Author: Michelle

So I was writing about self image because of thinking about shit because of fat camp which led to thinking about what I am trying to replace when I swallow food instead of feeling emotions which led to me thinking about the 1 in 5 college girls who get sexually assaulted which led to trying to write a story about a girl who gets raped which led me to thinking about how I never have been raped but I have fucked a lot of guys to avoid it coming to that which led to thinking about if promiscuity can ever be healthy which led to thinking and writing about relationships I have had with men over the years which led me back to writing about self image and then I was just in a loop so I decided to write about not writing about any of it.

There.

And tell me, did Venus blow your mind?
Was it everything you wanted to find?
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?
–Train/Drops of Jupiter

I was talking to a friend who joked about my use of a double negative. Using a negative to say something positive.
“Is it enough to not be unkind?”

In the context of what I was saying, it was a good linguistic choice, but I’m noticing that I do it when I talk about myself all the time:
“I am not un-attractive.”

Can’t I just say I’m attractive?
Why do I have to not be unsomething?
What internal issue keeps me from saying “I am” instead of “I am not?”

I don’t want to define myself in negative space. It’s like I am devaluing myself. Not like I am. I am.

Uh. Like that.

It’s very hard for me, obviously.

Why, I wonder?

Some things are easier. I’m smart.
I don’t feel a need to squiggle around when I talk about my brain. It’s a good brain. I use it a lot. Of course, I have had continual reinforcement of it’s excellence over the years. I’ve always been a smart girl, although I haven’t always seen the value in it. Maybe that’s why I can compliment myself on it. I don’t value it?

I think I do.

I have a much harder time making a complimentary statement about my looks. I would have to modify any positive statement about how I look. Partly because I don’t think it should be important. Partly because maybe I don’t really believe any positive statement about the way I look. Maybe it’s just humble bragging. Maybe all of the above.

Can I be vain and completely devoid of self-esteem about the same aspect of myself? Yep.

Can I choose how other people see me? Of course not. I can’t choose how they talk about me, either. I have little to no control over other people except in voicing a preference if they say or do something I don’t like.

I do, however, theoretically control what I say and what I think. Oh, it feels like I have no control over what I think. I guess I can’t stop thoughts beginning to poke into my brain. But I can certainly stop them rooting there, right? If I choose to.

That’s the thing. If. If I choose. I choose.

And how depressing is it to realize that I don’t have to think anything negative or even un-positive, about myself or anyone else if I don’t choose to?

It’s very depressing. Because I haven’t stopped doing it. Even though I have full control over it.

What does that say about me, I wonder?

For a start, it says that now that I’ve noticed it, I have to do something about it. It’s a good thing I’m so smart. That’ll make it easier.

Cue the laugh track…

I’m going to end up in Mexican pubic hair jail.
–Me/On discovering that my pubic hair preferences differ from those of my travel companions on the way to Cabo

It’s been a little gloomy around the blog lately with all my thinking about body image. This is still going to be vaguely about body image, but it’s the lighter side.

Let’s talk about pubic hair.

I can honestly say that until I was well into adulthood, I never gave pubic hair much of a thought unless got it in my mouth. Then my thought was usually, “how am I going to get this pubic hair out of my mouth discreetly, because watching someone pick pubic hair out her teeth is not sexy.”

What? It isn’t! Don’t act like you’ve never gotten pubic hair in your mouth. If you haven’t, then you aren’t doing something very important. Or all of your partners are bare. If so, carry on.

My Mom is in Italy right now. I can write whatever I want.

Maybe there’s a fetish for pubic hair in the mouth, but I am definitely not going to Google it.

Sorry. Distracted. Not Googling.

Not only did I not ever think about pubic hair, but it really never occurred to me that a person could or would do anything with it but have it be what it naturally is. Other than keeping it short enough to stop it from sticking out of a bathing suit, of course. Considering how massively slutty I was, it seems odd to me that I never thought about it. I guess I never encountered anyone who had done much with theirs. Everyone had it back then.

It was a natural era.

Even people in porn had pubic hair. And normal looking boobs. Remember normal looking boobs and pubic hair? I don’t think you see them much in porn any more. Although it has been a very long time since I’ve looked. I could be wrong.

I’m sure they did some girlscaping even back then, but everyone had a bush in my limited experience with naked women in either porn or real life. The fact that there are actually pubic hair fashions now?

I find it baffling.

Waxing? I know a lot of people who do it. It sounds awful.

Shaving? Carefully? OK.

Lasers? Are you kidding? People are getting their pubic hair permanently lasered off. For one thing, I am never going to spend that kind of money on my pubic hair. No way. For another thing, there are certain parts of my body that I don’t really want to have lasers aimed at.

Plus, what if a full bush comes back into style again? You’d never get laid again.

Is that what happens if you don’t follow pubic hair fashion? You don’t get laid? There must be some reason that there are pubic hair style trends, and sex is the obvious one.

How are the trends enforced, aside from sexual shunning?

Is there a pubic hair police force? Pubic hair jail? That could be a funny short (hair) story. Hmmm.

Here is my funny anecdote about having no pubic hair. It doesn’t involve me, exactly. I’ve done the no pubic hair thing, but it’s not a funny story. It wasn’t tragic or anything. No terrible cuts or trauma. It’s boring. I went without for a while, didn’t like how it looked. Let it grow back.

Anyway. Back when I worked on the Oncology unit, I was chatting with one of our patients, and she mentioned how tired she was of being bald. I commiserated, and then she said “you know what the worst part is? Having a bald snatch. It’s awful. And they don’t warn you about it. All of a sudden ALL of your hair is falling out. When they say full body alopecia, they should be more graphic, because I was not emotionally prepared to have my snatch look like a bald chicken.” Then she looked at me and said “are you supposed to be talking about this stuff?” (I was a secretary)

I shrugged sympathetically and said “well, technically, you are doing all of the talking. I’m not advising you what to do about it or anything. I’m just providing emotional support.”

Then she asked me if I had ever had a bald snatch personally. Of course I lost it. Well first I said yes. Then she said “oh, that an inappropriate question, wasn’t it?” And *then* I lost it. I told her I didn’t like the way it looked either. Like a 5 year old girl.

We were still giggling when her doctor walked in.

“What are you two laughing about.”

“Pubic hair.”

“Uh…what about it? Am I going to be sorry I asked?”

“You doctors should really tell us that we’re going to lose ALL of our hair including our bush when we get chemo. I am not someone who looks in a mirror very much, but I have to look at the naked spot where my bush used to be every time I pee, and it’s very upsetting. I would have liked to be more mentally prepared for it.”

“Uh…I guess I never thought of it that way. We will try to be more explanatory at the office.”

More giggles. “Look, Michelle. I made him blush.”

Good times.