So, occassionally, I need my friends to act as if I’m so fucking amazing that they’d rip my clothes off right then and there if it wouldn’t get in the way of our friendship. That’s not the stupid thing I want to admit to you, it’s just a stupid thing I need to admit to you so that you can understand the incredibly stupid part.
So, I’m sitting around talking to a friend and the conversation should go a little something like this–“Harmless flirtation,” “Harmless flirtation in return,” conversation procedes to the important stuff and I feel reassured that my life is how it is because I like it this way and not because I’m some terrible, enormous freak no one could possibly love.
But instead, the conversation goes “Harmless flirtation,” “Oh, come the fuck on, like you’d really want that.” And I was pissed. And even later in the evening, I’m kind of taken aback at how mad I still am.
Okay, so here’s where we get into the stupid part. I’m mad because earlier a couple of friends had remarked to me that they thought I looked like the chick in this Onion video. And I do, in so much that we are both fat chicks with brown hair.
Ugh, you know, I can’t get through it this way.
Let’s try another way. I think that woman looks fine. If I weren’t scrutinizing her looking to see what it was about her that made folks think of me, I would have no negative feelings about her whatsoever. But, once someone says, “she reminds me of you,” it’s like I project all the things I hate and feel insecure about myself about onto her and then assume those are the things people see as being similar. It not only makes me feel bad about me, it changes my opinion of her for the worse.
Which is stupid. And I hate that I can see myself doing it. I can tell you about doing it. But I’m still doing it.
The Rotund had a post the other day about talking trash about yourself–and, at heart, I think that’s what I’m doing, using some poor innocent stranger as the medium through which I feel bad about myself. And in that post she uses the phrase “self-harming practice.”
And boy did that about knock me over.
If other people did to me what I do to myself, it would easily be seen as emotional abuse.
Tiny Cat Pants 
Yeah.
Wasn’t there a whole week earlier this month set aside for the cleansing of self-hate rituals?
At a recent Halloween party, I ended up with about one hundred photos on my camera, some I took and some I didn’t. I thought they were hilarious, beautiful, blurry (in some cases), and great fun to look through. I posted them, but I got a lot of grumping back from photographed friends who (though in costume, and already pretending to be someone else) felt that the images didn’t look like them. Or their best sides.
I feel that way sometimes, but I’m trying to shout over that little voice. And I want everyone to enjoy the pictures, dammit.
P.S. for the record, I watched the video (loved it) and saw a fat chick with brown hair, striking eyes, and a commanding presence despite her comedic character. That’s a woman I would call “handsome,” in that old-fashioned solidly-attractive sense.
I do, too. I think she’s very striking. Which was clue number one that there was something fucked up going on.
And I mean, I think I’m fine looking, too.
And, you know, it’s not about that. If only it were just about “objective” standards. I don’t need folks to tell me I’m fine. That’s not the problem, you know?
I want to get at and get rid of the shit before that, the stuff that goes on in my head. I want to short-circuit that nonsense.
But, yeah, it is a ritual. That’s the thing that got me about what The Rotund said–it is a little self-harming ritual. I feel vulnerable and exposed, so I will do something to focus my attention. And it has a script and a build-up and a predictable end result, or end results.
I’m tired of and I find trite and depressing the “I hate myself, please tell me I’m worth loving” “Oh, you’re wonderful, it’s okay” end result.
I want to figure how to recognize that I’m even starting on that script and stop it.
“If other people did to me what I do to myself, it would easily be seen as emotional abuse.”
You already said it and recognize it. No one is ever harder on me than myself. I don’t know why, it just is.
We’re all hardest on ourselves. Knowing it and recognizing you don’t have to be is something more than most can do.
My sister is one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen up close. Most people would agree with her being so beautiful and yet all she sees when she views herself in pictures or the mirror even is flaws.
We often need the distance and perspective to see ourselves better.
at a party the other night this very cute and extremely willowy 20-something walked into the room, and my friend i have a crush on who was standing next to me said “oh look! it’s a littler version of you!” this girl was not a child or “littler” in a vertical sense. she was just thinner and impish looking.
how’s that for a fukcing compliment?
i want to just get over it, but i did the same thing: i dissected her to see what he meant, and suddenly in that moment i saw myself as 10 years older and 20 lbs heavier than what men find attractive, and that’s a tough pill to swallow.