"You pretend you're high
You pretend you're bored
You pretend you're anything
Just to be adored..."
Hahahaha, YEAH. Right on. ;) I was going to do Gwen Stefani today, but I chose Shirley because those lyrics relate to what I was going to talk about. A couple of days ago I said something about being the girl who sits on giant snowballs and how I'm sick of trying so hard to be accepted. I'll explain shortly.
I just finished day ten of the 30 Day Shred! Go ME! Level 1 is officially complete, and I must say, I do notice a difference in my body. The net weight loss of Level 1, however, was not that impressive -- only three pounds. My mom keeps reminding me that muscle weighs more than fat, and while I know that it's true, my scale does not measure how much muscle I have gained. Another thing to keep in mind is that my starting weight was 135. At 5'6", that is within the healthy weight range already, so I shouldn't really have been expecting to lose much. I WILL say that I am definitely noticing more muscle tone, strength, and endurance. I noticed something else while exercising that had nothing to do with fitness, and that was that I think my "gaydar" is getting a little better. Well, that can't be entirely accurate, because it's been picking up chicks that aren't actually gay -- so we'll call it my "wishful thinking radar". For example, Jillian Michaels. If she were, and if I were in a position to date anyone, and she were actually interested in me (BAHAHAHAHA -- a girl can DREAM, right???), she would totally be my type! I mean, yeah, she doesn't have a lot of tattoos. However, she still definitely qualifies as BAD ASS. Also...Kat Von D.
Good Goddess! Anyway, before I get carried away...what? Was I talking about something? Oh, right. Yeah.
I grew up in one suburban town until I was eight years old, at which point my parents decided that we should move to a rural area. I started fourth grade at a new school, and it was rather hard on me. I had been weird and different at my original school, but that was just me, and no one there had ever known me any other way. I read poetry for show and tell in first grade, I used big words, I carried around books no one else in my class was reading, and I had many quirky habits. It was all okay, though -- that's just the way I was, and I never thought for a second that I had anything to be ashamed of. Everything changed when we moved.
All of the girls in my class at my new school would stand in a circle. I often found myself standing on the outside of this circle, an outcast. I was quiet and I was shy, so I wasn't sure what I needed to do to befriend the girls and get in the circle. I resigned myself to being lonely and burying my nose in books, yet I still desired social acceptance and companionship. Some of these girls were mean and fourth grade was the first time I learned firsthand how petty and bitchy women can be to one another. All I wanted to do was make friends. All THEY wanted to do was find a weak link to use for their own amusement, someone desperate for acceptance, someone who would do anything to be liked. That winter, the bitches were standing in their circle and I approached them. I had white pants on and they told me that if I wanted to be their friend, I had to sit on this giant snowball nearby for all of recess. All too eagerly, I said, "Okay!"
I couldn't figure out why they were all laughing at me. I did what they wanted, but they were still not being my friends. I was hurt and confused. Those girls often did things like that to me, and so have other people throughout my lifetime. It all comes down to me being too desperate to be accepted and too eager to please other people. Just when I think I must have made someone happy because I have done exactly as she has requested, many times she is laughing at me and thinking, "Look at this stupid idiot, I can get her to do anything I want." No one respects a person like that. The last time it happened, I had made a new friend from an internet message board and we went out for drinks. A month or so later, the board had a party and she was there chatting with two other women. I was excited to see her and thought we were friends. When I came up and said hello, she asked me if I could get her some chips and salsa. I was happy to do it for her, as I thought that would be the type of thing a friend would do for another friend. When I brought the chips and salsa back to her table, I overheard her say to one of the other girls, "Did you see how fast she brought that back to the table?" followed by derisive laughter.
I recently posted on askjoanne asking whether or not I would be accepted in the lesbian community while I am still married to a man. That night, I wondered when I am going to stop worrying about whether other people accept me. When am I going to stop worrying about my family accepting my choices? When am I going to stop choosing hairstyles based on what my sister in law will accept? When will I stop removing piercings based on what my mother accepts? When will I stop ending relationships because of what my grandparents accept? The only person who needs to accept me is ME, and anyone who doesn't can fuck off for all I care. That's my new attitude, because I'm not sitting on any more giant snowballs.