body image « Heartbreak Nymphomania

7Jan/101

Fitness

First off, I'd like to say that this isn't a fat-negative post. I'm not a thin girl; I'm naturally on the curvier/chubbier side, and I love my curves. Fat is hot, and healthy, and fit, and I'm looking forward to the day when people can use the term "fat" and have it interpreted as a compliment, not an insult. (With the Filipino side of my family, it actually is a compliment. Calling someone "fat" is often teasingly accompanied by "sexy." Although Filipinos have their own beauty-standard stupidities, but that's probably a topic for a later post.)

Over the past few months, I've somehow managed to gain 6.5kg (about 14.3lbs. Hmm, looks like the freshman 15 hit me 3 years late). I've spent most of my life being in between 50 and 55kg - usually 50kg - so I'm on the heavier side right now. My belly is a lot bigger, and my inner thighs are flabbier. Unfortunately for me, my weight gain is a direct result of living an unhealthier lifestyle, and not taking as much care of my body as I should. For the past year, I have:

- been eating less healthily. I usually have a burger once or twice a term, as a guilty pleasure of sorts, but I've really let go and have been eating lots of junk food. Burgers, spicy wings, fries, etc. I've been eating more than I need to, as well. This is all due to bigger portions, unhealthy food being readily available, healthy and tasty food being more difficult to find, etc, but I could have a lot more willpower, and try harder to eat well. I've always liked rich food and desserts a lot more than I should, too.

- not had an exercise routine. Ever since I've come to college, I go to the gym now and again, but not regularly, and it shows. When I was using the Wii Fit at Mina & Sylvanus' place, it concluded that I had the fitness/physique of a 35 year old. (I'm 22!)

- picked up quite the alcohol habit. I always drink at parties, and used to drink maybe once or twice a week, but over the year I started playing pong more often, and last summer I got into the habit of having at least one drink a night. Not enough to get sloshed, just pleasantly tipsy. Still, I think I polished off two bottles of Patron in two months :/ (Ahh, that was good stuff.) It got to the point where I was drinking even when I didn't really want to, but just because I was used to doing it. I never really thought about alcohol as calories until now; I always thought of drinks as magically outside of the "food & beverage" category. And my drinking is a problem not just because it's bad for my body. I drink when I'm nervous. I drink to try and be more social and uninhibited. I believe J put it best - I was hanging out at his frat with him and his friends, and I started getting really socially anxious, so I disappeared and hid for a bit to try and calm down. J found me and made me feel better, and remarked, "alcohol isn't going to fix this." Just like that; very simple. But he's right - the booze might help a little, but it's not a permanent solution. To be honest, I don't think I drink more than most people at my college. I probably drink less, in fact. Nevertheless, people I know have frequently nagged me about drinking too much - and nagging is probably the worst way to get me to do anything. Now I've decided for myself that I want to drink less, though, I'm going to go ahead and do it.

There are plenty of reasons why I want to get in better shape... so I can fit into my cute skirts and tight tops again (seriously, I can't wear some of my clothes anymore, it's so depressing), so I can have more stamina during sex (I might be sexually versatile, but I can be really lazy too) and just to feel good (eating well and going to the gym are annoying habits to start, but once I start doing them I feel a lot more energized and better mentally).

I've come up with some things I can do to improve my habits:

- keep a food log. Not calories, just stuff I eat. I've been doing this for a few days and so far it's very useful in keeping track of how much vegetables, fruits, desserts, etc I eat, and it's easier for me to notice whether or not I'm eating too much of the same thing.

- no food after a certain point in the day. As in, no food right before bed or late at night when my day is winding down. Haven't stuck to this because my sleep is still sort of erratic.

- give away the booze I don't want. I'm going to donate unwanted booze to J's housewarming party tomorrow. There's no point keeping the stuff around if I don't actually like it, plus this way I'm less tempted to just drink randomly.

- limit drinking to twice a week. Zeta Mu meetings and the weekends. And no drinking by myself. Going to try and limit the number of drinks I have a night, too. I'm usually tipsy on 2 drinks and really drunk at 6, so I guess I'll set 2-3 as a maximum.

- cut out certain foods/drinks. No burgers, fast food, or soda. Limit the amount of dessert I eat. I've switched from soda to tea, and so far that's worked out really well.

- go to the gym 3x a week. Me and M have agreed to go to the gym twice a week at a set time, which is great because I hate going to the gym by myself. I also signed up for an Anusara yoga class.

- have a health buddy. Maybe my mom, since we've both been complaining about unhealthy habits and how we want to change them. She's cutting down on her drinking and quit smoking a month ago now; I'm proud of her for being able to do that. Just having someone to talk to and being able to motivate and encourage each other always helps.

If you have any more suggestions for me, I'd love to hear them

Filed under: body image, drunk, reflections 1 Comment

20Aug/099

HNT: Peepshow

Warning! Rant ahead. Take this as a release after a long while of buildup...

DSCN3345

I can probably mark my onset of puberty with the day men first started
sketching on me in the middle of the street.

This was before I was fashion-conscious, and before I considered myself attractive, you understand. I was just this dumpy, awkward, nerdy-looking girl who could do with washing her hair a few more times per week. Anyway, one day when I was 15 years old, I was out with my family. I was wearing jeans and a bottle-necked, thick, white sweater. We were entering a clothing store when I felt the unmistakable sensation of a hand surreptitiously groping my ass. I spun around indignantly, angrily, to see the guy I thought did it gliding smoothly away.

Later, I for some reason decided to go home ahead of everyone else. So I was walking home, in the middle of the day in this big city, and this guy comes up to me and starts asking me questions about the firework display that's happening later that day. Fine, I thought naively, he's just some lost foreigner who wants to know what's going on in the city. So I answered him.

But after a while he started asking me questions about me. Where I lived, what my name was, if I'd spend time with him. It was at this point that I just started walking away, hoping that he wouldn't follow me.

"Tell me your name," he called after me.

"No," I said.

And of course there were all the instances where people just made remarks loudly at me: "hey beautiful", "want to come with me?", cat-calls, whatever. Which always makes me feel more like I was being talked at than talked to. As if I were a tasty-looking meal or a nice car that they're voicing their approval of.

I'm only writing about this now because today I was wearing the above outfit and while I was waiting for the bus, some guy walked past me, commented on how attractive I was, then asked me my age. Thankfully, he simply left right after that and I just felt embarrassed. But it reminded me of something that happened when I was in San Francisco. Incidentally, I was wearing the exact same outfit. It was a poor choice for the day in question, as it was a particularly windy day and I was giving free pantyshots all over the place. Great.

Anyway I was trying to meet a friend and had got a bit lost, so I was wandering around looking kind of confused. And then this dude starts walking with me. Asking me personal questions, asking me to hang out with him, saying "when I saw you I thought - wow! - you're special," etc, etc. I eyerolled, thought "sure, like you can tell so much about me just by looking at me," gave him a fake name, gave him a fake number, hoped he would be contented with that and just go away, made it clear to him that I was busy and had to meet a friend, but he didn't leave. He followed me for at least two fucking blocks.

He finally left when I started ignoring him, which is what I should have done in the first place.

I am too fucking polite with these people.

I've always reacted to these encounters with a confusing slew of emotions. On the one hand, I felt strangely flattered. At least I'm attracted enough to get noticed, right? But that feeling was always quashed very fast. Why were these guys doing this? Was there just something about me, or the way I dressed, that just screamed "I AM A GIRL WITH NO STANDARDS, FUCK ME"? Plus, how come no normal, young, decent men tried to approach me? Why was it always these creepy, middle-aged men who lurked around on street corners?

(Hmm. It's probably because all the decent guys know better than to do shit like that.)

Let me get something straight...

When I put an outfit together, I wear it because it is aesthetically pleasing to me and rarely because I will be using it to seduce someone.

Here are a few things this particular outfit means to me:

a reference to punk/punk lolita/goth/gothic lolita
tough femininity
a twist on the typical school uniform (Roommate once said I dress like "a demented schoolgirl" and a quarter of the time, yes, I do)
black, red and white are three of my favorite colors, and I also really like plaid

So, please tell me, where exactly in there is the message "I REALLY want strange men to chat me up"?

I briefly considered changing the way I dress, thinking that maybe it would help... but then I realized something. There's nothing wrong with the way I dress. The ones with the problem are those men who come up to me.

---

I realize that my posting this rant together with an HNT is pretty ironic. I suppose it does look like I'm employing a double-standard. Some would say that by posting HNTs, I'm only objectifying myself.

But let me point a few things out. This is my sexblog, where, among other things, I post erotica and sexy pictures, because those are two ways I like to express myself. Under this post, there is a comments section. In this context, making comments on my appearance is appropriate. Just like if I were at a bar or frat party, and someone started flirting with me, I wouldn't be pissed off because the context is appropriate. Of course, I still expect anyone who comments on my posts or flirts with me to act polite, respectful and basically like a decent human being.

I am a sexually liberal woman who posts half-nekkid pictures of myself online, runs around Zeta Mu in my underwear, and is comfortable hanging out naked with my friends in the woods.

That does not make it okay for you to invade my personal space, interrupt my day, or try to push me into something that I'm not comfortable doing.

Thanks for reading.

Filed under: HNT, body image, feminism, life, reflections 9 Comments

12Aug/096

Anxieties

A quick glance into my head over the course of a typical workweek...

---

God. There's too much sauce on my sandwich and it's dripping onto my plate. It's really bothering me. I hope no one else is noticing. Most of the girls are eating a lot lighter - salads, and fruit... She's eating a stew though. I hope I don't have any food in my teeth...

I'm probably prettier than at least half of them. No - most of them. But the ones who are prettier than me are so much prettier than me. Like her, that Asian girl, with her little button nose. And the platinum blond, she looks like an ice princess. I'll never be able to look as pretty as that. I think I look good, but I still can't think of myself as a thin girl. Just curvy, which is basically a euphemism for fat, isn't it...

They're all so well put together. Make-up impeccably done, jewelry, purses... I don't actually own a purse because I find them annoying, but I look like a schoolkid in my backpack and thick-framed glasses. Like a child. Everyone thinks I look at least 5 years younger than I am, and they can't explain why. Is it my round cheeks? Do I act immature? I hope not. Every time I complain, people say I should be grateful, that I'll age well, but now it's just plain annoying. I don't want people to not take me seriously...

Why can't I concentrate? Why can't I get any words down on the page? The two people next to me are. They're just sitting there completely wrapped up in their work, why can't I do the same? What's wrong with me?

I wanted to take one more of those cupcakes, but I can't now that she's looked at the package and exclaimed over how many calories are in it. She's gone now, but she'll probably hear the sound of the plastic if I open the box... I better not take one...

I've had a bad throat for weeks now. Every time answer the phone - hello - my voice cracks, and every time I greet someone the first word I utter sounds like a croak. It's so ugly, so graceless. I hate it...

When did I get those two coffee-drop stains on my white skirt? The outfit is ruined now. I'm going to be thinking about those spots all day. I should have worn something else.

I shouldn't have jacked him off. It was just the second date! I probably gave too much too fast. What if he respects me less because of it?

Crap, I have to walk into the board meeting and get her? All the board members will stare at me. ...Well, better get it over with...

---

I'm pretty neurotic at the best of times, but today was a particularly neurotic day for me.

And I used to be much worse. Sooo much worse.

I was thinking on the bus back from work today that judgment is one of the things I fear the most. Which is why I don't usually do very well with things that involve comparison with others; where I'm not quite sure I'll be able to excel.

So I usually try escape or avoid the situation. Or, when I'm stuck with the situation, I'll simply remove myself from the system. Make myself an outsider. Because if you're not participating in the system, you can't be judged according to its standards, right? I'm tempted to do just that with my job - ditch the girly outfits for a collared shirt and slacks for a day could be one way.

The problem with that, however, is that it only works for so long. Sometimes in order to get anywhere you need to embrace the system. When it comes to that, my typical approach is useless.

Filed under: body image, life, reflections, relationships 6 Comments

26Jun/094

The “Ideal” Woman

kellylicious5

[Canto-pop idol Kelly Chen]

I appreciate and am attracted to women of all different shapes, sizes, ethnicities and personal styles. Most of me understands that beauty comes in many different forms, all unique and special in their way, and I like to think I'm open-minded when it comes to people's appearances.

But a part of me, say 20%, insists on disbelieving that. This 20% believes in an "ideal" woman who renders every other type of woman out there inferior in comparison. This woman is very feminine and graceful. She is typically white or East Asian, so slight in build that she looks like a strong wind would blow her away. Her skin is pale and flawless; whatever outfit she wears is perfectly put together (from make-up to accessories to shoes); her features are strong, but delicate. She makes you want to protect her. You also want to take her in your arms and never let her go - but you feel too afraid to. You feel like you'll break her if you touch her because you're too clumsy - that or you just don't feel worthy enough. All you can do is admire her from afar.

The ideal woman is a porcelain doll.

I hate that part of me still thinks this way, but I have to acknowledge that I do. I hope that, with time, I can question and examine these views of mine enough that they'll become non-existant.

Korean pop singer BOA untitled2

[Korean pop singer BOA]

For a long time, I didn't even begin to think outside of this limited little box, and, as always, it largely has to do with the type of culture and standards of beauty I grew up with.

Of course, the Western world largely dictates that "attractive" people have to be thin, or fit, or whatever. But I won't hesitate to posit that East Asian culture is even more limiting in that aspect. In the West, certain types of "fat" are desireable. Big boobs, hips, or ass for example. But in Asia, or at least where I live, in Hong Kong, even those aren't considered good qualities. Female celebrities here seem to have 0% body fat, don't have much in terms of breasts, and don't have much of a figure, either. And if you walk around the city, at least half the women you see are thin. I've seen some people whose waists looked like I could snap them in half with my bare hands.

[Japanese pop legend Ayumi Hamasaki]

Personally, I'm not attracted to the "ideal" woman all that often. But sometimes, I wonder if I just force myself not to be attracted to her because I'm jealous. I don't look like that.

I am not a large person. Most people I've met in the US think I'm thin (but curvy/shapely). I wear a US size small, and even then sometimes when I shop I find that clothes are all slightly too big for me.

But before I came to the US, I spent most of my life thinking I was fat. Compared to most of the other girls around me, I felt clunky and ungainly. When I shop here, I wear a large, and most of the time dresses and trousers are much too tight for me. For goodness' sake, I bought a pair of "one size fits all" thigh-high socks once, but ended up cutting the foot bits off and using them as arm-warmers. They were that tight!

I felt awful about myself because I thought that I could look "attractive" only if I tried hard enough. But over time I realized that I'm never going to look like those women. And it's not my fault (well, I could work out more and eat less desserts) because my body simply isn't meant to be that way. My mother is white and my dad is Filipino. My mother and her mother are both pear-shaped, curvy women. And that's perfectly okay.

Twins

[Canto-pop duo "Twins"]

However, upon coming back to Hong Kong for the summer, I feel self-conscious wearing my cute summer dresses and mini skirts when I go out. I almost feel like a small elephant tramping around the streets.

And I'm not the only one. My elder sister, who is thinner than I am, not fat by any standards at all, and gorgeous, feels bad about her appearance sometimes. A number of her white, expatriate friends feel depressed about their looks here, when in their home countries they are considered beautiful.

They, and I, shouldn't have to feel this way. I shouldn't have to feel like ashamed of my body; like covering myself up. Nobody should have to feel that way, regardless of whether they're considered generically "hot" or not.

These women are indeed beautiful - but it's just one kind of beauty. I'm going to remember the confidence I felt in the US and the Caribbean, I'm going to wear my cute, revealing outfits whenever I feel like it, and I'm not going to let these standards limit me.

Filed under: body image, feminism, reflections 4 Comments

9May/092

Into the Woods

Or: why I love Zeta Mu (my fraternity) so much

So Zeta Mu (the gender neutral fraternity I'm a member of) does this termly thing where they reserve a cabin and a bunch of us truck on up there for a night of merrymaking. Last night was my first time going, and it was really nice - small, cosy group of people, beautiful temperature/surroundings, and a nice, low-key level of socializing.

At one point we all walked down to the nearby river and sat on a conveniently large, platform-shaped piece of rock. It was lovely: full moon covered by clouds, midnight-blue sky, the rush of water over rocks, and good company. Actually, it was the same place that I had really good outdoors-sex with K about a year ago now, and I smiled when I thought about it. Good memories, without a trace of bitterness.

It gets better. Somebody jokingly says 'skinny dipping' and, of course, K and his best friend are all over that idea, strip almost immediately, and run up the rocks a little to get into the water. I'm assuming it's too cold or whatever (um, the Northeast in the middle of the night?!) because they come back and announce that they've decided to peer-pressure the rest (8) of us to be naked with them.

Surprisingly, people start caving. It's kinda funny. I actually feel like being naked so I'm one of the earlier people to cave, until the only people left are two of the gay men who eventually give in as well.

It gets better still. After a bit of awkwardly standing around/exploring the area naked, we huddle in a circle to feel less cold, and then somebody suggests doing a bonding exercise that they learnt at X conference.

So we did. It involved doing kegel exercises and taking deep breaths, while at the same time letting out sounds if it felt right, while one or two of the 'leaders' went through a list of colors/peaceful images that we were supposed to focus on. By the end, it had built up into this big jumble of moans, grunts, contented sighs and giggles.

We were ten people of varying ethnicities, genders, sexual orientations. All of us had clearly imperfect bodies. None of the men had washboard abs, and weren't ripped in any sense. The girls were pretty heavy and had amazing boobs. The one girl who could be considered "thin" had no figure whatsoever. My breasts were clearly the tiniest out of everyone's. But the imperfections, the differences, were fascinating. Our bodies just... made sense.

We were ten people standing naked in the middle of the woods enjoying each other's closeness in a purely platonic, non-sexual manner.

And to think that two years ago, I was embarrassed about lounging about naked with my boyfriend after we had just had sex.

Filed under: K, body image, exhibitionism & voyeurism, frat life, life, reflections 2 Comments

13Feb/0913

HNT: Heels and Androfemmeinity

I love wearing heels.

I love how they make my legs look shapelier and I feel ten times sexier. And red heels? Twice as good. Unfortunately I can't wear them for more than a few hours at a time because my feet get sore...

Towards the end of last term I began thinking of re-introducing "butch" back into my wardrobe - which is a little ironic, because as soon as I had the chance to shop I instantly splurged on the most femmy things imaginable (read: lots of high heels, skinny jeans, and lacy underwear). But lately I have been feeling like dressing more "butch" - at least butch-er than how I usually dress. Collared shirts, hoodies, sweatpants. I've always thought of myself as a femme with butch accents - and I want to smash the two genders, the two aesthetics, together - combining my navy-with-white-polka-dots, ruffled miniskirt with white combat boots, for example.

When I dress in a "masculine" manner, however, it's never really masculine, it's more just my femmeinity expressed in a different form. A little Tank Girl, a little dandy. I re-interpret masculinity to suit my needs.

dietrich_smoking-suit

pink-with-beer1

[via SublimeFemme Unbound]

I find both gender expressions powerful, but in very different ways. When I'm decked out in heels and a dress and makeup, I feel drop-dead gorgeous enough to knock anyone off their feet just from looking at me - but butchness exhibits a very different kind of power. An audacious, inappropriate, active kind of power.

(For anyone who's curious - my heels are from Asos and the underwear from Cotton On )

More of the same:

SublimeFemme Tells All No. 15

Tomboy Femme & Other Multigendered Femmes

Finding My Multigendered Femme Identity

Can a Femme be Butch too?

Filed under: Gender, HNT, Queer, Uncategorized, body image, fashion, femme, genderfuck, queer identity 13 Comments

1Jan/098

HNT: End of the Year

I'm going with the End of the Year theme and reposting my favorite HNT of the year... even though I haven't done all that many in the first place I wanted to do a new one, but... turns out I have pretty much no privacy at home. I share a room with my 16 year old sister, and every time I try to kick her out she bombards me with whys. She even found this blog by purposefully looking up wordpress on the browsing history, after seeing me use wordpress a couple of times. Argh.

Anywayyy... I'm glad of the theme because it coincides with me wanting to look back on the year, and on my blogging experience so far.

So my favorite HNT (and probably most of yours if stats are anything to go by ) is Beautiful:

Why is it my favorite? Pretty simple - I look gorgeous in this picture. Not just my body, but... the pose, the color of the backdrop, and the overall mood is just so delicate.

When I took this picture and I reached out my hand like that I was thinking of pushing a door open or pushing a curtain aside and discovering something new. And, looking at the picture now, it says so much about how this past year and this blog have changed me.

Throughout me and the Actor's relationship, we've had so many conversations where I angst over my average grades/crappy social skills/body/failures/whatever and think of ways that I could improve myself, and he always insisted that most of my problems stemmed from my low self-esteem, and that I should work on improving that instead. At the time, I disagreed with him.

He definitely isn't the first person to say that to me. My mum, and basically any friend who has gotten close enough to me throughout my post-childhood life has told me that I'm way too hard on myself.

I spent a very long time believing a plethora of unhealthy things. When I met a new person, I anticipated that they would either dislike me/reject me, or would only spend time with me because they wanted something from me. I'd feel anxious about approaching new people because I thought that they would snub me. I frequently doubted whether my friends really cared about me. (Example - it took 8 months of friendship with Christopher and various different forms of 'proof' before I believed that he truly cared about me.) When people complimented me/were nice to me/I achieved something good I would brush it off as a fluke, or question the person's intentions. But at the same time I would believe that my friends were always right and I was always wrong.

I thought I was unattractive. I remember times I would get up in the morning and sit down on my bed in the middle of dressing, and look down at myself and just feel depressed.

I felt somehow different; that I didn't fit in or belong anywhere. I disliked myself. I thought I wasn't good enough and never would be good enough.

So, no surprise that the Actor frequently told me I needed more self-confidence. But I didn't even know what confidence meant, why people felt confident, or how to get more of it. The Actor explained it as having faith in yourself - but then my next question was why would I have faith in myself? Not like I've given myself any reason to! His response to that was - you just have to.

Self-confidence is the 'something new' that I discovered over the past year.

I'm not trying to portray myself as this person who has struggled and tried really hard and finally 'made that change!' It wasn't as if I knew what to do and purposefully set out to change myself. It's more like I searched very hard and managed to learn and find ways that would help me along the way. The ironic thing is that most of these 'ways' are things that any adviser/therapist/book would have told me, except that I could only use them after discovering them and evaluating them for myself.

I can narrow them down to a few:

Leaving my hometown and experiencing places and people that had different (maybe more open) mindsets than what I was used to
Instead of trying very hard to 'fit' myself into a particular mold or act the way 'everyone else' acted, I acted in the ways that I wanted to - that made me feel comfortable - and used my efforts to find social spaces and people that accepted me the way I was
Breaking negative thought patterns (and this is definitely something that I heard during one of my few counseling sessions, except that I scoffed at it at the time). Learning to recognize when my thoughts would go out of control and become excessively negative, critical and bad. Instead of merely letting the thoughts consume me, I'd stop myself and question what I was thinking, and try to think of possible alternatives to why I 'failed', or whether the failure was even a failure at all. E.g., instead of blaming myself for setbacks and assuming I was a 'bad person' because of those setbacks, I thought of possible outside reasons that could have caused it. Maybe it wasn't as big a deal as I thought it was and I could maybe use it as an opportunity for growth, etc. I didn't believe myself for a while at the beginning but merely considering other options helped.
Meeting wonderful and supportive friends, fwbs, Caribbean dorm-mates, readers and members of the sexblogging community My college friends have been amazing - letting me vent on them, disagreeing with me when I criticized myself and reassuring me that they cared about me and that they thought I was an awesome person. My fwbs told/showed me how attractive and sexy they found me so often and insistently that in the end I just had to believe that they meant it And my readers have been so supportive and left such lovely comments
Examining myself and exposing myself on my sexblog
Doing things/taking classes/etc that I love and that make me happy, instead of doing things I thought I was 'supposed' to be doing
Letting people's compliments, affirmation and positivity in and accepting/believing them instead of brushing them aside, denying them or trying to find some ulterior motive behind them

I still 'relapse' sometimes. Just today, I'm supposed to meet up with my friend N and I couldn't even give him a meet-up time because I started worrying about the possibility of inconveniencing him, of spending too much time with him and boring him, and looking too desperate to see him but... he's my friend for goodness' sake! Why would he be my friend if he didn't want to spend time with me?!

So overall, I've broken out of my dark little 'box.' And it feels wonderful.

Happy new year

Filed under: HNT, blogging, body image, life, reflections 8 Comments

16Dec/085

Sometimes

Sometimes...

I wish I were thin.

There are times when I feel beautiful and desired - and those times are wonderful. They don't come around very often. (But they used to not occur at all.)

But then there are times when I look at myself and all I notice is that my thighs rub against each other when I walk; that I wear big, nerdy glasses; that I'm small and dumpy; that my belly is bigger than it used to be; that my breasts are still too small. (But if I were no longer curvy, I think I would miss it...)

And for every person who likes me and I like back, there's a hundred people I like and who are too good for me. They chase the pretty, outgoing, svelte girls. And for every person who likes me and I like back, there's a hundred people who like me and I don't feel at all attracted to them. I wish I did - but instead I find them sketchy, unattractive, overbearing, overeager, arrogant...

Sometimes...

I wish I were drop-dead gorgeous.

Filed under: angst, body image, drunk, feminism, reflections 5 Comments

27Nov/0825

HNT: Beautiful

You get out of the shower and realize that your friends have both gone out. You smile; you have the hotel room to yourself. To drop the towel, and walk out of the bathroom naked, is a relief. It's not that you particularly enjoy being naked; it's just nice to have the freedom to.

But tonight you're taking unusual pleasure in the cool evening air fluttering through the blinds and over your damp skin; in your body that's moving through space.

Outside: it's raining. Inside: it's as quiet as can be.

You finish towelling yourself dry, and begin to comb your hair. You can't bring yourself to get dressed. Every inch of your body is ringing with hypersensitivity. Cold, hard floor on your bare feet; the itchy rub of flannel on your skin; the soft, teasing brush of your hair against the small of your back.

You finish brushing your hair and float about the room - rearranging something here, tidying something there.

And all of a sudden, you catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror. And you look. For once, you aren't staring because you're thinking of all the things you don't like, and all the things you want to change. You're staring because you notice curves, and tapering lines, and grace.

It's not one of those times when you think you look halfway decent. Or even one of those times when you check yourself out. (Wow. I look cute today.)

No; this is one of those times - the first time, really - that you feel... just... quite... beautiful.

Filed under: Erotica, HNT, body image, journal 25 Comments

2Oct/085

HNT: Tanlines

Wow, I didn't think I would ever do a HNT because of the whole 'oh-no-I-don't-like-my-body-grahh' thing, but recently I've become way more comfortable, accepting, and happy with the way I look. Flat chest, cellulite-thighs, and all. Being in a country where curves and wide hips are considered awesome, and people don't really care as much about boobs (!) probably helps.

Last week me and a few other tripmates spent the entire weekend on various beaches - here's the result! I'm very happy with it =) My forehead and nose got mildly sunburnt though... skin has just started to peel and looks a little odd.

Beaches here. Are. AWESOME. Hot sun, clear green-blue water, gorgeous sunsets... I'm in heaven.

Oh - and the bikini is from Victoria's Secret. Sprang $35 on it over the summer... well worth it, I think it's adorable. I've no patience for extravagant, flowery, colorful, strappy suits. Sometimes Occam's Razor applies to clothes too - simple is best.

HHNT!

Filed under: HNT, Uncategorized, body image, fashion 5 Comments

Older Entries »

This blog contains adult content.

Wilhelmina Wang. Queer, female college student with her mind lodged firmly in the gutter, seeking genderbenders, lessons in BDSM, a meaningful fuck, and a point in life.

Here's where her mind is spilled like the proverbial guts.

Protected posts: Of a more personal nature. Contact me for the password.

Follow Me: