Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Today...


Today was a long work day. Not as long as some - Not as short as others. 6:00 am to 3:30 p.m. The phone rang a couple of times and I was too busy to answer.

One of the calls was my Mom -- Once work was over, I rang her back. The bad news of the day is that Gary, the biological father, is sick. He has had Hep for ages. His liver is failing. He is not a candidate for transplant or live donor (or what ever is called). My brother, Josh, called and told my Mom that he has been really sick for the past couple of days.

She said she would give me his number so I could call and talk to him. I declined. I told her there is nothing that I really have to say to him. And after I said it -- I knew it was true. She said when he does die I will have unfinished business and feel bad about it. I told her no, I didn't really think so. I made my peace with not having a relationship with him a long time ago. The deal was really sealed when I took Lilly home last October. He had the opportunity to see us and chose to take his new girlfriend camping instead. Of course, as usual, he did not call to let me know that until the last minute. The last minute being after I had waited all day for him to call or show up. I had left him several voice mails and all of that. He never called.

I realized then that I was done. I was done waiting for him. I was done with him. I was never going to put my daughter through what I have spent a lifetime doing. Waiting for him to love me. I do not want Lilly to ever have to wonder about him, wonder if he will show up or wonder why he does not care. Or be upset because he put someone else above her.

Every thing I do, I do for her. And if that means being done with him. So be it.

I do care about him. Just as I care for someone that I knew once but never see. But not the love that a daughter has for a father. Hell, I would have offered to give him part of my liver - or however that works. I would offer that to any family member that needed it. Not necessarily out of love, but because I would help just about anyone.


What does this have to do with being a fat chick you ask?

Damn near everything.

The things that happen in our childhood shape the adults we become. And he had his fair share of shaping me -- That is for sure. But that is done now - I take full responsibility for who I am now. Good, bad or indifferent.

I wish him peace. I wish him better health and happiness.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Today's non scale victory!

I am driving the car this afternoon and I look down and think -- "WOW! My thighs are getting smaller!" Then I realize - "Holy Shit!! I CAN SEE MY THIGHS!!!". There was no big belly hanging over them. I am getting my lap back. I haven't seen my upper thighs in ages.

Now I am looking forward to the day that I can see my own lady business without the help of mirrors and gymnastics.

Keb
289/239/to be able to put a soda between my thighs while driving and still see the soda (might make sense to no one but me)

http://thetruthaboutfatchicks.blogspot.com/

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Self confidence vs. Self Esteem


Self Confidence -

self-con⋅fi⋅dence

noun
1.
realistic confidence in one's own judgment, ability, power, etc.
2. excessive or inflated confidence in one's own judgment, ability, etc.


Self Esteem is a realistic respect for or favorable impression of oneself; self-respect.

Self Confidence is a realistic confidence in one's own judgment, ability, power, etc.

How do the two differ to you? In this instance -- To me self esteem is thinking you can (or deserve) to wear something sexy. Self confidence is the actual ability to do it.

I was thinking a lot about this last night. I am gaining my self esteem again. I am TRYING so hard to get my self confidence back. I need to be able to do things for ME and no one else. I was getting dressed last night and went to put on some sexy undies (I had some that I used to fit into a while ago, didn't for awhile and do again) but I didn't put them on. It was in my head that no one would want to see me in them -- So why bother?

Later in the evening I thought -- Why bother? Because I wanted to see me in them. I wanted to wear them. Was that selfish of me? Maybe. But on some things - I need to be selfish. I need to see myself as sexual/sexy. I need to remember what silk feels like against my skin. I need to feel pretty. To be pretty. And to have someone else think I am those things. And to have someone else want to see me in something like that.

So the question is - How do I get my self confidence back? Just steal it away from what ever imaginary beast I think stole it from me? Just START doing things for myself?

It sounds so much easier than it is to actually do.

Some body give me back my damned self confidence -- and just a little extra self esteem too.

Signed,
A work in progress - still going commando

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Self love

No, not that kind!! Get our minds out of the gutter.

I was surfing around this morning and heard this -- or something like it and it struck a chord with me.

It's all about loving yourself no matter what size you are. And allowing others to love you too.

Just think how different our lives would be if we just loved ourselves a little bit more. I always think that I want to be pretty. I want to be sexy. I wish I could wear this or that. But I won't because I do not think I am deserving enough. I do not think it will look good. I do not think that anyone would take a fat woman wearing something dainty seriously. I am constantly afraid of what someone else would think of me.

All because I do not love myself enough.

So, from today on out - I am going to try to love myself more. I am going to allow others to love me too.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Fat Chicks and Belly Dancing

OMG! Why didn't anyone tell me it was this much fun and this exhausting!?!?

My BFFs Ann and Steph and I went tonight -- Our first class. We are all big girls. There were 6 of us in the class. A woman that was a little older than me (maybe), a tall skinny chick that was there for the first time too and a girl who has been doing it since February. And then there is our teacher. Late 20's. Long dark hair. Pretty as all get out. And a drop dead body. And and AMAZING dancer!

I felt like a lumbering elephant. Not so much because of my size - but because I am SO uncoordinated. I felt like I was trying to dance on my hands. It is something I can see getting the hang of in the next decade or so. But it felt really good to be wiggling, shimmying and moving around. Of course, I was sweating like a pig. It is the kind of thing you really need to be wearing a small amount of clothing for -- But I won't do that to the other kind people that are in the class. But next week I will be wearing a shirt with shorter sleeves and maybe some shorts or something. I had on a 3/4 length shirt and shorter yoga pants tonight. Still hotter than hell.

The moves are sexy. Empowering. I am looking forward to being able to get a few of the moves right. Being able to shake my hips without my legs moving too. I LOVE the isolation part of belly dancing. I kept my hands at my sides most of the night. I think I will work on one body part at a time!;)

And -- Keeping in the continuity of my last post -- it is an EXTREME boost to the self esteem. Even tho I probably (did) look like a jackass. It just felt really good.

Soooo...Tuesday night belly dancing class -- Here we come!

Monday, September 21, 2009

BLOG DISCLAIMER

  • DO NOT FEEL SORRY FOR ME.
  • DO NOT PITY ME.
  • THAT IS NOT WHAT THIS BLOG IS ABOUT OR FOR.

Self Esteem

Self Esteem

Self Esteem

Def:

self-es⋅teem

–noun
1. a realistic respect for or favorable impression of oneself; self-respect.
2. an inordinately or exaggeratedly favorable impression of oneself.


Where do we get it? How do we lose it? How do we get it back?

Self esteem for many of us (me) comes and goes through out a lifetime. How far back can you remember? Me? Back to when I was three. Many memories. Hardly any of them good. Wait, that is not true. Some of them were good. So many of them intense...strong. I remember the smell of pot. I remember seeing Three Dog Night (I think) in concert. A yellow can with wall to wall dark brown carpet. It smelled like the monkey cage at the Audubon Zoo. Can you tell I grew up with hippie parents? Parents that were way too young. A 17 year old mother that had no clue how to be a mother. Her mother was a horrible mother. Mean, abusive, a pill head -- The love of my life.

Grandmothers are different creatures than mothers. Wonderful, beautiful, different creatures that want to rectify all of the mistakes they made with their own children.

As I write this I worry about who will read it. Sorry, Mama. Sorry to anyone who sees themselves in it.

As a small child I remember abuse. Mental and physical. All at the hand of the person that I loves the most. Skip to 4 or 5 yeas old. Gary left. I remember the night. I remember laying in bed in the back bedroom at Grandmaw and Papa's and Mama telling me that he was gone an never coming back. I remember crying myself to sleep. He came back occasionally. An Easter Bunny the next year. It was pink. Gary had to find himself. Over 35 years later and he is still looking. Many relationships, 1 wife and 3 sons. He still seems to be looking. Or maybe he has found himself. I wouldn't know. We do not speak. He once told one of his girlfriends that he only had 2 sons. He had never been married before. I guess he forgot about my brother and me. How's that for a fucking blow to your self esteem? Your own father won't acknowledge you. Can you say a lifetime of Father/Daddy issues. And that was just the start.

Skip to age 7 -- My mother's new boyfriend appears. A child molesting, kiddy fucking, 400 pound fat fucker. Who the fuck finds a 7 year old fuckable? That fucking pig. Can you tell by the overuse of the word fuck that I am still bitter? Years of therapy, fucking anyone and everyone that would give me the time of day, two marriages and many bridges crossed and burned bring me here. Fucked and Fucked again.

Harsh words -- "Too fat for anyone to take you to the prom.", "Too ugly for anyone to love.", too stupid...to do whatever....Too fat to fuck, too fat to properly open a car door and get in and out without fucking it up. Too stupid to become anything of worth. No one will ever want you. Really!?!?!? You say these things to someone? You make someone feel this way!? Maybe you didn't know what your actions were doing. Maybe you were just trying to get your point across. Maybe you were just trying to make it "memorable". Not to worry - It was memorable alright. It is something that will stick with me for the rest of my life. It will stick with me every time I ever open a car door for the rest of my life.

That is how we lose self esteem. That is how we become who we are. That is how Fat Chicks get their self deprecating humor. That is how fat chicks learn to be fat chicks. Take their self esteem away and who gives a fuck how fat you are. The one thing that most fat chicks have going for them is "a pretty face". "you have such a pretty face....if only you would lose some weight." Oh yeah? What about the rest of me? The personality, the ability to tell jokes? The great tits? The fantastic legs? And all of the other things that make me who I am I am more than just a pretty face. Look a little deeper.

I saw a girl the other day at the grocery store -- A fat chick. She worked there. On first glance...greasy hair, clothes that were too tight, head hung down, not making eye contact. Look at her, fat and ugly. She doesn't take care of herself. I bet she is lazy too. My heart hurt for her. She stuck in my mind. Does any one love her? Has anyone told her that she is pretty? Just a little love and respect. A boost to the self esteem will make you take a shower, shave your legs, wash your hair -- Take a little care of your appearance. Her life would change with just a tiny bit of self esteem.

How do you get your own self esteem back? How did I get mine back? I spent years flip-flopping back and forth. I still fight it every day. I fight wanting to stay in bed, eating everything I see, not looking in the mirror and not answering the phone. I fight sitting with a bottle of pills next to me and occasionally thinking about...it.

BUT -- I have an 18 month old daughter. That is why I can't do those things. I have this tiny little person that depends on me for everything. That I can't kiss enough, that I cant love enough, that I cant respect enough. That I can't mother enough. That I can't be a good enough person for. That I can't be a good enough mother to. She loves me unconditionally. And there will never be a thing that will make me love her any less. Just the opposite really - Everything she does makes me love her more.

I had lap-band surgery for her on July 14th. I did it for her. So she wouldn't have to have a fat Mama. So she will never have to hear me say that I cant do something because I am too fat, too out of breath, because I can't do it. I want to be able to do everything with with her, for her.

I have friends who love me not matter how fat or thin I am. I have a husband who loves me no matter what a bitch I am. I have a lover who loves me. I have a family who loves me.

I wish you love.
I wish you enough love in your heart to love no matter what someone looks like.
I wish you enough love in your life to find your self esteem.
I wish you love and joy.
I wish you peace.
I wish you self esteem.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

August 19, 2009

All of the things you make me feel like I am not...

pretty
happy
young
desirable
sexual
equal
wanted
loved
sexy
huggable
needed
pretty

You make me feel that I am serviceable, like old shoes -- It breaks my heart and makes me feel like less of a person.

I want to feel those things. I need to feel those things. And I do not.

February 2, 2002

Today you are Baba Yaga.
Revel.

Don't brush your hair, don't shave your chin, don't attempt to hide the hag that lives in the house on chicken legs in your brain.

Be ugly. Revel. Show your sharp, yellowed teeth, strike fear into the hearts of pale knights and paler maidens.

Cackle. Cackle like the sound of ice splitting up the length of the lake, to open to black deathly waters underneath.

If today you're the crone on the hill, be the crone on the hill.

She is wise. She is old, she is ugly and unafraid of warts or death or being alone. She is your secret: the bent, awful lady who knows how to poison apples.

Be violent. She is the aging maenad, hair ratted into dreadlocks that smell of old sex and fennel.

She has given her cunt up to the world and it ate the world whole and has all the magic in it.


Be her. Be Baba Yaga, today.

March 14, 1999

Rejection

No -- you are too tall,
Thank you -- too fat
NEXT -- too ugly

Too LOUD
Too Funny
Too serious

Always too something --

Never good enough.
I'd love to be good enough at some point.

I don't have to be special all of the time --
Just some of the time.

To be taken seriously.

Not always have to quip the next dumb joke.

Look at me --

tell me I am beautiful --
Even if you have to lie.

look at me --

tell me I am interesting
Even if you have to lie.

Tell me you love me
Even if you have to lie.

I will be fine --

Just dont ever tell me that you lied.

I dont always need the truth.

I just need to be made to feel
special
loved
wanted
needed
useful
helpful
pretty
womanly
beautiful
feminine


dont reject me -- I cant take it right now.

Febuary 20, 1998

I always spend my birthday alone during the day. I spend it reflecting on what the past year held and what the next year holds.

One of the things that I thought about today was the power that I give other people over me. I let other people dictate how I feel about myself. I let someone else's opinion of me give me my self worth. I know this isn't right. I realize that I should not do it. But, unfortunately, I do.

For most of my life -- I have heard -- "you have a very pretty face." As if that is all I am. Big eyes and full lips. Someone said something to me today --

you know, if you slimmed down & toned up a bit, you'd be quite the beauty ... you've got the face ... & the tits ... & the basic shape, I'd say, too ... *s*

I know this was meant as a compliment. But it cut me all the way to the core. It made my heart hurt. What do you say to something like that? It was not meant to hurt. But it did. My response was --

Yes, this is true -- and then maybe people will stop telling me that I have a pretty face and focus on some of my other qualities. I am actually quite bright and have tons of fascinating interests. And I am probably sincerely more sexual than most skinny chicks.
I have been thin you know. At my thinnest I was 185 -- rock hard body...only 7% body fat.

People still said I was too fat.

But, yeah -- I am working on it.

I allowed this to hurt me. I shouldn't have. But, I did.
I know part of it is how men look at women. The difference between the way men think about things and the way that women think about things. Men are visual, women are aural.

Too bad -- I do have alot going for me.

It is kinda funny. A man has the opportunity to be with me. Limitless possibilities. You want to try something kinky out -- and I'm your girl. You want to get your kink on -- I'll rock your world.


It is a headgame played out in my mind -- No matter how many times someone tells me that I am beautiful or sexual -- It just takes one person to put doubt in my mind. To make me feel like less of a person.

But, this too shall pass.

Onto other thoughts -- This will be a good year. A better year. I have found a ray of sunshine in my heart again. that helps alot. I have good friends rt and vt. I have family that loves me. March is baby time again. Another trip to another invitro Doctor. We shall see.

Starting this year -- I plan on not letting other people get to me so much. I will work at being happy and more accepting of myself. And stop being so hard on myself...

Welcome!

Welcome to The Truth About Fat Chicks. Ok - So maybe it is just this particular fat chick I am telling the truth about. But I do know a good bit about fat chicks having been one for the better part of the past 40 years.

Here are some truths about me.

I am a 39 year old mother, wife, lover, artist, free spirit, infertile woman, daily meditator (not a word, I know), practitioner of creative visualization, physical and sexual abuse survivor, daughter, sister, funny girl, recently lap-banded girl and still....a fat chick.

I will always be a fat chick at heart, no matter what I weigh. It is just part of who I am. It is what built this fabulous of self deprecating humor that I have. You know - Make fun of myself before anyone else can beat me to the punch.

I love to read - and write - hence the blog. Though one of my biggest problems is that I write like I talk. EeeekkK!

I am originally from the south - Bogalusa, Louisiana. That right there is enough to make anyone insane, funny and a generally well rounded individual. I have lived in New Jersey, Connecticut, Manhattan and Upstate NY, where I currently reside. After 22 years of living away from home, I still have a thick southern accent. I just can't shake it!

I am lucky enough to have an amazing 18 month old daughter, Lilly. I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love her. I thought to myself tonight as I was wiping her nose - I am so lucky to be picking this angels nose for her. Strange I know - But it is true.

This blog will be a lot of things. A place I can post my private thoughts. A place where I can tell you about my life. A place I can tell you what it is like to be a fat chick. A place where I can post different things about other fat chicks. A place where I can talk openly and honestly about anything and everything. If you are shy, do not like vulgar language, do not like the beautiful (and occasional ugly) truth about life - this might not be the place for you. I have a habit of being cynical, vulgar, funny, bitchy, brutally honest and raunchy.

I hope you enjoy reading this blog as much as I enjoy writing it.