Today is the day this blog becomes something different. More than just the 30 or so reblogged Harry Potter and Hunger Games novelties.
My Tumblr is a sad excuse for a Tumblr. David Karp gave us Tumblr as a means of free expression, within reason. Most of us (yes, probably you) have squandered this privilege on millions of billions of GIFs and JPGs of people we love, shows we love, music we love, porn we love, and have very rarely used Tumblr to its full potential. They say that if you want to make a change, start with yourself.
Now, I’m not going on a Sorkin-esque tirade about being “On a mission to civilize” the other, but rather the self.
This afternoon, I weighed myself. 132 lbs. Not too bad if you’re 5’6” and solid. However, I am 5’1” and generally petite. Known for my … ahem … donk, my size has never really been what I want it to be. Sure, I am able to just brush off the “dat ass” comments, but let’s be honest, when your friends (and mine most certainly are) are able to identify you from behind because of your lower section, it’s startling.
After having a meltdown on Mother’s Day, and having my parents give their respective pep talks, I realized just what the staggeringly emotional thing is. No, it’s not that I worked really hard to work off the Freshman Fifteen (which I did) only to regain the Sophomore Seven (which I also did), it’s not even that I dread (which I do) putting on any sort of bottoms for fear of “how tight they will feel this time.” No, it’s not that.
The reason I feel so completely depressed and shaken and stirred and beaten and tired and horrified and embarrassed and helpless and totally unable to cope is because I have realized just what my self-esteem, or general lack thereof, has done to my relationships — familial, platonic and romantic.
Until I can see myself in a mirror or reflect on my actions, words or anything else and think “Gee, I’m really very, very pleased with myself,” I will never be able to allow anyone close enough to truly form something meaningful. I’ve let people slip through my fingers time and time again, thinking “I’m just too busy for this right now,” when that’s all just a coverup for what’s really going on in my head. That I’m scared they’ll find out I’m weird and nervous and broken and ugly and hopeless and hopeful.
Maybe that’s what this blog is — a place to “figure it all out.” Maybe it’s just a place to come into “me.” I have no clue now, but all it takes is a little faith and a big leap.
I LOVE YOU