Monday, April 27, 2015

Naked, Afraid, Ashamed, and Proud

Written and first published on 

This post has been a long time coming.  While I'm outwardly gregarious, flirty, cute, self-centered, narcissistic, arrogant, big-headed, and even stuck-up at times; on the inside I'm a whole different person.  I'm nervous, shaky, anxious, afraid, self deprecating, and enjoy a self-esteem so low that sometimes I can't even leave the house.

I debated about writing this post because it is completely personal and I will bare a smidge of the inner me. I'm doing it anyway. To quote the infamous scene from Risky Business when Miles told Joel - "Sometimes you gotta say 'What the Fuck', make your move. Joel, every now and then, saying 'What the Fuck' brings freedom. Freedom brings opportunity, opportunity makes your future".   I'm dating myself with that reference but it's totally relevant in this instance.

The reasons I'm writing this post now are many.  I'm getting ready to embark on a new adventure with a new person in my life (yes, you can cat-call or whatever you do) after a fairly long dry spell.  I had an opportunity to write a piece for someone whom I admire the most-est.  I also need to get this out.  For me.  For you. For my daughter.  I want her to read this one day and know that life is about more than one's perceived shortcomings. Also, for all the people who feel the same way I do.  I know that you're out there.  I hope that you're out there anyway or else I'll just be hanging out all by myself. I guess that's okay too.

If you follow my page and/or blog you are aware that I am overweight and that I joke about it often. I am not ashamed.  Being overweight is a small part of who I am.  I am beautiful, I dress well, I'm healthy, I'm active, I'm intelligent, I have a fantastic personality, I'm sarcastic, I'm loyal, I'm pretty damn humorous, I'm a mom (a fairly decent one), and I genuinely like me.  That being said...

I completely flip the frack out when I'm naked.  I'm naked a lot.  I hate pants.  And bras.  And clothes in general.  I'm good with being naked because I'm alone most of the time.  Yes I manage to don clothes when other people are in my presence, because, ewwww.   It's when I study the nakedness.  When I actually look. You know, in the mirror.  The fat-shaming, tell-all, find-all-the-flaws, mirror.  I'm doing this often now because of the anxiety of a new person seeing this naked mess that is me.

I have pale, sensitive skin.  Because of this I have scars, bruises, bumps, scrapes, and other bizarre markings of the pale and sensitive.  I have actually tried to cover that shit with make-up, scar covering, and even facial toner to remove bumps. (Don't lie and say you haven't thought or even done this - please).  My skin gets dry and scaly and the twice daily coating of my skin with lotion is a blast, especially when I'm in a hurry. (always)  If I'm lazy and happen to skip this step, I can head over the school and let the kids use their nails on my body like a human chalkboard.  Good times.

I have huge, veiny boobs that have to be physically lifted so that they don't appear to be ears for my belly button.  The nips are good if I don't say so myself.  The actual boobage isn't so bad except; I'm 44, they're real, and they are heavy as hell.  Picture it.  Sexay.  If I could wear a bra comfortably during sex, I would.  I think they are the part of my body that I'm most self conscious about. Doing that whole on top position is a hell no.  Unless of course there's alcohol involved and well that's a whole separate blog post. They look great in clothes.  Naked?  Not so much. At least not to me.


That hot, molten, gash between my legs that rules the world?  It's okay.  I won't be having labia reconstruction anytime soon.  I could totally do with all the hair.  I'm not waxing because in all honesty it isn't that important to me and it hurts.  A lot.  Yes, I keep it shaved up and tidy however, remember the sensitive skin issue from above?  It causes a lot of issues in the very sensitive folds of my lady bits.  My dream is to be hairless from the neck down.  Hair is unsanitary (again, a whole separate blog post) and altogether yucky.  Getting older also causes the random, cool, and attractive,  3 inch long pube.  No, I'm not joking.   However, unless the laser hair removal fairy comes I'll be shaving.  Shaving makes me itch, causes bumps, makes me feel totally grossed out and completely overwhelmed at the idea of maintaining it.  Like I have nothing better to do than spend 30 minutes several times a week grooming my junk?  Sorry.  I'm busy.  It gets done when I have time.  Honestly, I'm not a fan of the bald, 10 year old girl look anyway.  Not sexy.  At all.
I'm not even going to bother discussing the dimples on my outer thighs, the flab on my inner thighs, the roll just above my waist, the post baby stretch marks, the surgery scars, the gain weight-lose weight stretch marks (those are different than the post baby stretch marks) and my saggy, wrinkly, fat ass.  I guess I did kind of just discuss them, right?  I'm smart enough to know that most women, fat or thin, have these issues.  That's just something to suck up and deal with.  I'm 44, I've earned that shit. Yes, I'm aware that I could exercise and handle some of these issues, however, this post is about accepting me as me.  How I am.  Now.

I have many male friends who have explained to me that no man is interested in any of the above issues, and I've read numerous articles that reitorate that thought.  In reality most of the time during sexual activity, I'm not worried (except for that floppy boob thing) about any of that stuff  It's the other times.  The naked teeth brushing, walking around, getting dressed.  That stuff.  The ugly naked stuff.  The regular every day stuff in the daylight when my body is subject to extreme scrutiny.  I guess this is where that whole love thing is supposed to take over.  Total acceptance and such.  I know it happens.  I've actually experienced it.  Doesn't make it any easier.

In this day in age there are so many great role models who are continually shaping, and reinventing what is perceived to beautiful.  There also many websites and bloggers who maintain a judgment free zone, including this one.  I’m thankful every day for these people.

I have been dealing with the naked demons daily lately and most of the time I win.  I will continue to be proud and grow and every day.

Here's to you beating yours.  Stand proud and fight.


 PPB aka The Precious Princess - The Princess is a twice divorced, recently dumped, recently unemployed, self-proclaimed member of the mentally hilarious. She has been referred to as living under a rock stocked with vodka and anger. Her 12 year old “Mini”, who is carbon copy of the Princess, is often the subject of blogs, and Facebook posts. In addition, she writes about dating, the dumbness of boys, life after 40, and shares stories from Bananaland which is both her past and current residence.  She is the owner/sole admin for the Facebook page Precious Princess's Guide to Bananaland where she is famous for her rants and her blunt, honest, and sarcastic look at life.  She blogs both extremely funny and all-the-feels posts at Princess Bananaland.  She hates people, kids, and karaoke. She uses all the swears and makes up dirty words.  Eventually when she’s done being sloth-like, she will write a book.  Be afraid. 


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