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02.05.2007 ~~ 2:26 pm
Every time I see my mother, she does this seemingly obvious straightening of her spine thing, which I always took to be her way of telling me to sit up straight.
Granted, it could just be her, realizing she's slouching, and unslouching.
But I always took it personally, which cuts like a double-edged knife.
It's bad enough that I've realized that I do tend to be slouchy. What's worse is her reminders to sit up straight when all my life she told me I was too busty. When I stood up straight, she told me I couldn't tuck in my shirt because I was too busty, or asked me what the hell was going on with my bras because my boobs looked huge. Later, her incinuations were that I was just too fat. Funnily... or sadly enough, that was about the time I was finally becoming comfortable with my body. I was probably a size 10 with two children and finally enough distance from my mother and enough love in my life to say, "Fuck it. I'm who I am, and I'm happy with that." And there she was, cringing at the outfits I was trying on for a friend's wedding. Even thinking about that now makes me want to slouch down into a little ball. The insecurities she instilled in me were enough to keep me from enjoying the first... well, most of my life. I'd been ashamed of my body for so long, and I know some people say it's a cop-out to blame one's parents, but when you have someone emotionally abusing you, especially during the formative years... how is it your fault when you turn out fucked up?
I'm finally now learning to be okay with my body. The habit is hard to break, though.
I feel like I'm always curled up in an effort to protect myself. This will hide my belly. This will hide my boobs. This will hide my heart from the piercing pain.
What do you think? (0)
