I've been trying to put my thoughts in order all morning so I can write this entry. No, it's not political. It's more of a personal sort of thing. Yes, there is some anger. But to be honest, more of a sadness.
I follow quite a few people who write blogs for one reason or another. Most of what I read is full of information and often quite entertaining.
I read something earlier today that made me want to laugh, then cry and ultimately throw things.
This particular blogger has a back injury that requires them to go to physical therapy. Usually, they have humorous anecdotes to share about how they have stretched things they never knew could stretch, bend in ways they never dreamed possible and how great they feel after the session is over. This mornings entry was completely different.
It seems during the last trip to PT "Blogger A" felt they were being stared at by the other people in the room in a negative way.
While reading this blogger's post this morning I kept asking myself the same question over and over. Why do we always worry about how other people see us?
I've written many times about being overweight and the struggle I have with that. I've tried so many different things to lose some of the extra pounds I carry. My health and life quality would be much better if I could get rid of 50 or so pounds and keep it off.
"A" freely admits to not being in the best physical shape, they are overweight for their body type and struggles as do most of the rest of us.
Here is where the anger sets in.
We are living in 2018. Yes, there are still so many people who look at someone and degrade them, either by thoughts, words or deeds. In this day and age, why is the rule of "man" still so important to us? Why do we allow what others think of us to continually cause harm?
When we permit others to judge us on our looks, we fall back into the self-loathing so many of us were taught by the adults who influenced our lives.
Yes, I still have moments of self-consciousness over the way I look on the outside. It mostly rears it's ugly head when I'm on the road with Jimmy in the Big Ass truck and we've stopped at a truck stop. You know, those places teaming with the male species.
You see, I have large boobs and I don't wear a bra. But they aren't swinging in the wind either. I wear a cami under my shirts and when I'm out of the truck, I usually have my arms crossed over my chest. Why do I do that to myself?
Many of the men you come across in a truck stop still feel women are to be considered lesser sexual objects. They are ones that ogle and gawk. And make us feel somehow lesser. Why do I allow a stranger that I probably won't ever see again have this effect on me? Out of all the personal growth and changes I've been able to embrace, this one thing still gets to me. EVERY FUCKING TIME!
I am 62 years old! I am proud of who I am and the things I've overcome! I'm proud of the things I've accomplished! And you can bet your sweet ass, I'm gonna be working to overcome this one thing that still holds me back!
Now, where did I put that "Self Love" journal I need to start working in again???