Once upon a time, I would avoid the mirror. I’d run past, especially if I were naked. I’d force my gaze to stray from the areas I didn’t like. There wasn’t much that I did like. And it wasn’t just the morning routine that was disturbed by my self loathing. It was detrimental to my relationships. My self-consciousness infiltrated every area of my life in a way that others probably didn’t understand and maybe you can’t also understand unless you’ve been there, too.
Lately, as I’ve watched the pounds slowly melt off, as I’ve put on pants that I couldn’t wear for years, as I’ve shopped for clothes that actually fit, as I’ve found styles that accent my curves, I’ve been less reluctant to face what the mirror has to show me. I started with small steps. I allowed forced myself to view a little at a time, then a little more. Now I can stand in front of the mirror in full. I suppose I have desensitized myself to the images that I had convinced myself were so vile before.
Now I see me in the mirror, every day, as I apply lotion. I see my skin, my hair. I see my shape, I see my scars, my marks, my blemishes. I don’t love it all but I don’t hate it, either, and that’s the accomplishment. I don’t flinch or run away. I am more or less at peace and, yes, sometimes even happy with what I see, with parts that I used to hate.
The difference plays out in my life. I walk taller, shoulders back with my chin up. I spend more time beautifying myself. I laugh more. I am less self conscious in public, which makes me less uptight in general. I am more open because I am not trying to hide myself for fear that someone may realize that I am not an attractive person or, rather, that I don’t find myself attractive.
All this confidence only pushes me to do more because I can see it, in those mirror images, that I am almost where I want to be.
I intended for today to be a lazy, do-nothin’ type of day. Yet, somehow, I feel accomplished. The plan was to stay in my pajamas for the few hours I’d be awake, do a little writing, catch a snack and go back to bed. While I still plan to hit the hay sooner than later (let me fill you in on a secret: it was already dark when I woke up today!), I feel as though I’ve already finished so much.
As I type this, I am winding down and watching a movie: The Nightmare Before Christmas (I’ve finally opened my collector’s edition–it’s only been over a year!). I wrote, rooted my phone, edited some final settings after my second Windows reinstall, put away laundry, showered and shaved and even cleaned the toilet. Combined with the cleaning I did this morning, I am some sort of awesome get-er-done robot. With boobs.
Perhaps I feel accomplished because I set out to do nothing and did anything at all. Regardless, it feels good and anxiety is low.
I’ve never gone kite flying so I decided that this would be the year. I will buy a fancy kite or a kite that strikes my fancy and head to park on a windy day and try–or fail–to fly a kite. It doesn’t matter. Meaning is in the journey and all that. So here I am browsing the Internet for kites, figuring I’d find some pretty diamond one but, no, they all blow my damned mind!
When asked what I was passionate about, I found it hard to answer and what I did come up with didn’t seem significant enough. The truth is, however, I am passionate about people and things that affect them: freedom and opportunity, tragedies–both natural and man-made, the every day things and the once in a lifetime chances. I think it would be appropriate to be compassionate and I could not tell you that I try because, the truth is, I try not to be sometimes. It’s all to easy for me to get swept up in despair because I cannot possibly help everyone or even know where to start.
To help alleviate this despair, I decided that I would stick to what I’m good at. Every day, I would make my loved ones smile and laugh and feel good about themselves and, in my head, these ripples of goodness slowly spread outward and perhaps, just maybe, touch every corner of the world. Nevermind that it’s a sphere.
And maybe along the way I will discover some way that I can contribute in more “significant” ways because I know that saying “I make people laugh” doesn’t exactly sound like ground breaking life’s worth. But don’t let me undercut what I do because I am damned good at it and if I died today, the people I loved would be sad because there life was better for having me in it, for having me to make them laugh.
And that is awesome.
Yet, sometimes, the reality for those who I can’t make laugh hits me like a ton of bricks. And I get angry. Or sad. Or a hysterical combination of both. Because I care. Because I am passionate about people in general, despite my sarcastic and biting sense of humor that may indicate otherwise. That is how I felt when I stumbled across the following:
There is a country where the leading cause of death of pregnant women is murder by a partner. In this same country, more than a million women were raped in 2008 and women are much more likely to live in poverty than men. Local laws don’t protect their right to bodily freedom and integrity; some rape laws even state that once a woman initially consents to sex, she doesn’t have the right to change her mind.
You may have caught on by now — yes, I’m talking about the United States.
average life span of a transgendered person is twenty-three years. The statistic is shocking, until it begins to make sense. Gender non-conformists face routine exclusion and violence. Transgendered people are disproportionately poor, homeless, and incarcerated. Many of the systems and facilities intended to help low-income people are sex-segregated and thereby alienate those who don’t comply with state-imposed categories. A trans woman may not be able to secure a bed in a homeless shelter, for example. Spade writes that just as the feminist movement tended to “focus on gender-universalized white women’s experience as ‘women’s experience,’” the lesbian- and gay-rights movement has focused primarily on a white, middle-class politic, centered on marriage and mainstream social mores.
Google has stepped up and created a Person Finder page for those who may be missing in Japan. I personally clicked over and stumbled across an entry for someone looking for information about someone in Misawa. I left a little blurb to inform the poster than Misawa AB has reported no deaths or serious injuries. It’s really hard for me to read about what is going on over there right now. It just hits.. a little too close to home but I hope that I have helped.
And despite the political turn that has occurred, people like you and me are stepping up to help others. Like this Tumblr user who want to give rides to women in Virginia who require an abortion but must now travel out of state for the service. Or this user who says (and I paraphrase) “You know what? Abortion isn’t for me but I respect the life of the living as well as the yet-to-live.”
Pro-choice is not pro-abortion. Pro-choice is often far more pro-life than “pro-life” is. I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone who thinks abortion is just fantastic or the new perfect birth control, that’s not how it goes. If you really want a lower abortion rate, put your time and effort into education and health care (you know, programs like Planned Parenthood). No one has any right to tell a woman what to do with her body or anything that’s growing inside of it. No one has any right to put women in danger for a group of cells, especially a group of cells they will later ignore and expect to fend for itself.
It is 4:26 and I am newly showered. I am waiting for Wendy to awake but I realize that she may not work at her usual time. So, I am sitting here in a towel, listening to the quiet hum of my laptop. It is very calming and I realize that I have not been in a place where I could simply listen to it hum away. Wendy’s computer is ridiculously loud–so loud that you can easily hear it down the hall, in the bedroom. My laptop hums away; although, sometimes it is nearly silent.
It’s a shame that I do not take solace in the comforting and familiar sounds around me more often. The narrator of my relaxation CD tells me to do this as I fall asleep and, I must admit, the CD is more effective now than ever. Where I used to listen to it all the way through, and be wide awake, I am falling asleep with no concept of how long I have been listening to it. And sleeping through the night without so many awakenings. The result? I am sleeping far less than I used to. Perhaps still more than your average person (although, I have nothing on your average bear).
Now to get on a normal sleeping schedule because, as you can guess, it is quite abnormal for me to be awake at 4:26 in the morning and I won’t even make it to 8 o’clock tonight. I didn’t last night. That’s okay. I sleep much more soundly when it is dark. Luckily, Wisconsin offers me around sixteen hours of darkness every day and it certainly messes with one’s inner clock–especially if one is not awake during the few hours of light. This is also why I want to adjust my schedule.
But, for now, it is 4:41 and I am calmed by the sound of my laptop and that is all I need.
