I Am My Worth

5'8 feet, 135lbs., 15% body fat, curvy, no scars or physical ailments and a face that many people didn't take damage from (or at least only one person ever admitted to me having a horrible smile).  You would think a girl would be happy with her looks.  It goes to prove that your physical body screaming "hey I'm every bit as thin as a Vogue model and I've got my health" doesn't mean you feel it.

Even with the mirror proving that I was every bit as beautiful as I'd ever be, I didn't believe it.  I'd see a face that was an alien.  I mean literally, I thought my face was, well, freakish.  Huge eyes, long horse face and a chin that narrowed down to a point so sharp you could cut diamonds with.  No other girls I'd seen had hips like mine.  Girls thighs were just as flat as guys and mine are "well defined".  So I accepted what I had, which in itself was a sort of confidence that guys like, and never found myself for want.

Accepting and loving are two very different things and until it was ten years after my senior picture I really saw things differently.  I was in my dad's office (then it was McKibben Communications) and I turned around and came face to face with the eighteen year old me.  My senior picture brought me this epiphany that I shall not soon forget.  There I was, younger, more adorable, even thinner and smiling.  Who is she?  I thought.  Oh.  That was me. 

Now some of you don't ever change from high school and I'd say I hadn't drastically changed but changed enough to remember how the younger me felt like an adopted alien.  Honestly I still felt like an adopted alien ten years later.  But that picture made me think to myself, "And I thought I was ugly."  Side by side to my best friend Nicole, I was a gunny sack wearing, buck toothed, straw-haired, dull eyed red-headed step-child.  She was the glamourous one everybody wanted, I was "Stephanie? Ick." 

Some women go through life thinking they are the red-headed step-child but when I came face to face with the eighteen year old me at twenty eight I had a resolve that would not wear off.  I will stop wishing my body had thinner thighs or flatter stomach because what I have today is going to be a hell of a lot better than ten years from now.  "I am beutiful", I said outloud.  Not was, not will be, right now.

Whenever the epiphany fades I look in the mirror and command myself to say, "You are beautiful" until it converts to "I am beautiful".  That saying of "if people say it enough times you'll believe it" works if you say it too.  I had to repeat the words until I believed it with conviction. 

Pity for oneself is demeaning.  I've not relayed this story for confirmation or compliment.  It was simply the truth of how I felt.  I do not feel that way anymore.  This story is for that twenty-eight year old that looks in the mirror and felt the way I did.  This story is for my niece who doesn't have the confidence yet to realize she could match up to Angelina Jolie.  It's for my brother who might think he's some ordinary looking guy and my mom who might think her laugh lines make her "look old".  It's for my friends who think the grey in their hair signifies anything other than a change of color pigment.  If you don't see what I see then you need to look in the mirror and say it with me outloud...

I Am My Worth because I feel it.

Do All M&M's Taste The Same?

Today was a day my senses were visceral and acute.  Colors were near painful bliss.  Air sought to play a cold/hot game with every nerve ending from fingers to heels.  My brain soaked-in every receptacle of information from the outside world and I was clear minded enough to perceive what was around me. 

Today was a day I could say I lived in the now.  On these days I like to play sensory games.  One of them is closing my eyes, popping one M&M into my mouth and guessing the color of the dye.  Some dyes are more prominent than others and sometimes the dye is weak but mostly, on days like this, I guess correct. 

Taking the time to live, to be in the moment isn't always difficult to do.  When fog of the future or inner conflict deprives me of being absolutely alert of the beauty around, I pick my favorite sensory game and come back to the now.  Here and now is where you are at not the past and not the future.  Take the here and now to discover if colors all taste the same.

BEWARE -- Extra Special Language (as in don't click if you are easily offeneded)

Crab Walk


I was given this gem and told -- for your blog.  Word of warning -- If you click on the "Crab Walk" link it has bad words in it.  Go ahead, click it -- the rest of my entry will make sense. 

So now that you've seen it (or clicked somewhere else) here's my reaction:

Um, okay. 

Because this person knows me quiet well I'm thinking, "Is this how I am?" 

Yes.  Yes it is.  So with all due respect to sensitive eyes I just had to give this link a nod and roll with the punches it may bring because in essence...

How Not To Write A Blog

What I return to after a vacation.

First rule of thumb -- Be Consistent. 
The term, "rule of thumb" is short for don't beat your wife with a stick larger than the width of your thumb.  In my case my muse has a 2X2 HomeDepot special and is slamming it down across my brain.  Not that I'm my muses bitch or anything. 

Second -- Content should be an issue people care about. 
Fairly simple.  You like horses, write about horses.  Better yet, write about a problem you have with a horse and how you solved that problem.  Opinions are chocolate covered stuffed oreos; some people love them with milk but all in all it's calories meant to bloat your already accumulated fat. 

Third thing -- Interact.
Everyone loves positive feedback.  Write back to people who've posted.  Write to people on other blogs you like.  I've been known to follow someone's blog because I like what they said.  Positive notes are better.  Negativeness gets no response and that's just my policy. 

These are the things I've learned from my studies such as they are.  Thank goodness my blog is a journal and I can write whatever I want when I want.  I've been thinking of pairing down the entries at two or three times a week simply because of burn-out factor trying to please an audience.  But, this is a journal!  Not a blog, or is it?

Mwahhh. 

Vacation Day: 1 - 4

Though I left at the end of the work week, Friday didn't count.  Friday I took a red-eye and got to Washington Saturday morning.  A bleary-eyed papa picked me up and within a few hours, were on our way. 

We were the last to arrive at my cousins beautiful home.  Lee, Franny and David were exactly the same as I remember.  But my two cousin's children were strangers.  They'd grown up.  They were not the two crawling all over my (at the time) boyfriend Josh.  The days of catching sand crabs on the beach with two knee-high to a grape-fruit wonderful children were gone.  Yet, I was able to see in minutes they were my family even if I hadn't seen them in seven years. 

We spent the rest of the three days together and it was awesome.  We played games, jumped on trampolines, cooked our meals and cleaned up together.  The TV was not turned on with the exception of watching Shrek for Slater and Diesel my brother's two twins full of life and mischief.  It was great to see Rett relax and be with us all.  He's always wonderful eye-candy. 

Lee, Franny and Momma listened to my perceptions of the world and I theirs.  Daddy took photos so we could remember this always.  David & Franny were the ever hard working hosts that thought of everything.

I have such a wonderful family!