vulnerable and allow others to see that. I wouldn't be that hung up on weight and body image, that's what "they" want. hehehe (the conspirators against women's advancing) whoever "they" are, the patriarchal order perhaps.

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