Tag Archive: Health & Beauty


I wanted to expand a little on my Facebook status update from last night (3/31) for a few reasons, not the least of which being that it was late and I was typing it on my phone.

—-Original Post—-

“Confidence is sexy.”
How often, as women, do we hear that?
How many times today did I read that as a response to a friend’s status? Four. Four different friends had that response.
Do you know why I hate that phrase?
Because it’s a bullshit line.
Confidence *should* be sexy. But when a woman asks for what she wants or, Heaven forbid, demand it, she’s told that she is needy, demanding, and pushy (and a slew of other things).
We are, essentially, trained to shrink within ourselves. To be self-conscious and to think so little of ourselves so that we will not be seen as over-bearing.
Yes. We need to be confident and strong.
But YOU need to treat us like our wants are valid. Like we aren’t asking too much. Like it is acceptable and normal to have high hopes and goals.
I am confident.
But many times I feel I have to hide it because I just don’t have the patience to fight with people anymore.
You know what, though?
I am really, really tired of holding back.
So, fuck it.
I’m gonna be a goddamned star.

————–

Some of you may be wondering why I would be offended at someone telling me, even in a positive way, that my confidence is sexy.
Or maybe you’re not; it doesn’t particularly matter to me, but this post will probably bore and/or confuse you.

First of all, my attractiveness is not anyone’s business but my own. How I look, how I feel, cannot, should not, and will not be validated by how others see me.
I don’t need to *be* a certain thing to please others.

Secondly, by implying that only when I am “confident” (does it always have a particular look?) can I be attractive, you are invalidating all other emotions I may experience.
It’s like when someone (male or female, mind you) tells you that “you should smile more often; you’re so much prettier when you smile.”
It’s condescending.

Side note:
I had Glamour Shots photos taken several years ago. One photo hung on a wall, framed, in the art gallery where I worked. I cannot tell you how often I heard this (and variations of it):
“Oh my God, is that you?! You look really different. You look so pretty!”
They were trying to be nice… I suppose, but it hurt. They were essentially saying that I was not beautiful naturally. That the air brushed, coated-in-make-up me was stunning.

I trust very few people out there when it comes to my appearance – sexy or not.
And even then, I really only trust myself.

I don’t dress a certain way to please others. It’s pretty obvious that I live at the ass-end of the fashion world.
I wear blue jeans and hoodies, I wear my dance gear, I wear old sweatshirts that have been shredded by time.
I wear what makes me comfortable.
I have tattoos that mean things to me. I don’t give a damn if anyone else “gets” them. They’re for me and me alone.
I color my hair. Often.
I like how I look with different colors.
I wear next-to-no makeup on a daily basis. I don’t need to put color in my cheeks to please the masses.
I am more than okay with how pale I am.
That said, I enjoy wearing makeup. I like showing off different features in different ways, and playing with colors to see how they look on my face.
I do not do that for anyone but myself.

It may be a bit hypocritical to say that I do appreciate it when people tell me things like, “You look really good today.” or “That’s a great color on you.”
It is a bit of an ego boost, and I’m okay with that.
But…. I do not feel horrible or sad or like less of a woman if I don’t hear those things. Hell, I don’t even think about it.

If I want an opinion about how I look, I’ll ask.

I’m really fortunate to have people in my life that are supportive of me and my choices.
Rarely have my friends or family told me that I’d “look better if…”

————-

Confidence is:
The state of feeling certain about the truth of something.
I am confident that my looks have nothing to do with my feeling of confidence.

A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s own abilities or qualities.
I am confident that, regardless of how other people see me, I am beautiful, talented, intelligent, compassionate, and driven.

If someone chooses to see me differently, that’s their problem, not mine.

Rainbow Dash

Preach it, sister.

 

Over on Blogger.com, The Militant Baker posted this blog. In case you can’t get the link to work, here it is:

Things that I wish I knew earlier  Things that I’ve learned in real life.
Things people really need to talk about more:
———————————————————

Everyone has rolls when they bend over. Everyone. Lets just get this out of the way right off the bat. In the last few months, I’ve had over 30 women ranging from rail thin to extra large naked in my bed and I would routinely ask them to hug their knees. You wont believe this… ALL OF THEM HAD TUMMY ROLLS. Not one was exempt. Even my super fabulous professional model 6 foot tall and some amazing Katie had rolls. The stomach pictures turned into some of my favorite images from the project… so quit thinking they’re bad, and try accepting (dare I say embracing?) yours!

When people say “you’re gorgeous”, believe them. I tend not to, and it’s a cryin’ shame. When people genuinely compliment you, it’s because they really see it. Try to not dismiss their perspective as wrong and assume that you know better. They see all of you. We see our flaws. Believe them.

“Arm flab is embarrassing.” No its not, go fuck yourself. No, not you. The people who tell us that, silly.

You’re not stunning despite your body. You’re stunning because of your body. There is a distinct difference. I grew up in a culture that would deem “unattractive” women as “special spirits”. A degrading categorization that implied that the only thing worthwhile was whatever was inside. Well, yeah. We are all much much more than our bodies, but our bodies are a beautiful part of us too. Beauty comes from the inside AND the outside.  I am of the firm belief that every person is beautiful, and so this leaves the inside to be the part that is the most telling when it comes to true “beauty”.

A guy can pick you up off your feet, and it won’t break his back.  “Wait, whaaaaaa Jes? You’re full of shit.” Nope. This just happened to me for the first time in… six years? I’m considerably heavier than I was 6 years ago (like… 70 pounds heavier) and so when I ran up to my friend Eric for a hug and he picked me up with my heels in the air… it left me breathless. I had forgotten that it was possible; I had accepted a life void of being lifted. So exhilarating. Eric didn’t suffer any injuries and walked away unscathed.

You need to exercise every day in order to feel better about yourself. Many believe that someone who’s fat needs to exercise as much as possible in order to prove that they’re committed to becoming “less fat”. As if accepting one’s body as is would be a sin, and that’s just silly. Yes, exercising has wonderful physical and mental benefits, but you don’t owe it to anyone else to make an effort to change your body unless you wanna. You do not have to alter yourself to be okay. Period.

You’re allowed to fall in love with yourself. I promise. This will be the scariest thing you will ever do, and that’s okay. It will also be the most amazing (albeit super gradual) experience you will ever have. It doesn’t make you narcissistic. It doesn’t make you vain. It is liberating in every form of the word.

It’s also okay to have days were you don’t love yourself. Read this. No really. Read it. And then realize that we’ve grown up learning and internalizing that we are not okay our entire life. For me, that’s 26 years of self-hate indoctrination and brainwashing.  It’s going to take a lot longer than you think to reverse this thinking, and it’s definitely not going to happen overnight. Allow yourself to have “weak” days. Cry, mourn, sob, yell, throw things. Whichever. Then get up, brush yourself off, give the media the finger, and move forward because you’re a warrior.

Everyone’s boobs are uneven. If you have a lot of boobs, they might be way uneven.  Don’t stress. This is totally normal.

There are people who prefer large ladies. And I mean all sizes of large. I thought that my best bet in life was to find a partner who accepted my fat. Pause. Give me a minute to hang my head and shake it at myself. Not only are there people who adore “thick” women, but a LOT of them who prefer it. This eventually ends up in an interesting territory which Marianne talks about here, but the point that I’m trying to make goes back to the “despite vs because of” argument. Here is what you need to know: you do NOT need to settle for a lover who is “okay” with your body. You have the right (and millions of opportunities) to find someone who is infatuated with your body. You deserve to be worshiped, woman!

Fat chicks bang hot guys… ALL. THE. TIME. I know that hot is relative and all inclusive depending on who you chat with, but for these purposes, lets talk about the “universally attractive” kind of hot. Y’know, the kind fat chicks don’t deserve? We want to pretend that we don’t know what I’m talking about, but lets be real; we totally do. The fact that “fat chicks bang ‘hot’ guys” was one of the most powerful realizations I’ve had thus far. In line with the above paragraph, I knew that there would be someone that would find me attractive but the pool would be small (because of my body) and potentially full of guys I didn’t personally find sexy. So I would have to settle for anyone that would take me. After all, how could a conventionally gorgeous man (tall and with tattoos of course) like fat chicks?  Weh-he-hell, let me tell you somethin’: through various sites, events, parties, and corner store meetings, I found myself with over a hundred men who were champing at the bit to get with this. I was the one who had to sift through and pick the hottest of the hot. Ladies, over a hundred. “Girls” showed what society thinks about that when Hannah’s character has a weekend romance with an attractive and wealthy doctor. People flipped their shit. “Patrick Wilson is so hot he would never do Lena Dunham” was the most eye catching. Wilson’s wife responded to that rubbish here, but the tweet speaks volumes about what the majority of people think unconventional women deserve. Jesus christ, it’s annoying. I won’t spill the details of my bedroom coming and goings, but lets just say this: the hottest guys in Tucson and I get along just fine. I would recommend reading Emily’s article on xoJane for a better explanation of what I’m struggling to say. Know this: the myth that “atypical” bodies can’t be paired with “typically attractive” bodies is false. Women need to know that all bodies can be paired with all bodies.

Riding during sex will NOT collapse his insides. Just trust me on this one, what you fear is totally false. Here’s a great article that changed my life.

Wearing whatever you want is a political statement. Join the revolution. Throw style rules out the window. Wear the tutu. Wear the horizontal stripes. Wear the turquoise skinny jeans. Wear the see-through blouse. Wear the bikini. Wear the sweat pants. Wear the shirt that says “Does this shirt make me look fat?”. Wear whatever it is that makes you happy. This is your life.

You are fucking beautiful. I’m saying this with a straight face and seriously meaningful look where I maintain eye contact for an uncomfortable amount of time. I know you don’t feel like you fit into the category of gorgeous that our world creates. I know that its hard. I know that its a daily battle. But fuck their fascist beauty standards. The second you stop looking for a skinny model in your mirror and start looking at YOU… is the second you will start to appreciate what you are. Stop looking for flaws. Stop looking for differences. You are perfect. You are more than enough. You are the best thing that has ever happened to you. And you are fucking beautiful.

Say it with me.

Love Yourself

 

She’s beautiful; absolutely beautiful.

Recently, a Dove campaign video has been going around. The up-front message is one of hope.
But, as this Tumblr points out, there’s still an underlying message that beauty is all that matters.

This is probably one of the most well-written articles I have read regarding the Dove campaign.

d1 pic 1 photo See? Classy!Gathering of the Gypsies 1.19.2013 makeup

These are all me.
Some are old, some new, some are “altered”, some are naturally me.
All of them are beautiful.
But I am more than that.

I am a dancer, an activist, a hard-worker.
I laugh and cry and sing and get angry.
I play video games and read books. I cuddle with my kittens.
I love my husband.

It shouldn’t be about my face and body.
I am more than the physical.

Thanks, lady.

 

 

 

 

 

With how sick (and I’m talking violently sick) I got on Friday afternoon, and how much I feel like death right now. I am seriously concerned about endometriosis.
Those pain killers I popped can kick in any time now.

I only recently started having debilitating pain during girl-flu, but this is damn near unbearable, and the absolute worst it’s ever been.

As an aside – hubby bought me ice cream. He has know idea how to “handle” me right now, but he certainly knows how to try. 🙂

gurl

A little change.

Every six months or so I make some kind of change.
it’s usually cosmetic – new clothes, new hair (cut, style, color, etc), new routine.

So, this time, I got new glasses. I was due anyway; it’s been about two years since I’ve seen an eye doctor.
With my new frames, I decided to change up my hair, too.

Naturally, I am a blonde.
I’m not platinum anymore, but pretty darn light.

I happened to have a box of henna dye sitting in my bathroom.

So now, I’m rockin’ burgundy.

W00t!

New specs, new color. Word.

 

And, yes, my Whovian friends, that is a Dalek on the corkboard behind me.

Through the Fog

I woke up rather early this morning – or late last night, depending on your view – with a horrible migraine.

I have no recollection of dreams, but an overall feeling of panic and dread. And the sensation that someone was hammering toothpicks into various parts of my head. I am sensitive to light and sounds are amplified to an impossible decibel.

I’m currently a little doped up. My head is fuzzy and I only have partial vision, which is making the creation of this blog post difficult. I have never been so happy to see that squiggly red line. I’m sure this would be a whole new level of typing without it.

While I am slightly more lucid, I hopped on to my work email to clear out the crap and respond to emergencies.
Of which there are several.
What. The. Fuck?

I was just in of Friday and I only had 1. And that wasn’t really an emergency.

This is what happens when I try to take a sick day.

Now that that’s over….

I am soooooooooooooooo hungry.
All day, I’v been craving food. Not anything in particular, just food.. Whatever I had in front of me.
English muffins, cookies, applesauce, enchilada casserole.

I feel like I ate every 40 minutes, but I can’t get full.

I know that, in some of those cases, I wasn’t full because of the type of food. But it has been ALL food. Nothing seems to satisfy.

I just don’t want to be hungry.

I need to find a good, healthy snack that will fill me up.
Any thoughts?
Send me your recommendations and recipes!

No motivation today…

I have things to do, but I don’t really want to do them.
I don’t want to get out of my pajamas.
I don’t want to clean litterboxes.
I don’t want to do laundry or dishes.

I have my coin bra to finish – the fabric trim is on both cups, the Kuchi pendant is attached.
I started getting the chain, but found a little snag… the chain links aren’t solid, so the thread slips through. I think if I just spin the link around, it should work. Should.
Then I have to replace the straps. I think I’ll do D-rings again, the support is usually pretty fantastic.

But, I don’t really have the desire to do anything.
I don’t even have the energy to eat anything.

It’s not that I feel depressed, I just feel… ugh.
I think it’s the girl-flu.
I don’t usually get this degree of moody. But the last few months have been “off”.
It’s like, once I turned 30, shit started breaking.

‘aowrisgnv;pzvjfng:EROFBv hjn:OISDcvnm

^That is what my brain is doing now.
Blah.

Ok…. I HAVE to muster up some motivation now.
I’m gonna do it.
I’ll get right on it.
As soon as I’m done looking at LOLcats

.

 

One of my freinds posted this to their Facebook wall. It’s an interesting read, to say the least.