Dear Kayde, You’re A Big Boy Now

Dear Kayde,

I’m a huge slacker.

A lot changes in a very short amount of time. But for some reason I never feel that I have anything significant to write.

You are now two years, two months, and twenty-two days old. Weird, and completely unintentional. You’re a genius, but we’ve known this since the day you were born. You go to sleep in your own bed now, in your own room, like a big boy. Most early mornings you come crawling back into my bed, which is okay with me. I’m proud of you for sleeping by yourself for most of the night. You brush your teeth before bed, grab your blankie, binky, and cup, and walk into your room. You’re never very happy about it, as you’re usually whining or crying. But you do it, and that is what’s important.

You still see Daddy the same amount of time, between six and eight days a month. And Daddy pays child support finally, after signing an agreement giving me sole physical custody of you. Now we’re just waiting for the date of our hearing to finalize our divorce.

I’m hoping I’ll be able to get a court order stating that I can take you out of state, so we can move to Austin in about a year. Daddy won’t agree to it, so I’m desperately hoping it will still work out. Otherwise we’re stuck here. I hate it here. And Craig isn’t here. And there are so many better opportunities for us in Austin. I wish Daddy would stop being selfish and think about what’s best for you. I would never keep you from him, you’d still see him just as much.

We’re still living with Bammy and Ampa. It definitely isn’t my favorite place to be, but I do appreciate the opportunity to live comfortably while also saving money for our future. I have a job interview tomorrow, so hopefully I’ll be working a “real” job soon, as well as continuing school in the Fall. I’m trying really hard to not let my anxieties control my life. And I’ll do anything to give you the life you deserve.

I love you so much, Chickaletta.

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Body Reality

Hey ladies and gents!

If you’ve kept up with my blog (which I’ll admit is severely lacking in content), then I would assume you’re aware of my body issues. After taking a shower last night, I felt I needed to post about it.

I spent the time between getting undressed and actually starting the shower examining every part of my body. Like literally EVERY part. I’m not sure if it’s in hopes that I’ll have this epiphany and suddenly believe that I’m this beautiful being, or just to remind myself of how disgusting I truly am. The latter is the result of this examination, every time.

But while doing this, I was thinking how sad it is that I’m so ashamed of myself. I have very little control over my natural appearance. It’s sad to think that so many people hide so many aspects of themselves from the world, when they didn’t choose these things.

I hide so much of my body, because I hate the way it looks. I’m embarrassed of the tiny, purple spider veins sprawling across my thighs. I hate the cellulite I see covering my body from the waist down. I hate the little spots all over my calves that never seem to disappear. I hate my round face and the double chin I catch a glimpse of in every reflection. I hate how my face is so unsymmetrical that my eyelashes make one eye appear much smaller, only one eyebrow is capable of having an arch, and half of my smile is almost scary looking. I hide half my face behind my hair, and almost never wear anything exposing my legs. I blame myself. I must be too out of shape, or too fat, or too lazy. Something. Anything to blame myself.

I have some control over my weight and the amount of fat stored on my body, so I can take blame for that. And believe me, I do. But I didn’t get to decide what my face looks like, or how curvy I am, or how many freckles I was going to have splattered across the entirety of my body. And that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair to me, or to anyone else, to be ashamed of these things.

The saddest part of all is that I’m still going to be ashamed. And so is every person advocating “body positivity”, whether they choose to admit it or not. Because as humans, we’re conditioned to feel this way. It sucks. And it’s maddening. But it’s life, and we have to figure out how to deal with it in the least self-harming way.

I am the worst advocate of this. I’m completely aware of all of these things, yet I still blame and hate myself for all of it. It’s irrational. I just hope that some day things regress as far as image goes. Go back to judging people based on their intelligence, what they can accomplish, and who they are as a person. I don’t want Kayde growing up in a society that will shame him for being flawed. Because everyone is flawed. Beautifully flawed.