Fat Bottomed Girls, You Make the Internets Go Ewww


heartmybody.jpg


In conjunction with

PhotoHunt


Presents Narrow, in hopes that Mr Lady has NO blog traffic today.

Kelly set a challenge yesterday, a challenge to women to photograph the part of their body that they struggle with and then say why they love it so much. I wrote this post a minimum of 3,248 times. I deleted it each time.

See, I could tell you the parts of my body that I love in, oh, two words. The parts of my body I struggle with would take up most of the space on the internet in order to write out. I have a very bad body image. I KNOW that it's in my head, but there's what is and there's what is, you know?

Anyway, today's Photohunt is Narrow. Narrow is something I ain't neveh gonna be.


Ewww


Please note the jeans marks and the belly button that makes and *AWESOME* arrow shape pointing the entirely wrong way. Thank you, thank you very much.

It killed me to put that picture up. See? I'm totally dead over here.

The Donor hasn't even see me undressed in the light of day in, like, 9 years.

I was going to blather on about how I have this distorted body image, and that, for me, 20 pounds overweight is the same as 150 pounds overweight, how when I look in a mirror, it's like looking in a fun-house mirror, how I know this is an issue that came from somewhere and that I am helpless against it, but I'm skipping all of that.

That, up there, is the remnants of 3 pregnancies in which I gained 105, then 80, then 60 pounds consecutively. That is what remains of many many years of starvation, of the gym twice a day, of running and swimming, of cutting and slicing and obsessing.

That is what I was left with after making my minions, and they are perfect and more beautiful than I could ever hope to be. They will never know what it is like to feel Not Good Enough, because I will never let them.

I will silently loathe that shit until the day that I die, but the choice between that and them? No choice at all. The one thing I had to sacrifice for my kids was my waistline. My 20's? Pshaw. My freedom and the wiles of youth? Overrated. I gave up that up there for this right here, and I think I won in the end.

Now, let's never speak of this again, ok? ;)