What I See

I'm fairly certain that I mentioned this in my old blog, but I want to go into more detail with it here.

Everyone is their own worst critic when they look in the mirror.  They see their flaws, and everything they wish they could change.

Then there are people like me.

The ones who when they look in the mirror, their mind actually distorts what they see, or processes it differently or whatever the fuck that happens.  And they find themselves hideous.

I've got body dysmorphia.  Hardcore.  Every day is an argument in my head for me to not hide under a pile of blankets, covered in giant sweaters, and never let someone look at me.

But that's not exactly the healthiest way to live.
And I try not to let anything in my brainbox keep me from living the way I truly want to.

So I still get out of the house, and I talk to people, and I live without it stopping me from most things.

It takes a lot.

And I know I must be attractive.  I have friends who tell me so, and get random messages often enough online, and people still want to fuck me.

Then I stand in front of the mirror, and I hate it.

I try to help it with clothes that fit me well.
Then I remember how difficult a figure I have.  With being short, having a short torso, a high waist, big rib cage, small breasts, and an extreme waist to hip ratio, I am difficult to clothe to say the least.  And that just makes me feel like a freak show.

And then I see video of me dancing, and I see my stretch marks, and extra skin.  I know I can cover myself up, but I always find the dancers that do tend to stick out more, and that'll just make me feel worse.

When I'm out and dressed up, I try to not freak out by putting down others in the back of my head.
"She looks so frumpy"
"That so doesn't fit her"
"She looks like Skeletor"
"I'm pretty sure I have a nicer ass than she does"

I never say it out loud, but it keeps me calm, and sometimes I can fake the physical confidence enough.

Then sometimes, I'm out at a faire, or a LARP, and I start dancing.
And damnit, I know how to shake my ass.
And it clears my head.
And I just don't care about how I look.

That's when people stare, and at first I think they're tearing me down, but then I notice they're checking me out.  They make comments about how good I look dancing, and it starts to make it all go away.  I walk over to the person I'm with, and if it's a guy, they're all over me.  Showing off how proud they are to belong to me, while everyone else is apparently struck with lust.

And I never believe it.  I should, I know I should.
But for those moments while I'm dancing, I don't hear that voice saying all those bad things.  I don't wonder if the men in my life are embarrassed to be around me due to how I look.

It's so liberating from everything.

Sometimes, all you need to do is dance.
Maybe someday it'll leak out to kill the voices the rest of the time.