The Image of Me

The last several weeks I have noticed there are a lot of going ons concerning people (primarily women) and surgery. A lot of these articles are regarding people loosing weight by means of surgery or having plastic surgery to enhance their appearance and how it’s changed their self perspective. All these articles and headlines have really got me to thinking about myself and how I feel about my image.

Warning: I am stepping up on a soap box with this post, this is purely an opinion and you know what they say about opinions….I am not claiming to be perfect or have all the answers….This is me spouting off my random thoughts about random things…If we are not offended by things, we are not living. 

I turned 31 in February and was reminded of something a friend told me. She had informed me that when I hit the thirty mark things change. It’s harder to lose weight, gravity starts taking effect, and time will start showing in my face. I kinda blew it off at the time but I get it now. I feel it and see it in my own body. I however also notice that this message is primarily about the physical. Why? My hair is almost all gray when I don’t dye it, my belly pooch jiggles a bit more than it used too, my boobs are already less perky, my ass not only jiggles when I walk but also seems have a few more dimples that are not the cute kind, and I pluck random hairs that sprout up from body parts that I didn’t know could sprout hair and let’s not forget I weigh more than I ever have in my life, 135 pounds. Regardless of all these factors, I don’t give a fuck. I’m happy.

Now don’t get me wrong, I care about my body. I consider it a machine and just like any good machine it needs to be taken care of. I do my best to eat primarily good things, I exercise regularly, try to keep from exposing myself to unnecessary chemicals found in soap, makeup, hair products etc. and try to feed my brain by reading and learning new things. I however don’t feel worried about my weight or looks in general because I constantly work my body. I’m constantly doing, not preserving. Instead of trying to preserve my youth I plan on using it up. Of course this  is going to age me but we are all going to die one day regardless. Although the person next to me may look better in their coffin than me, I want to have filled my time in this machine out on adventures, not in front of the mirror.

I did not always feel this way about myself and I’m glad I can honestly now say I do not strive to make my body into something it’s not. Not any more. This process of decorating my body with jewels, painting with nail polish, and lathering up to smell like a desert food, I find exhausting and something I never really felt brought me happiness anyways. I plan on using this machine for as long as I can and painting it with makeup and nail polish isn’t going to make it last longer. I do enjoy getting gussied up every once in a while don’t get me wrong, but this only gives me limited happiness. A body that is capable of exploring its limitations for an extended period of time is more what I’m in too.

So I guess what I’m trying to get across here is that I use my body in ways that it’s meant to be used; most importantly I use it. I don’t sit around and try to preserve it, I expose it to new things. It makes me sad to read about so many people resorting to surgery of some sort to find happiness with themselves. Even if I had the money to get a surgery to improve my body in some way I wouldn’t do it. Well…maybe I would remove my armpit hair, but after a while would I still be happy or would I look at removing another patch of annoying body hair? We should find new ways to use our bodies adapting to our age not on how to change them to fit societies ever-changing standards.

I am happy with my body and who I am. I may have a belly pooch and granny hairs but I take comfort in the fact that when shit goes down I can haul ass on foot and survive in the wilds because I know my body and treat it like the well oiled machine it is. It’s capable of amazing things. It sucks that so many of us humans (both males and females) strive so hard to conform to an unrealistic image. Could you imagine what we could do if we spent all that time and money on improving our relationships? our communities? our world?

paperair plan                                                                          Snggles Again

Me Posing In An Awesome Paper-Airplane Dress &  Me Posing Half Way Up Katahdin

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4 thoughts on “The Image of Me

  1. Snuggles I turned 50 this year; and I have noticed that the older I get the less I care about being so “girlie”. Oh I wear make up (just less of it) and occasionally paint my nails etc…but I have recently realized I want less stuff, less complicated relationships, others opinions of me matter SO MUCH LESS than they use to! I just want to focus on having more experiences! I love what you said about using up your youth to do things. We may not be 100% on the same page, but this blog spoke to me. 😊

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