My favorite Love Stories Part two
Not all love stories involve two people. Probably the most important love story is the one of you loving your body and your mind. So, I am going to share something that may make you question why you like me at all. That is me being forward to thinking my friends and loved ones read my blog. I imagine to the average stranger that falls on to my blog that you may find this interesting.
Let me take you way back to junior high. For reference to my mental state, I played Barbie’s up until I was like 17. Up till I was 15 full story mode. However, 12 was around the time I found my mom’s Romance novels. You know the ones with no real story except expected sex scenes. Now you also have to know that since I was 5 basically, I had the sense that I had to look over my Nana and make sure she was ok. From age 10, I was helping with meds, cleaning, and cooking to help take care of Nana. So, my Barbie’s were my way out of reality.
Around the age of 11 boys come into play. A majority of my classmates were already paired off with guys that they liked. I on the other hand was the girl that the boys liked to play grab ass with and embarrass. I was constantly harassed by three different boys. Of course, due to my lack of knowledge of boys and girls, I felt a lot of shame due to this. I often thought “What was wrong with me that these boys keep touching me unwantedly? On one occasion the grandfather of one of the boys happened to see me crying and asked me what was wrong and on impulse, I told him. His grandpa was a good man who had always protected me and watched over me. I suspect his grandson didn’t sit comfortably the rest of that week. As his brother told me their grandpa had whipped the boy till he was swearing off girls. With one of the other boys, telling on him only made him worse I can still see his freckled face smiling at me knowing how dirty he made me feel. The third one was easily handled by my teacher who actually saw him mistouching another girl and he was suspended and just never come back.
I want this to be a positive story so don’t focus on that story too hard, because honestly, it was just the blink of a line of misfortunate events that set me into a place of feeling shame for my body. Those boys would not be the last. They were not even the first. Then body image comes in. It seemed like before the age of 11 you could be chubby and everyone would tell you how cute you were. The moment you turn 11 suddenly you are fat. Suddenly your mom is telling me, YOU DON’T WANT TO BE FAT AND ALONE LIKE ME, DO YOU? Well, I did not want to be alone. That seems to be the worst fate ever. Then the things that were being told to me as I aged were, “You are so beautiful if only you would lose weight all the boys would want you”. Complex much. So, I grew up knowing I had this great power and if I ever choose to lose weight and release it, the world would be mine.
One very hot day right before the summer camp meeting started a lady, I loved dearly come up to me and was hugging me. She said do you know how beautiful you are. You could be a BBW model. What… what was she saying, I could be a model not if I lost weight but already being fat??? She handed me a magazine with a BBW model on the front and for the first time in my life, I had hope.
Remember that great power I had, well I did not want this power, I just wanted to be loved, get married, and have babies. I often was told if I ever wanted to get married I’d have to lose a lot of weight. To top things off I had a secret, I thought I knew I’d never be beautiful or “perfect”. I had a skin disease that in my mind made me so undesirable on top of being fat. Fat in a way protected me from not having to show off my body. Then right there on those magazine pages, it told me I was already desirable. Boy did that worry me. I was desirable (I could not believe it but I tried ) even though The skin problem hung over my head.
Around the age of 25, I met a boy. I hate to even mention it because I hate to give someone else credit for something so personal. UP to the age of 26, I was a virgin. It would be those few moments a day or three before I lost my Virginity that changed everything. This guy had already assured me my body was exactly what he liked, having talked extensively online but some part of me could never quite believe it, but when he kissed me- it changed everything. Then the night we were together alone for the first time, the way his hands softly slid over my body. How he hugged my fat, how he kissed every inch of me; not ever once did he mention my skin disease nor treated it like he was grossed out. How he looked at me still can give me chills if I think too hard about it. It was a constant arousal sending my body on a fiery flight. While I recognized I was pretty I had never had a relationship with my body before this moment.
I left that period of my life a confident woman. I loved my hands on my body, I wondered if this was like being like other women, the ability to walk around wondering who was attracted to me. It seemed where ever I went or turned the more confidence I was the less harassment I received about my size. Now that I think about it this may be why my ex fell in love with me. In all aspects, I looked and acted like a confident woman. Maybe I was. I often felt like it was all an act. I was getting older after all and I had not met anyone that I could start a life. No one ever chose me. So of course, I let my deep secret fester, that while I was confident in my looks, the fact I was alone tore at me.
My ex found me and fell in love with me. I was in awe of my ex. He said all the right things and treated me all the right way. He would say “He had skills”. By the time we married, my ex had me believing I had a body that would forever have a hold on him. This is where I want you to pay attention. Why I want all the beauties out there to truly understand, not only did my ex know all the right things to say, he also knew all the wrong things. Don’t trust anyone with something so important. My body image spun out of control. He knew he somewhat had control over me and he never seemed to think twice about using my body image as a weapon against me. He made me question everything I did and or thought. I become a mess about even picking out clothes. I had no opinions of my own. While I was spiraling out of control. I remembered how I felt standing in my wedding dress at the shop. I remembered how I felt standing in front of a mirror, here I was in this beautiful dress and I looked beautiful. That was a defining moment for me. This led me to realize that I did not want to cover up my arms only seconds before going down the aisle. I remembered feeling like a princess most of the day. By the end of the day, I was walking on cloud 9. So many compliments, and so much fun. Then again, my then-husband begins sending me down a spiral of bad body image. While he made it very known my body was “his type” he also made me feel like nothing I did or said was good or beautiful enough.
It was those thoughts that tormented me the rest of my marriage, beginning a new chapter, starting Findingevie, and today as I write this. I think of all the things that brought me today one of my favorites being that dress and how it made me feel. Over and over sometimes I have to remind myself that I am more than my body and working on being secure in my mental state is even more important.
The problem here with my love story with my body is that I let too many outside sources control what I think about my body. I can’t imagine where I would be if I had not woken up one day and realized that the feeling I had in my wedding dress, is the feeling I should rely on. How I felt every time my niece told me I was pretty or that she loved me or the miracles of feeling beautiful. Beauties try not to depend on what others see in you and don’t rely on a kiss from a boy, or how a man handles a problem with you. Depend on yourself and how you know you are beautiful from the inside out.
Finding Evie 