omnia_mutantur | "it's not enough, but it's all I've got"

the only time i really like the way i look is when i see myself in the reflection of store windows, or car windows. forgiving mediums, blurring all my imperfections until i'm kinda cute, in a dorky girl with glasses way. baggy jeans and birks and a purple tank top, my black bra straps and my tits on display. my hair's down, there's a strip of skin between jeans and where my top has ridden up and i just look incredibly curvy and sort of lush, rather than the overweight that i am when i actually look at myself. i didn't want to stop and stare, who looks at their own reflection in public but the grotesquely narcissistic, but it was such an odd out-of-time moment that it hit me like a blow last night on my way into b&n. i wish, for a moment, i could see myself like light sees me, or anyone who finds me attractive. because while i'm grateful that he does want to see me naked, i still can't imagine why. and the more i try to think about how i'm eating, the more i walk to work, the more spring it is, the more i become aware of my body. and i try to separate out the moments, and not think about my thighs when i'm enjoying the walking through wet grass in sandals sensations, or playing with an increasingly better sense of smell and taste or just sinking into the remarkably decadent feeling of skin on skin snuggling with light. but it seems like it's always in the corner of my perception, depressing enough that if i start to think about what i can do to correct it, i get paralyzed.

grrr, everything that put me in a place where i can't like how i look. grr society, grr my parents, grr fashion industry and glossy magazines, grr my inability to block disapproval out, mine or other people's, implicit or explicit.