When one of the last guys with camera I worked with told me that in editing the photos he'd done he'd taken the liberty of softening the areas where my stretch marks were I was almost horrified, but not for the reason(s) one might think.
It surprised even me: I was almost horrified because the immediate reaction to my stretch marks on his (and likely most folks') part was to hide them. I found that I didn't really want that, but did not end up protesting the action.
It may have to do with the fact that I have only recently acquired these, perhaps even grown used to them by now.
I never dreamed I could gain weight, let alone have stretch marks.
Before I moved to Seattle I was ~three sizes smaller, unhealthy in fact, and not eating very well at all. Several years prior in high school I was quite honestly malnourished, anorexic. I hid myself in the baggiest clothes imaginable.
These days I have a wee bit of a tummy. It happened gradually, as my availability and quality of food improved in my coming up northwest.
Some days I'm not sure how to feel about that. I rummage through my clothing, frustrated, late for something, exhausted. Most of my clothes are made with tinier, flatter girls in mind, so parts of me give garments rounded shapes.
I can work it, though. I do. I watch so many others around me become positively radiant in the ways they carry themselves -- people I don't know, people I do. It gives me something to look forward to. It makes me smile.
With this, some other things must change, unfortunately.
A good number of the people I'd like to shoot with have size requirements; a woman in Portland can't (or won't) shoot any females over size 6, and I don't think I'll ever be that again. I still continue to admire her work.
I have to usually make a point of asking photographers if they have limits to save us both the hassle of having to cancel appointments later.
I have realised that around the double digit dress size is usually when cute clothes become harder to find and more expensive, and when demand wanes.
I'm past the point of being broken up about it. Luckily I've encountered some who are willing to take me on, and even one who insisted he wanted to work with me as I am. It's for the chance to have more of those cases that keep me pressing on.
When things seem really awful and I discover that I've yet to shake the 'skinny is the only shape that is worthwhile and appealing' mindset, I remember precious moments of being silly with my friend Jamie. We grab our bellies, move them about, and have a good laugh.
The growth represents to me a graduation of sorts, from a lack of regard for myself to living a rich, more fulfilled life. I welcome it.
Beauty is encompassed in a number of diverse houses, and we should spend more time celebrating that instead of building a box round a few prim blocks.
27 March 2011
28 February 2011
out of the dark
To say 'it's not easy letting one person into your life' is quite the understatement. Truly.
For many, it's impossible to let in more than one - a deal breaker, unspeakable, morally wrong, joked about. On the same token, I've read articles from seemingly militant polyamorous folks who feel that monogamy is 'stupid'. (Dan Savage, Monogamy vs Commitment)
It's a sensitive subject.
I'll count myself fortunate that the friends who've asked about my experiences with multiple partners (and are monogamous) have done so gently and respectfully. I try to answer every question as best as I can, and return that respect.
We humans are notoriously curious, after all; as long as there's no malice behind the curiosity, what's the harm in supplying the knowledge?
I cannot and will not in any way claim to be an expert on the matter, though.
Whether you're monogamous or not, spending time with each lover is different. Each connection yields a multitude of feelings and lessons. Venturing into one relationship or more blindly is not recommended. (I can tell you that frankly, having unfortunately done so myself. Do yourself a favor - don't learn this the hard way, please! Study up. Ask questions.)
My last break-up was a rather nasty one. That can't be denied. Our modes of communication were not working well together and there was stress frequently, which began to affect me elsewhere. With that in mind, I took it upon myself to go slowly next time, at the pace I wanted to go, or one that was at least in sync with others in the relationship.
'Next time' came sooner than I expected. I met Shiny Girl briefly at a casual local women's poly and kink friendly event chatted me up online, which turned into meetings over meals, then watching feel-good movies snuggled up in private. Conversation laced with the occasional smile and nervous tripping over words ensued; generally a good time.
To be honest, I was all ready to distance the interaction at a friendship, but her efforts gave impetus to a deeper-than-surface bond. The more I talked to her, the more I wanted to know.
Shiny Girl's teaching me what it's like to be selfless without being entirely aware of it, which is just wonderful. She's also opening me up without pushing too hard, something I needed in another love interest. It has been nearly three years since my last serious girlfriend...
What's more is that my Anchor (whom I've been with for about 2 years now) gets on well with her, something that didn't have the chance to blossom with my ex. I feel a wave of relief come over me when I discuss Shiny Girl with him, and I don't have to remind him who she is. We've all met, spent time together, conversed online. I hope that we can do more of it soon.
No one is in a rush to achieve any ultimate goal. We can just go forward at a leisurely gait.
It's very early and I dare not press on this for fear of jinxing it, but I am very, very happy.
No, it's not easy. Hardly any of the best things are, but they're worth fighting for/working on if you think they are. It helps if you're not the only one in a party feeling that way.
For many, it's impossible to let in more than one - a deal breaker, unspeakable, morally wrong, joked about. On the same token, I've read articles from seemingly militant polyamorous folks who feel that monogamy is 'stupid'. (Dan Savage, Monogamy vs Commitment)
It's a sensitive subject.
I'll count myself fortunate that the friends who've asked about my experiences with multiple partners (and are monogamous) have done so gently and respectfully. I try to answer every question as best as I can, and return that respect.
We humans are notoriously curious, after all; as long as there's no malice behind the curiosity, what's the harm in supplying the knowledge?
I cannot and will not in any way claim to be an expert on the matter, though.
Whether you're monogamous or not, spending time with each lover is different. Each connection yields a multitude of feelings and lessons. Venturing into one relationship or more blindly is not recommended. (I can tell you that frankly, having unfortunately done so myself. Do yourself a favor - don't learn this the hard way, please! Study up. Ask questions.)
My last break-up was a rather nasty one. That can't be denied. Our modes of communication were not working well together and there was stress frequently, which began to affect me elsewhere. With that in mind, I took it upon myself to go slowly next time, at the pace I wanted to go, or one that was at least in sync with others in the relationship.
'Next time' came sooner than I expected. I met Shiny Girl briefly at a casual local women's poly and kink friendly event chatted me up online, which turned into meetings over meals, then watching feel-good movies snuggled up in private. Conversation laced with the occasional smile and nervous tripping over words ensued; generally a good time.
To be honest, I was all ready to distance the interaction at a friendship, but her efforts gave impetus to a deeper-than-surface bond. The more I talked to her, the more I wanted to know.
Shiny Girl's teaching me what it's like to be selfless without being entirely aware of it, which is just wonderful. She's also opening me up without pushing too hard, something I needed in another love interest. It has been nearly three years since my last serious girlfriend...
What's more is that my Anchor (whom I've been with for about 2 years now) gets on well with her, something that didn't have the chance to blossom with my ex. I feel a wave of relief come over me when I discuss Shiny Girl with him, and I don't have to remind him who she is. We've all met, spent time together, conversed online. I hope that we can do more of it soon.
No one is in a rush to achieve any ultimate goal. We can just go forward at a leisurely gait.
It's very early and I dare not press on this for fear of jinxing it, but I am very, very happy.
No, it's not easy. Hardly any of the best things are, but they're worth fighting for/working on if you think they are. It helps if you're not the only one in a party feeling that way.
11 February 2011
know where your towel is. know when to throw it.
I've never been very good at hiding my feelings. They've developed a nasty habit of bleeding into the expressions on my face and into the words I say, as well as the behaviour I display. This has gone on ever since I can recall.
Sometimes I fool myself into thinking I'm a great pretender. It helps to get knocked down a peg or two by people that see otherwise.
It has been brought to my attention that when I get presented with bad news, I often shut down. I've become comfortable with the idea of going off alone for an undetermined amount of time to think about the steps that led to the bad news, and how to deal with it better should it happen again. I don't want to burden other people with my problems.
I am slowly coming to the realisation that I need to change the way I process. I need to understand that the people around me DO care, and that I should share what I'm feeling with them because they want to be there for me when I need them. So far friends of mine and loved ones alike have taken time out of their busy lives to offer advice and console me where necessary.
(Thank you. I really appreciate your efforts and you've helped immensely. You know who you are.)
The way I've been dealing with stress has been much the same. I failed to see the destruction my methods were doing. When I'm having it rough, it affects my everyday life, including my interaction with others.
My paramour has been asked by mutual acquaintances of ours, "Is Brandy okay?" or "Did I do something to upset Brandy?"
Now, this isn't very fair, is it? Actions I imagined to be harmless to others having the converse effect. To me that reads "CHANGE THIS. NOW." Urgent stamping and all.
Change doesn't come easy for me. What good or mandatory thing ever does? It's part of being an adult. Hopefully sorting this out will allow me to put some positive energy into the people I care about in turn, so that they know I can be there for them too. One day at a time.
Onward and forward we go.
Sometimes I fool myself into thinking I'm a great pretender. It helps to get knocked down a peg or two by people that see otherwise.
It has been brought to my attention that when I get presented with bad news, I often shut down. I've become comfortable with the idea of going off alone for an undetermined amount of time to think about the steps that led to the bad news, and how to deal with it better should it happen again. I don't want to burden other people with my problems.
I am slowly coming to the realisation that I need to change the way I process. I need to understand that the people around me DO care, and that I should share what I'm feeling with them because they want to be there for me when I need them. So far friends of mine and loved ones alike have taken time out of their busy lives to offer advice and console me where necessary.
(Thank you. I really appreciate your efforts and you've helped immensely. You know who you are.)
The way I've been dealing with stress has been much the same. I failed to see the destruction my methods were doing. When I'm having it rough, it affects my everyday life, including my interaction with others.
My paramour has been asked by mutual acquaintances of ours, "Is Brandy okay?" or "Did I do something to upset Brandy?"
Now, this isn't very fair, is it? Actions I imagined to be harmless to others having the converse effect. To me that reads "CHANGE THIS. NOW." Urgent stamping and all.
Change doesn't come easy for me. What good or mandatory thing ever does? It's part of being an adult. Hopefully sorting this out will allow me to put some positive energy into the people I care about in turn, so that they know I can be there for them too. One day at a time.
Onward and forward we go.
03 February 2011
rekindling old flames & the grateful train
I would call myself a hopeful romantic. It's easy for me to see the positives of a pairing possibility.
I walk into new ventures with plenty of smiles and my head held high. I listen, ask questions frequently, and am enthusiastic.
I can say with no ego that my tenacity is astounding when I apply it; I like the chase and I'm good at seeing an end to it when I've decided I want to commit to something more.
The surges of energy are my favourite part. Goodness knows that my last long-term (long-distance) relationship had no shortage of 'em. The mind and body are more likely to go into overdrive after long periods of pleasure denial and short periods of desire fulfillment.
While the aforementioned's cheery and all that, the not-so-great aspects beg mentioning as well.
1. I have a habit of leaping before I look. I'm the sort that enjoys having her head in the clouds, but typically the result of that is learning the repercussions of such the hard way.
2. I often find myself doing things I don't want to do. Instead of attempting to strike up some sort of compromise that might include benefits for each person involved, I have a habit of letting others get their way because I believe I'll ruin everything if I don't. It's irrational, this fear, and I've already modified my behaviour to put this issue to rest (after lots of practice).
3. I overextend myself. The three all tie in, you see. New prospects are fairly exciting, and it's not uncommon to throw myself into the fray without considering that I may need some 'me' time. This may be the most common trait I share with others involved in similar romantic situations. It also may be the most difficult to rectify, as it comes into play elsewhere.
About 80% of this goes out the window if the romantic venture is a reconnection. The events leading up to the severing of ties previous is usually at the forefront of my mind. Paranoia. Second guessing.
It is likely that a rekindling will not see much success because of all of the things it has going against it, namely its history. Even if you get past that, there may be unexpected bumps in the road that are ill-handled. The damage can be irreparable. Fingers get pointed.
In times of frustration, anger or general pain, the first instinct fallacy (paraphrasing: 'your first instincts are your most correct') can easily come into play. For me, telling myself 'it's not my fault' is a coping mechanism to deal with the aftereffects of a break-up. Blaming others for the downfall of a relationship isn't necessarily the best idea. There needs to be some analysis, support from friends and/or family, and a period of mourning.
One behaviour change begets another. In changing Not-So-Great Aspect no. 2, I didn't realize that other changes would be affected.
Mourning does not seem to be as important as it used to be; it expends tons of energy needed to do daily life tasks and enjoy people and activities. It is not altogether useless, especially if the history is long and intense, but there needs to be a cull at some point.
My experiences reconnecting with people on a romantic front has taught me a great deal, though I am no longer so keen on dating anyone from my past.
The best I can do is try to keep some kind of platonic, warm tie alive with folks I've known very personally and intimately -- this is not always an available option, mind you. The best I can be is open about my shortcomings in the hopes that I can eventually sort them out. Sometimes only another person can reveal what these shortcomings are.
A close friend of mine recently said, "The day I stop learning, I die." I'm inclined to agree with her.
I walk into new ventures with plenty of smiles and my head held high. I listen, ask questions frequently, and am enthusiastic.
I can say with no ego that my tenacity is astounding when I apply it; I like the chase and I'm good at seeing an end to it when I've decided I want to commit to something more.
The surges of energy are my favourite part. Goodness knows that my last long-term (long-distance) relationship had no shortage of 'em. The mind and body are more likely to go into overdrive after long periods of pleasure denial and short periods of desire fulfillment.
While the aforementioned's cheery and all that, the not-so-great aspects beg mentioning as well.
1. I have a habit of leaping before I look. I'm the sort that enjoys having her head in the clouds, but typically the result of that is learning the repercussions of such the hard way.
2. I often find myself doing things I don't want to do. Instead of attempting to strike up some sort of compromise that might include benefits for each person involved, I have a habit of letting others get their way because I believe I'll ruin everything if I don't. It's irrational, this fear, and I've already modified my behaviour to put this issue to rest (after lots of practice).
3. I overextend myself. The three all tie in, you see. New prospects are fairly exciting, and it's not uncommon to throw myself into the fray without considering that I may need some 'me' time. This may be the most common trait I share with others involved in similar romantic situations. It also may be the most difficult to rectify, as it comes into play elsewhere.
About 80% of this goes out the window if the romantic venture is a reconnection. The events leading up to the severing of ties previous is usually at the forefront of my mind. Paranoia. Second guessing.
It is likely that a rekindling will not see much success because of all of the things it has going against it, namely its history. Even if you get past that, there may be unexpected bumps in the road that are ill-handled. The damage can be irreparable. Fingers get pointed.
In times of frustration, anger or general pain, the first instinct fallacy (paraphrasing: 'your first instincts are your most correct') can easily come into play. For me, telling myself 'it's not my fault' is a coping mechanism to deal with the aftereffects of a break-up. Blaming others for the downfall of a relationship isn't necessarily the best idea. There needs to be some analysis, support from friends and/or family, and a period of mourning.
One behaviour change begets another. In changing Not-So-Great Aspect no. 2, I didn't realize that other changes would be affected.
Mourning does not seem to be as important as it used to be; it expends tons of energy needed to do daily life tasks and enjoy people and activities. It is not altogether useless, especially if the history is long and intense, but there needs to be a cull at some point.
My experiences reconnecting with people on a romantic front has taught me a great deal, though I am no longer so keen on dating anyone from my past.
The best I can do is try to keep some kind of platonic, warm tie alive with folks I've known very personally and intimately -- this is not always an available option, mind you. The best I can be is open about my shortcomings in the hopes that I can eventually sort them out. Sometimes only another person can reveal what these shortcomings are.
A close friend of mine recently said, "The day I stop learning, I die." I'm inclined to agree with her.
23 January 2011
keep in touch: black hair, representation & question marks
I've been dabbling in different hairstyles and colours ever since I felt I could safely get away with it. For me, the start of the experimentation began several years ago, long after I'd moved away from living with parental figures in the 'burbs, and during college studies in a big city. I also happened to work in an environment that allowed for me to explore various hair dyes and lengths without being fearful of losing my position.
As I am living out the last few years of my twenties, I decided to go in a new direction - that of natural promotion of hair growth, and no more breaking down of hair via chemical straighteners such as relaxers. (I am undecided on hair straightening combs.)
Early last fall, I hacked off most of the hair I'd dyed purple previously and since then have been developing a small afro. I shop around for different conditioners suited to curly hair, various earthy balms and oils to massage into my scalp, etc. Only recently have I decided to share my progress in picture form on some of the more known social networking sites. It yielded a rather interesting message from someone dear to me in the past:
My initial reaction was to smile about it and say thank you. Days later I still feel as though that was the proper action to take, while also admitting that there were some elements of me that I was hiding within the jars of Manic Panic/squeeze bottles of Special Effects dye.
To be honest, it's difficult for me to attempt to represent what my nationality seems outwardly because I don't truly know it. I've been so curious about it at times I made up stories to suit me, which understandably led to a bit of trouble.
I was adopted at age six. I've no clue about the people who contributed to my birth, nor the alleged siblings. Usually, tackling serious life constraints have taken precedent over finding out any of this information, but now that things seem to be ironing out again, perhaps I can trudge forward with at least obtaining papers on medical information.
Back on point to the note I received. I DO feel I am more in touch with who I am as a person. I am definitely less introverted, but I have a long way to go before anyone will call me outgoing.
I don't think I need funky hair colours to represent anything or get people to pay attention to me, but I still think of dyed hair as a lot of fun (and like most hair decisions, a pain in the arse to maintain)! Perhaps I'll return to it in a while; I don't pretend to know. I enjoy where I am now, and that's enough.
As I am living out the last few years of my twenties, I decided to go in a new direction - that of natural promotion of hair growth, and no more breaking down of hair via chemical straighteners such as relaxers. (I am undecided on hair straightening combs.)
Early last fall, I hacked off most of the hair I'd dyed purple previously and since then have been developing a small afro. I shop around for different conditioners suited to curly hair, various earthy balms and oils to massage into my scalp, etc. Only recently have I decided to share my progress in picture form on some of the more known social networking sites. It yielded a rather interesting message from someone dear to me in the past:
for much of the time I knew you (especially the earlier years) I always sorta had this feeling like you were somehow repressing/ignoring/whatever your race/ethnicity/heritage. I get the feeling these days that you're more in touch with yourself (and, for better or worse, that tends to be a part of it), and I'm happy for you for that.
My initial reaction was to smile about it and say thank you. Days later I still feel as though that was the proper action to take, while also admitting that there were some elements of me that I was hiding within the jars of Manic Panic/squeeze bottles of Special Effects dye.
To be honest, it's difficult for me to attempt to represent what my nationality seems outwardly because I don't truly know it. I've been so curious about it at times I made up stories to suit me, which understandably led to a bit of trouble.
I was adopted at age six. I've no clue about the people who contributed to my birth, nor the alleged siblings. Usually, tackling serious life constraints have taken precedent over finding out any of this information, but now that things seem to be ironing out again, perhaps I can trudge forward with at least obtaining papers on medical information.
Back on point to the note I received. I DO feel I am more in touch with who I am as a person. I am definitely less introverted, but I have a long way to go before anyone will call me outgoing.
I don't think I need funky hair colours to represent anything or get people to pay attention to me, but I still think of dyed hair as a lot of fun (and like most hair decisions, a pain in the arse to maintain)! Perhaps I'll return to it in a while; I don't pretend to know. I enjoy where I am now, and that's enough.
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