A Re-Introduction of Sorts

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. And I've been trying to write this post for almost a week now, but it doesn't really ever come out right. And honestly, this is really important to me, so it's important that it comes out right, even though I'm not sure that there is a right way to say things sometimes, and you just have to roll with the way that they come out.

It seems kind of... odd for me to be writing this blog about 'learning to accept myself' when I'm not even really sure who I am. Recently I started noticing that I was turning into someone that I didn't really like, someone who did something that I completely abhor. I was - well, I can't really say was, because I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm still doing it - becoming one of those people who acts differently around different people. For a while I tried telling myself that it was only because I am more relaxed around different people, so the level of comfort that I have around them is different. But I don't think that's the whole story.

I was talking with one of my friends the other night - C., and he brought up the fact that when I started my other blog (the one about trying to be a 'lady') that he gave me some shit about it, because he thought that I was doing it for the wrong reasons. And while I tried to dispute that, I realized that he was probably right, and it had something to do with the same thing that I'm going through now... the fact that I really don't know what I like or who I am, so I was trying to fit myself into this idea that I had, of this ready made personality. It didn't work out though, and so here I am.

The more that C. and I talked, the better I felt about a lot of things. He moved away this week, and I'm glad. Not because I don't want him around - in fact, if I could have him and his girlfriend live with me all of the time that would probably work out really well for me. He is one of the few people that has stuck by my side through some really rough shit, stuff that has made other people leave. And for that, I'm grateful.

But with C., his girlfriend J., and my other friend B. all moving away in the coming weeks, I think that it's time to make some changes. I need to stop taking care of everyone else and start taking care of myself. Over the past few years I have stopped really taking into account what I like, and what I want out of my life, and instead have substituted picking parts of my friends personalities that I also like, and trying to pass them off as my own. Except... I'm discarding things that I like that they don't, which isn't fair.

So this is my re-introduction, and my new challenge of not only accepting myself, but also of finding out who I really am. I'll try to keep posting here if anyone gives a shit, and probably even if you don't.

<3

It's funny how there is so much that I want to blog about, but I don't end up doing it because I don't want people to read what I write and end up thinking that I am a douchebag. Because that, to me, is what people are going to think when they read about me going "I look good today", or "I wore a short skirt!"

One of my friends recently found this blog, and I know that two more people are following it, but... I'm not really sure how I feel about this. When I started the blog, I wanted people to read it. But it's not a fashion blog. It's not even really a style blog, just a collection of rants and ravings about how I can make myself feel better about the shitty way that I look most of the time.

And that's pretty much what I think - I look shitty most of the time. I look pulled together, but always... boring. I would love to be one of those people who can put on makeup every day, make fabulous outfits, have the courage to wear things that push the envelope of what is acceptable, but I can't.

I want to clean out my wardrobe, fix the things that I like, get rid of things that I don't like or don't fit. I'm not sure if I could ever do this, but I'd like to. I'm hoping that when I do I can try to sell some of my things at the local consignment store, so I can get some credit for them and then get more clothes that fit my style.

Of course, that means that I will have to figure out what my style is.

Oh Jesus, this is getting way to complicated.

On a slightly better note, I have been trying to eat a lot better this week. More fibery things (greek yoghurt is love!), more fruits (if bananas count), less... junk. For a couple of days I was eating nothing but crackers, but that was not a good thing at all. So I stopped that. No yummy crackers for the past couple of days.

Meh. So that's pretty much it, at the moment. But I have to give myself credit, I have cut down on a lot of crap, especially considering how stressed I am. Baby steps.

(A lot of this was just pure ranting, especially about how I look. But considering that this blog is called "Learning To Accept Myself", I need to... accept myself. The good and the bad. True, no?)

Hey look, I care!

First off, fishnets and heels make me feel sexy. And feeling sexy makes me feel confident. That is all.

I used to not care about my appearance. I would leave the house wearing whatever I felt like, not caring if it matched, went together, or even looked good. Mostly jeans and black... black T-shirts, grey shirts, never really any color. And when I wore color, I never really felt all that comfortable in it. I never really wore anything that could be considered daring, because I was getting the impression from everyone that I should be ashamed of my body, because it wasn't perfect. So if there was something that I could wear to hide myself, then I should.

But I'm not... cringeworthy. I have a belly, and large thighs, yes. But I also have a waist. Do you know how long it was before I realized that? I think I may have actually jumped for joy, because here was a sign, a sign that I did have a shape. And it wasn't round. The more I studied myself in the mirror, and the way that clothes fit me, I realized that I do have a pretty decent shape. Curvy, but I'd much rather be curvy than stick thin.

Now, I actually enjoy getting dressed. I take the time once a week to put together outfits for the week, and while I try to stick to those outfits pretty exactly there are some times when the outfit just isn't working out the way that I thought it should. But that's OK, because that's some of the fun of it - letting outfits develop the way that you feel they should. Or trying some new trend because you have the clothes for it, and who gives a damn if you don't have the right body type?

I read an article today on someone else's blog called "Come back, Pretty" or something like that. I agree with the basic premise - when you leave the house, you should make sure that you look alright. It wasn't that long ago that women were wearing full skirts, crinolines, dresses, heels, gloves and hats every time they left the house, because it was what was expected of them. I don't know when society stopped expecting that of women, but I don't think it was a good idea. I like the more lax rules of dressing that we have now, but I like the idea of putting your 'best face forward' when you go out into the world. (This doesn't mean that I am above schlepping around the house in sweatpants and all my lovely grossness. It just means that I try not to bring that OUTSIDE.)

But yes. For the past two months I have been planning my outfits. For the past week and a half I have been wearing makeup every time I leave the house. Even if I don't plan my outfit, I am sticking to my personal style rule of never wearing sweats outside of the house. There are some limits, after all.

It's not a diet, it's a "lifestyle choice"...

I've always thought that line was complete and utter bullshit, personally. But at the same time I would be knocking it down, I would see other people who have made similar "lifestyle choices" losing tons of weight. While I stayed fat.

Obviously something wasn't right here. Either I was wrong about diets being bad/I had the wrong mindset, or eating all that junk food was making me fatter, which made other people just seem skinnier in comparison. But I still couldn't get into the mindset that I wasn't doing something bad, wasn't constricting myself in some way. I got used to people making comments about how I looked, or how I could be better, because in some way it seemed as though it was better to live with the comments then it would be to actually fix the problem.

In the past couple of days, something changed. In an email that I sent to one of my friends, I said that I was "sick of being fat". But that's not really the whole story. I'm sick of being... in a place, mentally and emotionally, where I am just content. I don't have any challenges, I don't have any real fun, I just exist from day to day. And I think that for too long, I have accepted that that was the way things were supposed to be, instead of reaching out and changing them.

But now I'm done with that. I'm working on eating better (right now I'm working on not eating all of my junk food at once, so if I eat something junky I have to balance it out with something healthy. Today my choices are a)small bag of chips with water b)can of Mtn. Dew with carrots, c) perogies with either some Dew or water, and d) chocolate with water. I hope that'll be enough to keep me full for a while, as I really don't want to have to go back to the store.) I'm putting myself out in the world more - joined the Socrates Cafe at the library, and I'm planning on working a lot less this summer and maybe going on some trips with my friends. And speaking of work, I'm not working as much as I used too, though my stress level hasn't gone down that much. But I guess babysteps are the way to go.

Scratch that. I KNOW babysteps are the way to go, and they're the only way that I am going to get any real results out of these changes. So yes. Babystepping.

"Well, now that you've seen the plan, I'm going to go... and show the plan to somebody else"

Sorry that I haven't been posting as much (does anybody even read this thing), but I just wanted to cement my plans for later, because I have this feeling that if I write it down somewhere then I will be more apt to actually do it.


I know that this will probably gross most people out, but a while ago I stopped shaving my legs. It was partly because it was going to be winter, so I wouldn't be showing anyone my legs anyway, and partly because... I just didn't want to. So I stopped shaving my legs, and then everything else just fell by the wayside. I think that this has a lot to do with my depression, and the fact that for the past couple of... forever, actually, I haven't really been at my best. So it didn't seem to matter if I was disgusting and hairy, because nobody would see it - even if they wanted to.

But for some reason today is different. I'm not sure if it is because of the fact that I have kind of been talking to a (kinda) new boy, the fact that I am telling myself to get over the old one, or just because I want to take care of myself, and honestly - I don't care. I just know that I woke up this morning and suddenly this wasn't... an OK way to be.

So on top of doing laundry and a fly lady mission - everything centered in my bedroom, which is at the moment one of the messiest rooms in the house, another way that you can tell I have let myself go - tonight, I am going to have a little pamper mission.

I am going to take a nice hot shower, really wash my hair, shave everything and just make myself feel good. Then I am going to lotion up, brush out my hair, and go to sleep.

The really sad thing is, none of this is really groundbreaking stuff. It's all pretty basic, but it's stuff that gets neglected when I'm depressed - not saying that I won't shower, but I won't shave, or I won't brush my hair out after a shower, which leads to tangles, etc. I guess those commercials that say how much depression hurts really know what they're talking about, huh?

A Good Day

Yes, I know that I am VERY creative in my blog titles, aren't I?

So due to a rather drastic scheduling change, I have gone from working three nights a week to four days and a night. And I am very much NOT a morning person. At all. In no way shape or form. So this has kind of been a bit of a problem for me.

Although I kind of like my routine now. My mother isn't much of a morning person either, which meant that when I was in school, mornings were hectic and not much fun. But now that we are both on almost the same schedule, she is actually making me breakfast and we are getting along a lot better than we had been. I like it.

Moving on. I decided that I would wear an awesome outfit today to combat the fact that it is Monday. And I did. Grey tank top with a white button down layered over it, black and white print skirt, tights, Sanitas clogs. Jewelery is my normal rings and watches, a string of pears, and a red jeweled bracelet that someone picked up for me at recycling. Hair is up in a hat, as per usual. Makeup: white shadow, powder, RED lipstick.

But I think the most important thing is that I am wearing my septum ring out! I got this piercing over two years ago, and it is only now that I am... comfortable sharing it with other people. I had my reasons for keeping it hidden, and I still love the fact that I can do that, but... I've reached a point where I don't feel like I have to. It's like the rest of my body modifications - when I got them, I planned them so that I would be able to hide them easily. But I don't have to. I actually took the time to explain my tattoos to my grandmother yesterday, and she seemed to understand them. (Of course, I also have done this before, but still. Progress.)

So maybe this isn't a good day because of my outfit. Maybe it's a good day because of my confidence!

Lazy day!

Monday is supposed to be my day to go home, bum around, do some cleaning, and relax. This was, of course, interrupted by work, and so by the time I got home I only had about 2.5 hours before I had to be back at work for a meeting. So I, of course, wasted much of that time watching Say Yes to the Dress.

Anyway, pulled on a pair of wide legged jeans, a blue 3/4 length sleeved T-shirt with an empire waist, a scarf, a hat, and sneakers. I pretty much feel like I'm wearing pajamas, but I look kind of professional. I hope.

Blah. Another post brought to you solely by boredom!

Sometimes I like to play dress up...

And sometimes I don't.

Since I recently switched to working nights, I really have no reason to get up in the morning. I'm working on some routines so that I can get things done, but right now that's another story for another day. But I have become sloppy in my daily habits, staying in my PJ's until I absolutely have to get dressed and go outside.

On Monday of this past week I had to go to my college and register for my classes for the Spring semester. (I know this may seem like a useless detail, but I don't care!) I was having kind of a blah day, one of those days where I really didn't feel like doing anything, but I had to. So, I decided to dress nicely. This is something that may not work for everyone, but I always find that I am more productive when I actually take the time to put thought into my outfit.

I am a firm believer that you never have a second chance to make a good first impression, and I have found myself kicking myself in the ass far too many times to not dress nicely when there is someone that I want to impress, even if I have met them before. This is the case with my college advisor, I have seen her before, but I like to make a good impression anyway. (Of course that is not the only reason that I dressed nicely - I did it for myself, as stated above.)

I wore a nice pair of grey dress pants, a grey tank top, a sheer white button up over it, and my Sanita clogs. (I bet this would be much more interesting if I had a picture to show you, but I don't. Sorry!) Instead of a necklace I wore my black and white striped/grey Converse scarf kind of like a tie. My hair was up in a figure eight bun, and I had actually taken the time to put on a little bit of makeup.

Not only was I complimented twice on the outfit, I found that I was more confident in how I looked, which showed in my actions and in my words. This might not make much sense, but it seemed to be true. For the rest of the week I put some thought into my outfit, but not as much. And with the exception of Friday, I really feel as though I got nothing done. Maybe playing dress up helps me to focus... something to think about for the coming week.

I'll have to post back to compare...

Just a big ol' pile of sexy.

Have you ever had one of those days where you just felt like absolute shit and nothing was going right? Well, that's the kind of day that I've had. I had to work last night, so I felt kind of off when I got home because of that, my sister was being a brat, my mom wanted to do something nice, and it was all just. too. much. Things started to get slightly better once we figured out what we were going to do, and I went and took a shower in preparation to make myself look slightly more human.

For some reason my chest cold is coming back, which means that not only do I fell pretty run down, I also sometimes break into hacking spasms which make me sound like I have smoked a pack a day for at least five years. It's disgusting, and I really wish that there was something that I could do about it, but for right now, there's not. So, I simply deal with it. (I'm not being unsafe about a medical thing or anything, I'm just pretty sure that it's the same thing that I dealt with back in November and I already have the doctor's bill and medications from that visit. Not fun.)

But we had made plans to go out, so go out we must. And there were problems galore there. It was one of those days where most of my clothes didn't want to fit right, which meant that I went through three pairs of pants before I finally found a pair that didn't make me want to scream when I put them on. I threw on a couple of shirts, my trusty clogs, and was finally ready to go.

The surprising thing was that the entire outfit ended up not looking half bad. One of the things that I did was work with my style restrictions for the day, and ended up wearing soft comfy clothes that felt like pajamas. Top that off with one of my many large, hair hiding hats, and I was ready to conquer the world.

That is, until I came home and about fell over. Now I have to go and see if I can get my TV working again...

New Year, New Challenges...

First of all, I would like to welcome everyone to my blog (even though I'm pretty sure Brandy is the only one who will be reading this.) I had a very short lived blog last year called "Journey To Becoming A Lady", and I was giving some thought to starting that blog back up again, but I realized that I had changed over the past year, and that title/blog wasn't really direction that I wanted to go in anymore. For the longest time I have tried to shove myself into boxes or labels, trying to look like everyone else's version of 'pretty', or 'hot', or God forbid 'hawt', instead of looking the way that I wanted to look. I've gotten slightly better about it over the past couple of months, but I'm still not fully comfortable with myself yet.

I'm going to put the truth out there - I'm fat. I like to say that I have curves, which is true, and I am learning to embrace them. But I also have a tummy that doesn't really quit, and thighs that look like hams. I read an blog entry today about 'coming out' as plus-sized. And even though considering my height I technically kind of skirt the borderline between 'normal' sizes and 'plus' sizes, I do know what it feels like. And this is all part of accepting myself for who I am.

So I shall introduce myself, your hostess. I am a 20 year old female, 5'11", curvy as hell, with hair down to my ass and big blue eyes and lips. I am not your typical model, but that is one thing that I am okay with. I have piercings, tattoos, and a mouth like a sailor. These are facts about me, and things that I refuse to be sorry for. But right now, they're all just words on a screen. I need to help myself figure out what they really mean.