For the past few weeks, maybe even months, I’ve been feeling pretty down on myself. Blame it on the weather, my stagnant career situation, the weeks upon weeks I went without running, the spotty male attention, what have you; I still felt like crap. Nothing I put on looked good, no matter how much time I spent on my outfit it didn’t look as good as :insert name here:’s – I was living up to an imaginary standard that wasn’t within my reach at the time. Weirdly enough, I don’t even know why it started. It made me wonder, “is this a normal human feeling? Is it unique to women put on by society to always look better than they can? How can I go back to feeling satisfied?”
I kept trying to write answers to those questions but, in all honesty, it made for a long-winded and boring set of estimates with only one good joke about men posting pictures of themselves on Instagram. When it comes to others and what’s so-called normal, my guess is as good as yours. But it doesn’t change the fact that I have felt like a fat spotted pony in a dress more days than not for a while. It made me unsure, grumpy, jealous, and tripled my “get ready” time. None of those are things I want – I’m notorious for getting ready in ten minutes max, twenty if I have to shower. And frankly, when I don’t feel so great about myself, I seek attention elsewhere.
I’m not one to expect male attention, even from the guy I’m sleeping with (seeing? spending time with? I don’t know the proper grammatical ethical term, nor do I care), when I’m out and about. I am very good at entertaining myself. But the past few weekends, I watched myself get upset when I was all but ignored, heard myself bitch, whine, moan, and complain and then shut up the second he paid attention to me. I wanted to kick myself! I am not co-dependent when it comes to a good time!
Maybe it was a dangerous cocktail of low self-esteem, too much alcohol, and a questionable ‘relationship’ that’s making me turn into this humped drunk crone waxing poetic about how life isn’t fair. I use the term relationship as loosely as humanly possible, but I’m not sure what else to call it and writing “questionable situation in which I spend time with the same guy every weekend” takes too long to write over and over again.
But the past two weeks, after a weekend chock full of moping, grumping, and generalized annoyance with myself, I have begun to slap myself back into shape. I droned on and on over how I was going to do this and that in the new year and you know what? I haven’t written a blog post until now, hadn’t exercised, ate out…ohhh…almost every day, and wasn’t expanding my horizons. And as much as I could eat goat cheese on top of fried pita bread EVERY DAY (go to Main Cup in Middletown and get the Build-Your-Own-Bruschetta…immediately), I knew it was only pulling me down further.
So, back to the (freezing) sidewalk did I trot. I have been, almost unintentionally, been running a mile and a half every other day. Not the three miles I was over the summer, but I also haven’t had any shin splint issues yet either. I’m forcing myself to get up Friday mornings and go to seven a.m. yoga even if that is the only time I go to yoga that week. I’ve been making my own meals – trying to keep emphasis on things that are green and steamed. I hiked Harpers Ferry’s Maryland Heights Trail again and you know, it’s still my favorite trail for a work out. My butt was sore the next day, but that is totally okay.
And strangely, ever since I started putting my focus back on bettering myself rather than trying to force having a good time (and actually just pulling at my shirt for three hours), I’ve noticed things. I go to bed earlier, wake up earlier, get more done, feel more satisfied, and feel more sure of myself. I eventually want this blog to turn into something more than just my place to journal out thoughts that feel repetitive, I want it to actually be a blog. I want to post pictures of my life, of the fancy food I make that’s only 300 calories and has cheese, and describe the beautiful twists and turns that make life interesting – especially in your 20’s. So, readers, I’m breaking the fourth wall here but, thank you for putting up with my ups and downs and my long-winded inner conversations. I promise that I have a life. I do things, fun things. Sometimes even every day. And I want to share them with you! And I will. Because even though I may have gotten a bit of a late start to my resolutions, I actually am working on them now.
I’ve been hounding a manager for a social media coordinator position now for almost a week. I’m not sure if that’s necessarily positive, but at least he knows that I’m really interested in the position.
And this is that point where I wrap up by actually getting to the point of the title – last night I was driving home from work and checking my makeup (totally normal habit at 11:30pm on a Tuesday night) and had this moment of self-assuredness. Maybe I won’t like myself every day, maybe I’ll feel fat and unattractive more often than not sometimes, but I have AWESOME hair. I elicit hair envy. And you know, that perked me right up. So I flipped up that mirror and actually focused on the road. That shit’s covered in deer.