Our culture confuses me. As women, we are taught that thinner is better. Even those "real girls (who) have curves" have strategically placed curves. Curves that are all-too specifically and properly indented and still somehow boyish or drug-induced or starved.
But in life, we find our most vulnerable moments when we are curled up in a ball. We expel our carefully conpiled, calorie counted energies to become something more rotund and something we, actually, fear.
We make like a ball.
And balls are round. They are bouyant. They come in many colors, shapes, and sizes- they are used metaphorically to show strength ("You've got balls, kid") or opportunity ("The ball is in your court").
In my head, life is a calendar: A mass of sticks and boxes that accumulate to schedule a day, a week, a month, a year (cue the FRIENDS theme song). Those years begin to roll away the second we start to appreciate them, though, and we, taught to buy things a size too small (to fit into), aren't able to keep up. We get stuck in the details. Lost in the parts of yesterday we haven't been able to work out. Our heads feel round, rolling away without us... So why not roll with it?
Today's goal is to roll.
I'm working towards getting unstuck. Acceptance isn't settling but it's a step closer to better. I'm aiming to be better.
Culturally, better is a foreign construct. The architects of our someday-home's, we chisel-our faces, our bodies, into being this unattainable image. So better gets lost in what we should look like. Better gets lost in how we think we should feel. Our thoughts make us stuck, with ever repeated motion, because we don't think once and move on--we look back, we analyze, we ask ourselves what we could have done better.
I'm giving myself the gift of nothing.
There is nothing I could have done better. Except for this next moment. Better catch up, before it's gone.
This is Me:
My name's Melissa. I'm the girl with her hands in her journal.