Pervert.

I was 13.

I was 13 when I was sitting talking to my ballet teacher,

we had a while before class was supposed to start,

and her and I had a great relationship.

We always talked

and could talk about everything.

Friends.

Family.

but most of all...

boys.

We began talking about the boy I liked,

and she (like usual) gushed about her husband. 

Some how it came up how interesting it seemed that different guys

were attracted to different girls.

I remember this like it just happened,

she turned to me and said 

"yeah! some guys are more into pretty faces

and thin peitte bodies,

like my husband.

Then you'll find guys who like curvier girls like you;

unfortunately they tend to be more perverted"

She then back tracked a lot,

making clear that I wasn't fat,

Just significantly bustier than her 

(yes, even at 13)

and that my hips were bigger, 

not in a bad way though.

(and that I too, had a pretty face)

But she never took back the fact that guys attracted to girls,

that look like me,

tend to be perverts. 

This idea has been uncomfortably reinforced with 

"compliments" like:

"You have the natural body of a porn star"

or

"people pay a lot of money to get some of the curves you have"

I usually reply with

"that's the most offensive compliment I've gotten in a while"

They then explain why they're right.

And I stand there...

taking in the idea

once again

That my body is only appealing to a highly sexual mind.

Now,

poor me right?

Who is going to listen to me complain about this,

and take me the least bit serious...

probably no one.

But keep in mind,

after that conversation with my ballet teacher..

I started wearing clothes that were way too big for me,

and usually "boy" clothes.

While I've gotten a bit better,

I'm still really uncomfortable in anything

"figure flattering"

I'm writing all this because I recently stumbled on an ex boyfriends facebook page.

Now, when I say ex... I mean... like years and years and years ago ex.

His profile picture is of him and his new bride;

who is small,

nearly flat chested,

small hips,

and a very pretty face.

When we dated,

 I knew he struggled with an addiction to porn intermittently.

But as I sat there looking at this wedding picture,

I "heard" myself thinking,

"he's finally kicked the addiction.

good for him."

When I said/thought that though,

I was basing that completely on the fact that his wife 

didn't have a body like mine.

He was no longer a pervert.

I've spent most of my life walking around

(like many girls)

Hating my body.

picking apart every possible flaw,

noticing weight that "needed" to be lost, 

and 

 despising each blemish that showed up.

Now imagine that,

while simultaneously cringing whenever someone expresses 

that they like my body at all,

because I automatically think,

"that's because you're a pervert, and only want to have sex"

 

 

 

Funeral.

This post is going to be borderline morbid, 

kinda,

for some.

As you know, this last week my aunt passed away.

and I watched as my cousins, grandparents, and other family members

went through the painful process of planning yet another funeral.

A funeral that was a bit more expected,

but not much more planned for.

I watched my cousins become over whelmed,

when all they wanted to do was sit and grieve.

Planning a funeral is horrible.

There are a million and ten things that have to be done,

all while you're trying to be grateful to everyone who calls or stops by,

when all you truly want to do is lay in bed and cry.

The week of planning the funeral

is the most intense feeling of sadness,

and the busiest week you'll ever experience.

So. 

to avoid that for my family again,

I'm 23, in pretty good health, a safe driver,

and have my funeral planned out.

I have who I want to speak/play some part in the program,

(this is updated as people come and go in my life)

(Brother, Grandpa, Grandma, Dr. C, and a few others)

 

I have my favorite hymns listed to chose from

(Nearer My God to Thee,

Be Still My Soul,

and 

I Know My Redeemer Lives)

I have a list of songs saved that I'd like played/performed/sung;

Examples:

Tangerine: Led Zeppelin

 Golden Slumbers: The Beatles

Look at Me: Damien Rice

Annie's Song: John Denver

Close Your Eyes: Jump Little Children

Smile: Nat King Cole

(This list is actually really really long)

I've talked to a few people about how important it is to me

that my obituary is "real."

I've told them,

"I'm not the best at anything,

I'm not very sweet,

I'm not the greatest,

and not everyone I meet loves me,

So don't say any of that"

(I can't write my own. It'd be too depressing for people to read)

My headstone needs to have my middle name.

 I don't care that it's not legal,

put quotations.

I want to be wearing pearls.

and for heavens sake...

Will someone PLEASE make sure I don't have

a) a uni brow

b) a mustache

and

c) will someone put fake lashes on me?

(we put them on my mom, they looked amazing)

Well, 

I guess you don't even need to come,

You've just read the whole line up!

(there are no plans to die anytime soon.

But after losing my mom unexpectedly,

and working at the hospital and seeing so many unexpected/untimely deaths,

you... I guess just plan more than most)

Chanda.

Tuesday afternoon my Aunt Chanda passed away.

She had stage four melanoma

(skin cancer)

and had been living with that diagnosis for roughly 4 years.

Now, I'm not going to sit here and say that her and I were close,

That I think she was incredible,

and that I'll have to figure out life without a best friend.

While I didn't hate her,

nor ever wish death upon her,

her passing wasn't a blow to my system like losing my moms was.

I guess thats "normal"

right?

My mom was my mom.

was.

I hate that word.

Back to the point.

if there is one.

I went up to my grandparents on tuesday,

after I recieved the text that she had passed,

I walked in and her body was still in bed.

I looked at her,

and while I was sad,

I was okay.

I looked over at my grandma,

and my heart began to ache for her.

I began thinking about how this was her second daughter that she was going to burry.

Someone

(my grandma)

who has spent her life trying to be nothing but good and righteous,

has experienced a lot of heart ache.

I continued to scan the room,

and that's when I saw my little cousin

Hazen.

The strong silent type.

He's not someone who's going to sob in front of anyone,

and he'll down play every painful emotion he experiences.

I lost it the second I saw him.

He's the same age I was when I lost my mom,

and his high school sweetheart just left,

like mine did.

His whole world is changing.

Just like mine did.

After I stopped crying over Hazen,

my other cousin walked in.

Corbin.

The sweaty teenage male version of me at his age.

My heart shattered.

His relationship with his mom,

is what mine was with mine at his age.

 His relationship wasn't great,

and while finger can be pointed either,

He's a teenager,

who never got a healing relationship with his mom.

So again,

I'm not going to sit here and try to gain a sympathy vote,

by claiming I lost someone near and dear to me,

or someone I admired and looked up to.

But my cousins...

... Their faces simply stop my heart...

because besides the fact that I love both of them dearly,

I know how this feels.

Losing your mom... sucks.

no matter what the state of your relationship.

So please,

if you're still reading this,

and your eye has teared,

or your heart has ached,

don't pray for me,

pray for my cousins.

because, speaking from experience, it's a long next few years.

I love you Hazer.

Love you Corbina. 

Dating.

So- here I am,

one thirty ish in the morning,

sitting at work and thinking way too much.

It's weird thinking though,

I've struggled today with completing full thoughts,

and I've been making some really strange mistakes.

The kind that the second I do them I look up and say

(to whoever is around me)

"...I have no idea why I just did that..."

I feel like that's what I'll be saying the second I finish this post.

But.

Here I am.

And Here you are.

So let us continue.

So, you may or may not know,

but after a good hunk of time being out,

I'm back in the dating world.

and..

I can't figure out how I feel about it.

I mean, obviously things didn't work out according to plan,

and that makes me sad,

but even that aside,

I sit an I think about it,

and I'm not convinced I should ever get married.

I've spent a lot of time reflecting on my last relationship,

and on my relationship with my high school sweetheart,

and I've come to a really uncomfortable realization that...

holy cow, I'm a lot of crazy in one person.

I've sat with tears in my eyes talking about those two relationships

and said

I don't even blame them for leaving.

even that aside...

Is my idea of love and marriage just off?

completely and totally unrealistic?

I want to be in a love

(yes I worded that how I meant to)

where,

we're best friends,

who just happen to want to make out.

I want to be missed when I'm not around,

I want "him" to be excited/proud to be with me,

...I want a strong commitment and devotion...

I want an understood freedom.

I want to sit comfortably in silence,

I want to argue about uncomfortable things.

I want to hear

"I love you"

"I miss you"

"can I come over for a minute?"

and

"I love that you never wear anything but bball shorts."

(see... not realistic)

I read all these poems,

watch all these movies,

and listen to all these songs,

where the guy aches for the girl.

Where he feels like he's crumbling without her.

Where all of her flaws are there and apparent,

but the longing for her outways every bit of insanity.

But!

Here's the kicker...

I smother easily.

Yup.

Goodluck right?

I know.

I just want to know that the deep soulfull love that I day dream about exists.

I want to believe that it's out there.

But... I'm not sure I do.

I'm not sure that these songs, stories, and sonnets are nothing more

than beautiful wishes,

words expressing a painful hearts desire,

not a mirror of any actual reality.

I'm done with these thoughts for the night.

I hope you've found your love,

or that your hope for such is still alive.

p.s

to top it all off....

I recently found this gem.

I listen to it at least twice an hour.

This song is one of "those" songs.

(it's ruining my life.)