My Burning Man Aftermath (Otherwise Known as Part Two)

So coming back from Burning Man I was feeling more relaxed, but I was also feeling really unhappy about my appearance.

Like I said, seeing photos of myself didn't help, but I didn't delete them either.  The (carefully chosen) photos I sent people, I got feedback back from them that I looked great! so I figured maybe some day I'd be able to see what they saw, so no deleting, I told myself.

After a week or two of being back home I realized that my body wasn't fat.  I was average back home.  Maybe a little thinner than average.  Certainly in the places we ate in the States I felt thin again.  But at Burning Man?  My body is far above the average weight, or state of fitness or thinness or something.

I started to feel like back home I wasn't unattractive.  I was ok.  Maybe sometimes better than ok.  Some days I could see myself in the mirror and think, hey I look good!

But not naked.  Not in a bikini.

I look fine with clothes on.  Clothes can cover the pooch.  The back fat.  The lumpy thighs.  And so I'm disguised when I'm at home.  Most of the time.

I look better when I've just washed my hair.  Worse when it's been a day or two.  But my hair... it's... blah.

I've been growing it.  Do I keep growing it?  Will that make my chin look thinner?

I don't do anything with my hair.  I'm a lazy hair person, always have been, that won't change.  So it gets pushed behind my ears, off of my face.  Doesn't do much for me, really.

Blah.

My clothes are... fine.

But I'm too concerned with being comfortable to wear that belt that would show off my waist, or to wear those shoes that would lengthen my legs (and make my toe hurt like a bad word.)

But maybe there were some clothes that weren't helping.  I stood in front of a mirror a few weekends ago and tried everything on.

Gave away the things that didn't fit anymore, or didn't make me look any better than frumpy.

I know in theory, whenever I put something on it should flatter me, but that's not my reality.  I've got some things that when I wear them, people like the garment, but there are only a few things that I wear where I feel like I'm attractive in them.  And they're not really wearable in my spy cave.

Makeup, fine.  I do my makeup, it looks good, it's not particularly fancy.

Blah, blah blah.  I look ok.  On a good day, when all the elements align, I feel like I look good.

But it's a fleeting feeling.

I had a striking thought the other day... It's not my fault that I'm not young.

Because it's not.  I can't help not being twenty anymore.  It's not my fault.

And yet I'm still sad that I'll never get to go to Burning Man as a twenty year old.  (Good lord I'm glad for that though, I probably would have drunken myself sick.  I just mean body-wise.)  And the sad part about it is that I didn't even like my body when I *was* twenty.

A woman at work the other day, as we were sharing about our body woes (she used to be 200 pounds, I'm so proud of her, even though I just met her last month!) told me a saying she'd heard.  "I wish I was as fat now as the first time I thought I was fat."

Well damn.  When I was sixteen, my family and I travelled to Hawaii for a holiday.  It was awesome, but I remember trying to hide my body.  Clearly, I was fat.  Or so I thought.  People were looking at me because I was fat.  My breasts were large, so they were probably looking at that, but my body?  When I see pictures now?  Was amazing.  How happy would I be now, to have that body?  And yet I hated it then.

How happy would I be at ninety, to have the body I have now?  And will I have hated it?

Sure, there's something to be said for loving yourself, for being kind to yourself.  For appreciating the beauty of your body as it is right now!

But that's not the same as looking at where I've taken by body to and knowing I could make it a little thinner... a little more toned.  I could see more definition.  I want to be able to look at myself in a bikini, or even naked, and say, yeah, I work hard to look this way and I feel good about how I look.

I'm never going to be taller than I am.

I'm never going to be a petite figure with little, perky breasts (unless I invest in surgery and alter what I was given, but I don't want to do that unless it's medically necessary, and I hope my health never makes it medically necessary.)

I'm never going to be stick thin.

But I've watched ladies at work give birth, and work hard and look great a year or three later.

I've seen me, before my car accident, with defined arms and a thin stomach.

I know that my metabolism has changed.  I know I'm working against age, and genetics and let's be honest, the fact that I often care more about the physical comforts of treats than I do about a future possible change in my figure.

Yes, I would like to lose some weight.  Not a ridiculous amount.  Just enough.

I would like to be more in control of my sugar intake.  I'm not sure it's realistic to say none, but less.  More controlled.  Less manic.

I would like to be strong again.  And fitter again.

I would like to not see and feel flabby, soft parts of me rolling over clothes and underclothes.

I would like to go to next Burning Man and be comfortable in what I'm wearing, or not wearing.  To feel attractive.  And to feel attractive in myself, for real, there and beyond.

I hate how I feel right now, and Burning Man was the spotlight on that.  I am unattractive and I can't keep feeling this way.

Burning Man made me feel really unattractive and I'm doing something about that.

Maybe what I'm doing won't make me feel any more attractive, but I can't see that it will make me feel any worse.

I don't see how I could feel any worse.