smart. i am.

life is a never ending circle of something err something that means something that makes you go "wowwww that was deep" and repeat it to everyone you know while simultaneously posting them to all your social media.

i'm not a very deep person. pretty house pretty tree syndrome. is that a real thing? because it's what cory tells me i have.

i married a really smart guy. and sometimes that comes back to bite me in the ass.

growing up with a mom whose third language is english and a dad who's a redneck from muskogee, oklahoma means i have like the worst grammar ever. i say y'all, call my kids darlin' and sugar, and use words that i think are really smart & shit that actually mean something completely different.

it's a problem.

and it's only a problem because i'm an extremely self conscious person. to be laughed at ruins my entire day. which probably means i'm emotionally imbalanced. not really all that surprising.

cory made this really genius comic worthy of its own graphic novel with our friend tessa. in it he describes his most embarrassing moment. my most embarrassing moment? it involves my first day of junior high, the day after aunt flo appeared for the very first time, period blood and a denim jumper. i haven't made a comic worthy of its own graphic novel detailing my most embarrassing moment. because it's tragic is why. it's even too tragic for a humorous montage in a judd apatow movie.

then this one time when i was a budding pre-teen who knew nothing about boys my best friend had me stand look out outside her bathroom while she did god knows what with a boy in the shower stall. that basically sums up my entire adolescence. clueless third wheel.

see? self conscious. not really all that surprising.

it's so funny to me that a naive, prude little private school girl grew up to be, well, me.

the woman who shaved her head & not her legs for a good solid year just to make people uncomfortable.
the woman whose mother would disown her if she knew just how liberal she is.
pro-choice, pro-gays, pro-people are allowed to make their own fucking decisions. it's shocking, right?
i mean...in high school & the first year of college i definitely had a hoodie that said "abortion is homicide".
when i think about that girl who wore that thing it makes me wanna punch her in the tit.
how insensitive was i? i mean, really. i wish i could write everyone who ever had to see that a lengthy apology including footnotes on my childhood.

and i no longer try to pretend like i'm a deep thinking philosopher of life & all.

that was so community college...

i know what's important to me.
i know the kind of children i want to raise.
i know i like bacon.
i know i love to drink beer.
i know i will always picture my things in other people's houses.
i know my family is better than anyone else's.
and i know all these things define who i am as a person.

and for some reason it felt really important to write all that down today.

i want to

wear pretty dresses

spin around in circles

get a weekly manicure

learn how to walk in heels

wrap a long string of pearls around my neck

learn how to properly use false eyelashes

walk with my shoulders straight and head high

have the kind of class and grace of a starlet alongside jimmy stewart

curl my hair

shit, brush my hair

and do it all while driving a big ass truck covered in the finest red mud around

care enough to care

the thing about learning to love yourself is that you have to ignore all outside influences.

i spent my day cleaning our bedroom, which meant hours of folding laundry, which i usually do with the television as my companion. jenny craig told me multiple times that i needed to eat their food so i could lose 20 pounds. a size 6 actress told me that "big girls wear shapers under everything". fuck you..the only time i wore a shaper was the day i got married, and i hated every second of it.

there's the television, the magazines while i'm waiting to buy my groceries, the billboards on the side of the highway, the people in my life offering to send me to weight watchers.

and all their voices seem so much louder than the one in my head.

i weave in and out of self confidence.

some days i feel untouchable. like nothing can bring me down off this high i've recently found. the high where i love the chub in my armpits, the cellulite on my thighs, and even my belly.

others i avoid looking in the mirror all together. i catch a picture of me that was taken when i didn't know it and am disgusted with what i see. i hate it all, right down to the weight i've gained in my hands and face.

and it's always the same, whether i weigh 160 pounds or 260. i wonder if i'll ever be comfortable in my own body. and why i can't find that place where i love myself enough to care.

and the worst part is that every woman, and probably even most men, who are reading this are nodding their head thinking things like "this is exactly how i feel".

it's like we're trained early on that we're not worth much outside of what other people see when they glance our way. they probably look at me and think "she'd be pretty if she weren't so fat" or "why do fat girls think they can wear short shorts?".

and in doing so they fail to ever know the real me. and if they did they'd know that i happen to be talented, funny at times, have a decent sense of humor, enjoy good music just as much as i enjoy good food, love going for walks, adore the ocean, and a good book..among other things that make me wonderful.

and none of this really even matters because those other voices will always be there. i just need to learn to employ the selective hearing skills being a mother has offered me.

i need to develop my own opinions of myself and quit relying on what others think. and i need to learn to love myself enough to take care of myself.

late night cake eating to drown my sorrows doesn't make me feel better, even if it does give me the brilliant idea of forcing siri to call me "the goddess of cake". nothing feels better than a long walk or maybe even a jog. i've been dying to try yoga but am terrified that i'll fail miserably. i adore hooping but can't force myself to go outside and play.

i'm worth it. we all are. and i want my children to grow up with the confidence to love themselves..know themselves..and know better than to listen to the other voices.

by the way, i realize i've been extremely ego-centric as of late..especially in the self portrait department. there's a good reason, other than me being completely vain. 

i'm taking part in this incredible class with a group of brave, beautiful women and it's causing me to do a lot of searching within myself. it's been challenging, exciting, and terrifying all at the same time.