Protected: Chocolate Legs

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Celebration

“Celebrate good times c’mon, it’s a celebration! We’re gonna have a good time tonight, let’s celebrate, alright. Let’s celebrate it’s alright.” Kool & the Gang

I’m a very lucky girl. I know some of the most intelligent women on the planet! Even more I am able to call these girls friends and thus revel in their accomplishments. Yesterday my Ace graduated from Temple Law School.  Even from undergrad at Georgetown, I knew she was exceptional. She has such an ability to focus her life to achieve her goals.

It’s weird to know that I was there in the beginning, during the grueling LSAT study sessions; the time-consuming application process; the campus visit with the ever-convincing speech… to now see the woman of excellence standing before me, LMH, J.D.

With diploma in hand she stands tall, her confidence a heavy ambiance replacing the timidity of yester-years. And I’m so proud! How could you not be? The accomplishment pales in comparison to the inner development that she wears over the graduation cloak. Her parents, siblings, LovaBunny preening with pride and success. “Look at our girl!”, their smiles scream with excitement.

My Tre is next… walking that long aisle! The next time theres an aisle or a very long commencement, it better involve church bells!

So Long Philly, we barely knew ye!

Ragged Company

“Oh Lord, can you see my thick skin wearing thin? And the demons of a lesser me are beckoning me in? Those who gathered ‘roud me I’m watching them all leave. ‘Cause I am my own ragged company. ‘Cause every town’s got a mirror And every mirror still shows me That I am my own ragged company. I am my own ragged company.” Grace Potter & The Nocturnals

Ragged: Rough, imperfect, faulty. Company: Companionship, association, fellowship, assembly, crowd.

I have a tendency to aggressively yank people toward me… to lean on them with a dependency that is at once frightening and at last overpowering. I physically beat you down with my emotions, with my faults hoping that the image I see in your pupils reflects the wasteland that I see in the mirror.

And then the comparison starts. I look at the other and wonder what mistakes were made with me. Why can’t I be beautiful? Why can’t I at least be attractive? Can I have at least one complimentary physical feature?

Without those moments of insecure musings, I’m fine. Today marks the day that I’ve lost 22 pounds. That’s a small child in most countries… or the approximate (false) weight of my cat…

I’m 1/3 closer to my goals  which definitely makes me feel better, but I’m wondering if this time will be different? Will I again gain back everything I lost and have to restart with the challenge to Be Great?

I’m trying to pinpoint the specific source of my self-doubt. I saw this picture mentioned on FB from one of the people I follow on twitter which discusses loving your body at any size.

The idea that we are the composition of our thoughts, that our self reflections are in direct correlation to how we treat ourselves… makes me ask “where is the love?”.  When did it become normal to dislike the (wo)man in the mirror?

There are a lot of things that I would like to change— immediately, but am I not patient enough to see the fruits of my labor?

I suppose I have no answers today or even a full post of coherent thought as logic slowly seeps for a deliriously tired brain. There is no turning back, but I hope that I gather more self-acceptance.

Previous Older Entries