Word For Wednesday (W4W) #65

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Play along here!

This week’s word is:

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I embrace imperfection in all things… except me.

I do not so much have a fear of never being good enough. It would be far more accurate to say I have a deep seated belief that I am never good enough.

I remember being a little girl and my mother was testing me on my times tables I had to learn for homework. I got them all right and she was very pleased with me. I, however, was very unhappy. I said I was bad because I had cheated. She enquired how I had cheated. I replied, “But, I just remembered the answers!”, and burst out crying. I simply, even at that young age of about 5, could not accept that I had done well. I could not feel good about my achievement.

I went into town yesterday to buy some groceries and supplies. I made the mistake of trying on some new bras. (Any woman will tell you this is usually not the most pleasant of experiences.) Yesterday, I looked in the mirror and hated what I saw. Really, really hated it.

As I walked home I struggled to contain the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks.

I know… Hey Kat! It’s not rocket science – eat less, move more, lose weight, right?

Been there, done that.

I got down to a size where I wore age 11 clothes and I saw a fat, ugly person.

Following medical advice, I allowed myself to put on enough weight to fit into a tiny size 6 and I saw a fat, ugly person.

I never, ever thought I had achieved the look or the body I wanted. I never felt happy with it. It was never good enough.

So, I could starve myself again and get tiny again, but here is the rub… I will still hate who I see in the mirror.

I sit here and type this post and my fear is not of imperfection, but that I will never feel at peace with “me”. That I will never be happy. Despite having so much in my life that I am truly grateful for – a loving relationship, friendships, family, enough money/food/things, my dogs, my health – I remain a shallow, vain and vacuous shell.

And worse… I am so bored with myself and this constant discontent. I am certain I have bored you, my readers, with my incessant whinging.

And one thing I never wanted to be is boring.

Dammit!

đź’‹

note:

I do not equate fat with ugly, nor do I equate thin with beauty. It is much more complex than that.

In an uncharacteristic display of self kindness, I will say that I think I did myself a disservice when I called myself a vacuous, vain shell – there are reasons for my body issues and they are real.

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

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22 thoughts on “Word For Wednesday (W4W) #65

  1. My dear Kat, I have said it so many times but you are a beautiful person. I just wish that someday you could learn to see yourself the same we that those of us who love you see you.

    KW

  2. I got my first bra when I was in fifth grade (age ten and a half years old). I was that girl who filled out a C cup when all my classmates were still flatchested, and because my mother is a narcissistic borderline personality, the fact that I needed a bra at such a young age was something for her to say “How could you DO THIS TO ME” about…I don’t know that I did ANYTHING to have such tits at that age, let alone that I did it on purpose or did it TO FUCK UP HER LIFE, but shopping for that first bra was not a pleasant event in life. The only time bra shopping WAS pleasant was about two years ago, when I slimmed down from 325 lbs to 243 lbs and I needed all new bras because I lost so much weight. I was thrilled to tell the older woman who measured me for new bras at Macy’s that I needed new bras I needed them because I lost so much weight. “And how did you lose the weight?” she asked. “I GOT SOBER” I was so happy to say that, it wasn’t easy to do. It hasn’t been easy keeping the weight off, either (or staying sober), and so as much as my mother STILL loves to make me feel like I’m not good enough, was never good enough, will never BE good enough, I kind of think she can suck it.

  3. Lovely Kat. I know nothing I can say will make you feel briliant about yourself – if only life were that easy. But just know that none of us find you boring – that you’re sweet and charming and gorgeous. And yes, buying bras is a hideous experience, but try to remember what you see in the mirror is not what others see. You’re lovely. Try to remind yourself of that, always.
    Much love XXXX

  4. I hate those moments of feeling as you said. They do sneak up on you/me/us. You said you have reasons for feeling as you do and I can’t argue that since I don’t know you but I believe you. I have solid, logistical reasons to be truthful about ugly things I see in and of myself – mental and physical. I’m standing there with you is all I mean…which leads me to think – Change what I can. I know this as you said you do. When it persists and bothers me, I sometimes work to find better (positive) definitions to use to frame what I see. What we say about ourselves holds so much power. Again, something you know. I hope you have less of those days. And, Pretty bras are pretty bras. Theres no way you didn’t look pretty – fact.

  5. It appears to me you’ve come a long way to the point where you have the measure of your problem but not yet, the measure of its defeat. Still, halfway there is better than starting out. Your comments on other sites show someone who is in touch with her abilities and critical faculties. Keep doing that and view each completed task as an achievement.

    • Oh I can analyse anything Dermott! Over analyse if anything…
      Thanks though for your encouraging words.
      (ps hubs has started following your blog on my recommendation! He loved the funeral piece too.)

  6. Hubs? Ben Huberman? Thank you for your interest. He did sent me a reply to a question I posted on Community Pool about how articles get chosen for Discover. He sent me a link to About Discover which has a form one can use to nominate an article read or one of your own. I wondered about entering The Funeral. It occurs to, since the Panama Papers were released that the phrase, There’s nothing certain, except death and taxes, may no longer apply and only death has that sole distinction. But seriously, Kitty, over analysis is a waste of time, I think. best to put your head down and get on with it.

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