Since I can remember my body has gotten me a lot of attention. Mostly negative based on the way I feel after receiving people's opinions or advances.
5 years ago I was going to the gym at least 5-6 times a week. I was working out, squatting, drinking my post work out smoothies and had the best looking ass of my life. Near that same time I was entering the first stages of my life as a sexually active woman and men started to notice. I guess you could say that those early stages were when I "peaked". I was getting a lot of attention that I wasn't used to like men wanting to take me on dates, sleep with me and call me pretty. Men that had the chance to see me naked went nuts about my body yet I was still unsatisfied with the way that I looked. For a solid year I was working out and living the single life. My figure looked fit and I was quite busy with men. From the outside, it may have looked like my self esteem was at its apex. But the truth is, my self esteem had never been any lower.
I’m going to be straight for a second: I get a really heavy flow. Ever since the miracle of womanhood first hit—imagine me, a pimpled, chubby twelve year old, cursing the universe for endowing her gift during gymnastics class—I’ve dealt with the difficulties of a heavy period.
You used to be a good friend to me. My movie pal, my gym partner. When I got with someone that I had been close with for a bit, you weren’t happy. You’d start leaving the room if I got calls, you’d start being snappy with me and just downright mean. You never used to be like that with me ever. You were always careful with me because I’m often sick and frail. I never even neglected our friendship despite the relationship. It got bad, you got worse. You started shouting at me all the time, cornering me. I was scared, so scared of you. I never felt safe anymore and I didn’t know how to tell anyone. I ended up crying a lot. You got so mad the last night you stayed and you shoved me into the counter and raised your hand to me. I was terrified and crying. It was 2 AM and I begged you to calm down or the neighbors would complain. I was shaken. I finally managed to go to bed. You had a date the next day and I was happy for that. I always told you put yourself out there. I woke up to you touching me, and I tried to push you off and told you no please stop. You didn’t. You kept going and telling me how pretty my body was and it would be such a waste not to. I cried. I didn’t have the strength to shove you off and you kept me pinned. When you were done you fixed yourself up and left for your date. I had tears coming down my cheeks and laid there in silence. I curled up with a stuffed animal feeling so broken. I didn’t talk to anyone much at all. My partner didn’t even find out until later in the evening because of one of my roommates who I had cried to silently about it before passing back out. My partner was angry very angry. Authorities were called and you fled the state.
What is the one most common phrase you may have heard, being a woman? It definitely is always, always related to the body. A woman, no matter where she stands in her life, will always be given that extra nod if she looks good. Being anything far from the societal standards of beauty can make your life a living hell, in the form of comments and well-meaning statements that are only to tell you you are ugly! In a world obsessed with flawless skin and slender bodies, there are a few who are making the world a better place by lending their voice to the body positive movement.
As we sat at the table, my friends picked my body apart. They told me I used to be more “bootylicious," that I was skinny that time I returned from that trip, and that my mother compared me to a pin.
I’ve struggled with my body image for years. Even when I was tiny I thought I was fat, but this is not a story about body image in the usual sense. It took a lot of years of breaking emotionally and mentally for me to finally figure out that my self image isn’t mine. I was molested when I was 3 years old, and from that point on, I never felt comfortable with my body. I remember I would never undress in front of anyone, and when my mom had to bathe me I felt filthy, unpleasant and unusual. I was a child with body image issues. I grew up this way and no one understood; instead, family members made fun of me for it... I finally told my mom about what had happened and I think I was 5 years old by then. She tried to hide her pain but I could see it in her eyes as she told her sister. There was a family meeting and true to patriarchy and the burden of family, she was told not to lay charges against my cousin who had done this to me. I was taken to a doctor to get checked up and I suppose I was alright physically, but mentally and emotionally, I’ve carried the shame and disgust of my own self from the moment it happened...
Welcome to hell week, I mean, welcome to your least favorite week of the month.
To the guy that sexually assaulted me,
“When I lose the weight, then I’ll take a cute Instagram picture.” “When I lose the wait, I’ll get this dress.” “When I lose the weight, then I’ll make a blog page and take pictures to promote it.” “When I lose the weight, then I’ll go talk to that cute guy I see all the time” “When I lose the weight…”
I was born in January 1989. At birth, I had two older sisters, and over the next seven years, I would gain a brother and two younger sisters. During my first five years, I lived in the suburbs of a large city. My mom homeschooled my siblings and me, and my family was very conservative and identified as fundamentalist Christians. At age 5, we moved to my paternal Grandparents' farm, where my cousins lived as well.
Published 3 months ago
No! Why does stripping always come to mind when pole dance is mentioned?