To be brutally honest, my desire for babe-ness is, along with health considerations, a nod to the indisputable fact that my perpetual and almost pathological singleness has become...well...perpetual and pathological.
I've taken responsibility for my body and I'm doing what it takes, in a rational and informed way, to get back to the babe I was. However, I neither have this goal emblazoned on a t-shirt nor tatooed on my forehead, so what men see is just me. Or they don't see me at all.
And it ain't right. T'ain't fair, neither.
I'm not going to bore you with the litany of lovliness that is me. Mostly 'cuz there isn't one. And it's not to a point of desperation (boys can smell desperation. That and grilled meat from 15K away. Don't ask me how...). It's really because I'm having a good time on this planet and gosh darnnit, it would just be the bee's knees to share it with a co-conspirator, as many of you have, no doubt, discovered. I'm not asking for the Holy Grail or the last Zhu Zhu on the shelf. Can it really be this hard?
I work in an industry that is estrogen-heavy. Not that I don't love my sistah's, and there are a few fellas in the office, but we're talking a ratio of 1-10-ish (me and math again...oi veh). I work looooong hours and going to a bar to
Fat girls are kryptonite.
And here's a kicker - I'm too fat to be attractive, but not fat ENOUGH to be a fetish. Wow. I'll now buy that condo between a rock and a hard place. What's odd too is that (and I'm not the first person to point this out) on TV, you see fat guys and babes all the time! Grrrrrrr...You never the reverse. Double standard grrrrrrrr......Fine, fine, whatevs...Sheesh.
*sigh* I look at me sometimes and think, really? Am I that repugnant? Then I think, c'mon, I don't look that bad...do I? What's so frigging wrong with me?? I'll walk away from the mirror and come back to it, give it and me a good hard stare and think, no. I don't look that bad. It can be made better. That's all. My hips will still be the same, my butt equally so, just on a smaller scale. No, I am not repulsive. There is nothing wrong with me. Deep breath...
I'm not going to go on the "oh, but I have a great personality" rant here for the simple reason that I'm talking about what people see. It's about the perceptions honed and marketed in the pages of those magazines. Oh, and in those articles (I'm talking Pulitzer prize winners like Maxim here), the general perception is that fat girls have *gasp* issues. They have no confidence, they're lazy, they have baggage, etc. And so, the Hot 100 feature gorgeous gals that are, natually, skinny. But some are scary. No really, Dr. Mengele scary. But they are perceived as disciplined and working hard to maintain their sexiness. The budgetary discipline derived from not buying, hence eating, any food and the work it takes to bend over a toilet every few hours. But thank God they're not fat! Whew! Nope, no issues there. A baggage free zone. Yikes...
I'm not saying all guys read this crap and buy it outright. Hell no! But when you have "Sexy" "Hot" "You Want This" flashed like so many Christmas lights next to those images, what's a person to do? And women's magazines show the same images with the same flashing lights. And we buy. And we're fucked.
So here I am. I'm working my way to babeness (and skwidgy, cuddly babeness, not the clackety-clack of bone hitting bone), but no one seeing me on the street knows that. So I have to suck it up for the nonce and wait for that first completely spontaneous smile aimed in my direction. Or hit the dating sites.
(tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock)
AAAAAARRRRRGGGG, I can't wait for the smile!!! Dating sites it is!
And oh my goodness, and what have I found there...?
LiliLaLarge
Met my husband on a dating site...
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