What I find the most fascinating about having girl friends, like really real live girl friends, not the fake kind who only say nice things, is that your really real life awesome amazing girlfriend can give you some advice that could possibly have the ability to offend you (or inspire you to stab a bitch,) but if it comes from her, you know you have to listen, and listen good. And it isn’t easy. You can stare at her and think to yourself, “I really can’t believe she just said that.” But then your self says back to you, “Yes you can because she is trying to help you love yourself and be a better person. She’s not being a bitch.” Although she is a bitch for other reasons, like having a perfect body even though she doesn’t work out and loves McDonald’s vanilla cones.
But I digress. I had some lovely lady time (in a mostly non-sexual way) with some very good girlfriends this week. I felt like it was a little bit of relaxing, a little bit of drunken haze, and just the perfect amount of soul searching and giving each other advice.
So here it is. I feel like I have pretty great self-esteem. I know I talk shit about myself on this here blog, but about 95.24% of that is because I make myself laugh when I say it and so it adds to my self-esteem that I find myself so amusing. But in real life, like all humans with a vagina, I do have some insecurities. And even though they exist, I recognize them and tell myself, “Yes, but I am working on it.”
Which on the surface sounds great right? I recognize this thing about myself isn’t perfect, but I’m working on it. So I say that. A lot. Like a lot. For example, since I brought Tiny Dancer home from the hospital, I have lost 40 pounds dudes. 40 fucking pounds. That is basically a small human, and only half of that was actual baby weight. The other half was just extra flab I’ve had floating around for awhile. So I mean, really, that’s pretty awesome. But to my friends, I say, “Yeah I’m really really stoked” (which honestly I really am) “but clearly I still have a lot of work to do” (while pointing at my midsection which I’m still not thrilled with.) To which my McDonald’s loving friend says, “You need to work on that. You should just be happy how you are.” (As in work on your attitude, not your midsection.) The instant she said it, I knew it was true. (Also she might not have said it just like that because I may have been drinking, but it was something to that effect.)
I’ve been saying this about my body for awhile now. It’s not perfect, but I’m working on it. My body will be great when my stomach is flat. I’ll be happy with my body when I’m such and such weight et al. Which don’t get me wrong, I still have a goal in mind that I’m working toward, but I also have developed a new goal. And it isn’t loving my body when my stomach is flat. It’s loving my body now. Just the way it is. And never ever trying to convince people that I know it isn’t perfect, but I’m trying to get it that way. Because that’s just asinine.
So wow, this post just took a serious twist into seriousness. Now back to the drunken debauchery. It involved a drinking version of Sorry!, a mouse in my lunchbox, nighttime kayaking, Loons, and loving myself just a little bit more (in a mostly non-sexual way.)