Although I'll try to keep my identity as anonymous as possible, there are a few things about me you can learn. I'm a female, and I'm considered 'full-figured'. Honestly? I'm pretty average in the realm of American women. I'm a size 18. If you go shopping, you'll find that sizes 12-18 are often the most purchased sizes. Whether this is good or bad is not for me to judge, it's just true.
However, I am often considered 'fat'. Whatever, call me what you want. I want to consider myself beautiful. It takes make reminders from my dear male friend for me to realize that I am beautiful, or even sexy, at times. And I feel terrible that I make him work so hard to get me feeling well. Today, while contemplating this part of our relationship, I realized that I was trained to feel this way about myself.
The world today wants size zeros. Honestly, I don't see it. I don't even like my MEN skinny!! Even buff-ness is a turn off for this Middle Class Blogger. Who wants to cuddle with a rock? No, I like a bit of stuffing when I'm laying with a man. To each their own though. However, I can't help but laugh at the people who say I should lose weight to be 'healthy'. Here's a fact, I AM healthy. I recently had a full panel of bloodwork done. Not only is my blood pressure consistently perfect, I also have fine sugar levels, Cholesterol, and all those other things that scientifically define 'healthy'.
But the world didn't teach me to have bad self-esteem. Sure, I was teased by kids in school as a child and I get some harsh looks from peers. I can even handle when a worker at a clothing store turns me away solely because of my size. However, the one thing I couldn't handle was the remarks from my family. My dad always thought I was fat and unattractive, and I knew it. He would portion control my meals, giving the 'skinnier' sisters more pasta and seconds, and keeping Ms. Fatty over here to meat only, no pasta, no bread. This only pushed me to a semi-eating disorder in 6th grade. Anorexia, what every girl wants for her twelfth birthday.
My mom didn't help matters. She wouldn't straight up say I was fat, but she was GREAT at hinting it. "You're really going to eat ALL that?!" (I love food and hate wasting, what can I say). "You don't have asthma, you're just out of shape" (Erm... yeah, that was wrong). But probably one of the most scarring situations in my life was when I was taking physical education in high school.
I was finally gaining confidence in who I was as a real person. I knew I wouldn't ever be a size 0, my hip bones are just too big, and I was trying to be happy with myself. I wore a nice jumpsuit-esque outfit for the first day. And some of the boys gave me a wolf whistle. What can I say, I have an hour-glass figure, it can just hold a few more hours! However, when I ran home to tell my mom about it after school, she rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you're confused, that COULDN'T have been directed at YOU." Wow... really? Why couldn't she just express her excitement for me and let me feel beautiful?
I'm comfortable with myself now. I do get bouts of depressed "I'm so fat, no one will ever want me" moments. But for the most part, I'm happy. When my 5 year old niece calls me fat, to my face, and her parents don't correct her and say it's rude, I can laugh it off. When people tell me to try using a treadmill, I can roll my eyes. And when people mention that the sight of me running causes nausea (hey, at least I'm trying), I can turn up the music on my iPod. I just feel it's a shame that I had to teach MYSELF that I'm beautiful, and that I have to be reminded. Self-esteem, good or negative, isn't natural, it's learned.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Move Over Snuggie!!
So I am a huge fan of sleeping with covers, so much so that I will turn the AC on high during the summer months so I can be cold enough to have the weight of the covers on me. During the winter, because I live in a basement in a frozen tundra here in Podunk, Nowhere, which means REALLY cold winters. Especially because there's only one thermostat in the house and that is located upstairs, in another apartment. So I end up wearing a sweatshirt at night to keep completely warm. But that is ummm... sorta beyond the point. What I get for posting late at night while watching The Office.
Anyway, I've lately noticed that even with my fan on, I am not completely satisfied with the temperature situation. Either my arms are freezing and my legs are burning up, or vice versa. It's not even a situation that can be solved with the simple just the sheet or just the top cover scenario (you know what I'm talking about, it's the reason our beds look so much worse in the summer after a night's sleep than in the winter). It's too warm for the sweatshirt I use during the winter, but too cold to go without anything. And no, I will NOT turn off my fan and just be happy without any blankets. I just can't sleep that way.
So, while I was trying to get comfortable last night, I realized perhaps the most amazing blanket invention ever. Better than the snuggie or the blobe (blanket robe) or any other fleece concoction that resembles a monk's outfit. Now I haven't come up with the name because, honestly, I hate naming things. I can write a 12-page essay in a day, but it will take me a week to come up with an adequate name.
Back to my amazing blanket idea. It's a layered blanket. You can peel off or back or over a layer to make the blanket lighter if you're too hot or join the layers back up to make it thicker if you're too cold. But, the layers will separate in the middle of the body. That way my upper half can be cooler than my lower house or vice versa. Genius, right?! It's like the coolio beds whose firmness you can change on either side depending on the person.
And no, I'm not patenting this idea. Why? Because I can't sew. I can't draw. Oh, and I'm kinda busy with that trying to graduate from college thing right now. So, I couldn't make a prototype. I couldn't design a prototype. I don't even have time to prototype. Maybe they could call it the Unknowingly Awesome Sheet Perfectly Priced for the Middle Class. Sorta name it after me, ya know?
So what do you think, would you use the UASPPftMC (for short, of course)? Oh, and you can follow me on twitter, FYI @MidclassUnknown
Anyway, I've lately noticed that even with my fan on, I am not completely satisfied with the temperature situation. Either my arms are freezing and my legs are burning up, or vice versa. It's not even a situation that can be solved with the simple just the sheet or just the top cover scenario (you know what I'm talking about, it's the reason our beds look so much worse in the summer after a night's sleep than in the winter). It's too warm for the sweatshirt I use during the winter, but too cold to go without anything. And no, I will NOT turn off my fan and just be happy without any blankets. I just can't sleep that way.
So, while I was trying to get comfortable last night, I realized perhaps the most amazing blanket invention ever. Better than the snuggie or the blobe (blanket robe) or any other fleece concoction that resembles a monk's outfit. Now I haven't come up with the name because, honestly, I hate naming things. I can write a 12-page essay in a day, but it will take me a week to come up with an adequate name.
Back to my amazing blanket idea. It's a layered blanket. You can peel off or back or over a layer to make the blanket lighter if you're too hot or join the layers back up to make it thicker if you're too cold. But, the layers will separate in the middle of the body. That way my upper half can be cooler than my lower house or vice versa. Genius, right?! It's like the coolio beds whose firmness you can change on either side depending on the person.
And no, I'm not patenting this idea. Why? Because I can't sew. I can't draw. Oh, and I'm kinda busy with that trying to graduate from college thing right now. So, I couldn't make a prototype. I couldn't design a prototype. I don't even have time to prototype. Maybe they could call it the Unknowingly Awesome Sheet Perfectly Priced for the Middle Class. Sorta name it after me, ya know?
So what do you think, would you use the UASPPftMC (for short, of course)? Oh, and you can follow me on twitter, FYI @MidclassUnknown
The Beginning
Every blog has to start somewhere, right? Well mine started about 30 minutes ago. I had just finished reading another exquisite John Grisham book and had turned off my bed light, rolling over with hopes of falling into a deep slumber, despite my current illness. As I closed my eyes, I began praying, a habit I had developed through years of being raised in a strict, God-fearing church. Now this may seem normal until you realize the fact that I had denounced this church only months ago, finally winning the seemingly endless inner battle with faith. As I prayed to a God who I am still unconvinced even exists, I neared the end of my list of thanks and wants. I began to end with a mental, silent 'Amen' when I began questioning the purpose of the 'Amen' itself.
If there is a God, I would hope he would be kind, forgiving, and like my best friend. If He wants us to talk to him, why would he request the formality of an Amen at the end? Is speaking with God so difficult that we have to end it with an 'Amen', liken to an 'Over' on a walkie-talkie conversation, so he knows we're done? What sort of omnipotent being is this?!
After a quick Google search, the evident definition of Amen is: Uttered at the end of a prayer or hymn, meaning ‘so be it.' Umm... REALLY?! OK so from MY childhood, I was told Amen was like an agreement, like yes, I agree with that prayer. So, in a congregational setting, it makes TONS of sense. In a personal setting, with no one in the room but my Russian Blue, Buddy (who, while vocal, I doubt would chime in on an 'Amen), is there really a purpose for this?
Obviously after this intense mental conversation with myself, I felt the need to ask others for their opinion. The only problem? My family doesn't really know I've left the church that they hold so dearly to their hearts, and I don't really see a purpose of causing worry in their lives and hearts by telling them. I can live my life without having to declare every decision I make... right? And so, I began thinking of my long-lost love of Blogging. I have blogged in the past, but with one fatal decision. I made my identity too well-known, so when I wanted to rant, rave, or talk shit, I was still restricted.
So welcome to The Life Lessons of the Middle-Class and Unknown. I'm a college student, working my last year of a Bachelor's Degree and applying to Grad Schools as we speak. I live in Podunk, a small town located in the middle of Nowhere, USA. Who I am doesn't matter. What I think does. Wish me luck.
If there is a God, I would hope he would be kind, forgiving, and like my best friend. If He wants us to talk to him, why would he request the formality of an Amen at the end? Is speaking with God so difficult that we have to end it with an 'Amen', liken to an 'Over' on a walkie-talkie conversation, so he knows we're done? What sort of omnipotent being is this?!
After a quick Google search, the evident definition of Amen is: Uttered at the end of a prayer or hymn, meaning ‘so be it.' Umm... REALLY?! OK so from MY childhood, I was told Amen was like an agreement, like yes, I agree with that prayer. So, in a congregational setting, it makes TONS of sense. In a personal setting, with no one in the room but my Russian Blue, Buddy (who, while vocal, I doubt would chime in on an 'Amen), is there really a purpose for this?
Obviously after this intense mental conversation with myself, I felt the need to ask others for their opinion. The only problem? My family doesn't really know I've left the church that they hold so dearly to their hearts, and I don't really see a purpose of causing worry in their lives and hearts by telling them. I can live my life without having to declare every decision I make... right? And so, I began thinking of my long-lost love of Blogging. I have blogged in the past, but with one fatal decision. I made my identity too well-known, so when I wanted to rant, rave, or talk shit, I was still restricted.
So welcome to The Life Lessons of the Middle-Class and Unknown. I'm a college student, working my last year of a Bachelor's Degree and applying to Grad Schools as we speak. I live in Podunk, a small town located in the middle of Nowhere, USA. Who I am doesn't matter. What I think does. Wish me luck.
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