…when you feel like you’re absolutely worth nothing, and what little worth you have must be measured in the width of your ass.
You know what the tragedy is? I like the way I look. I really do. I think I’m strong and attractive and have moments of incredible sexiness. I think I’m smart and funny and fun and I love making people laugh. During the health and wellness session at work today, I thought about how bizarre it was that I can lift more weight and have better endurance than a lot of other women of any age. I like being fit and strong and powerful; I like being big and intimidating. I like being able to hit things and have them fall over. I like being tough.
And it’s frustrating, you know, to realize that that freaks some people out. It’s not even that it doesn’t do it for them, it’s just that they feel like it shouldn’t, so they freak out, and I go on being tough and kicking ass and they run off looking for salvation and companionship in a more socially acceptable package. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind. It’s just sort of dumb. It doesn’t make sense unless you’re looking to live the life you think other people think you want. And I turned off that road ten years ago. That was a miserable fucking road.
The issue now is that I’ve gotten used to a bed partner and an extra toothbrush, and it was a silly, silly thing for me to get used to. I need to be smarter than that. Silly pirate.
Getting my own place next year will help a little more with that. Being smart in other areas of my life will help me be smarter in my personal life.
I need to remember that the only person who decides my worth is me.
I threw out the toothbrush.
It was a sorry waste of a toothbrush.