flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
A year and a month ago, I wrote this.
Never say I don’t keep at least a few of my promises.
And the truth is? I felt pretty decent wearing it — scared and self-conscious like crazy, but also, in my tiny secret heart of hearts, underneath the hyperventilating, sort of kick ass. The problem is later, looking at the pictures, because no matter how much I tell myself I’m embracing my body and being proud of who I am, I can’t stop being upset about my belly and my thighs and on and on. It’s not as easy as deciding to love yourself, and I know, you all knew that already, but it bears repeating, I think. There will likely be more pics coming eventually, and I will cringe at those too, and I will post them anyway, and maybe, eventually, I’ll learn to see what my friends see, which is apparently not what I see. (Also, I’ll learn to do victory rolls and have infinitely better hair.)
I guess what I’m saying is that I’m a work in progress. I’ll be wearing it again (with improvements, as always) to Comicpalooza, and possibly to other events before then if something comes up. Maybe by then I’ll be able to feel the Wonder.
I need to listen to this now.