Whiny ramblings of a whiny rambler

Body dysmorphia. I’ve never liked my body. When I was a child I was super skinny and tall. Stork. Bean. Pole. Those were some of the nicer names I was called. I didn’t like to eat which freaked out my mother who would threaten to have me fed through a tube. My mother, who with my much older sister, were constantly dieting and obsessing over everything that crossed their lips.

When I hit puberty I was still pretty skinny but suddenly that was desirable. I still felt like I was ugly. My legs were too thin, except for my calves which were too big. I hated my boobs, small yet saggy. I obsessed over every flaw. Boys were complimentary and I knew they liked me well enough, and I suppose objectively I knew I was considered pretty but I never FELT pretty. When I finally tried to use my looks as a model I was told I wasn’t good enough. Big surprise I got knocked up.

Honestly, kids were the best thing that happened to me. I had something other than myself to be concerned for. I loved being mom. I found value in things other than my appearance. It was still hard though. My ex-husband was abusive. Not physically, but he was always on hand with a put-down. Even the compliments were left-handed, “You excel at two things: Cooking and blowjobs.” “I was kidding, jeese!” Let’s ignore the jobs I held to pay the bills while he was getting a business started. Let’s ignore that I was basically his office manager for free, that his business would have foundered without me. Cooking and blowjobs and demeaning permutations of ‘mom’ when referring to me. I divorced him finally and I’d love to say I screwed him over in the divorce but it was just the opposite. I didn’t want to put my kids through hell so I walked away with virtually nothing. We used a mediator. A mediator that I later found was one of his many girlfriends.

He expected I’d come crawling back. I didn’t. I thrived. I finished school, got a good job. Bought a condo on the beach. Had/kept/earned the love and respect of my kids. I’m the one they go to when they need advice. Met and married a wonderful guy. If my kids don’t go to me, they go to him. I still look in the mirror and see flaws though and age doesn’t help.

I’m not trolling for compliments. I’m not doing anything other than spewing what’s on my mind. Be nice to one another, you don’t know what goes on inside their head.