My Worst Enemy

Top: Anthropologie Puckered Placket Turtleneck

Skirt: Anthropologie Hellebore Sweater Skirt

Belt: Anthropologie Looping Lanes Belt

Boots: Frye Paige Tall Riding Boots

Earrings: Tree and Kimble

"But the fire beneath my feet came coursing right through me. Though I never said a word, you were always my enemy." - Bear Driver

I really hate certain things about myself. For instance, I'm insanely jealous, have zero tolerance for stupid people (and it seems like most people are stupid), and just all around get along better when I don't have to face the world. Of course, no one would know this by my behavior. I've gotten really good over the years at wearing my social mask. I've said it many times before, but I believe I could be truly happy in a cabin in the woods. I think that Henry Thoreau dude was on to something. I suppose I'm lucky in that my job doesn't require me to interact with people that much, because I think I would seriously lose it otherwise. I wish I didn't feel this way. I really am my own worst enemy.

Jerry always sees the good in people. He never gets jealous when other people have more than him. He's so giving and never expects anything in return. It's sickening, really... Well, he does get the occasional road rage, but, hey, nobody's perfect. Anyway, I'll take whatever he's having, because I feel like such a horrible person for feeling the way I do sometimes. I want to love my fellow man and give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but damn if some people don't make that hard.

I think instead of focusing on what pisses me off about other people, I need to focus on my own weaknesses. After all, my own weaknesses are what's causing me to have these negative feelings in the first place. If I'm secure in myself then there will be no need for me to get upset at what other people say or do. I've come so far already from the scared, shy, insecure girl I was 10 or even 20 years ago. It's ironic that I'm discussing the topic of insecurity on a post where my boobs are so "in your face." I've talked about a lot of personal things on here, but I don't think I've ever written about the hell I endured in high school because of my boobs. I guess that over 20 years later, it's still an upsetting topic for me.      

I hit puberty around 12 and with it came 2 very big changes. I basically went from flat chested to DD's over the Summer between my 6th and 7th grade years. It was insane. I've always been small-framed so big boobs looked crazy on me. I got teased horribly throughout my junior high and high school years. I thought if I could just have small boobs my life would be so much easier. I tried every trick in the book: uncomfortable minimizing bra's, loose fitting clothes, etc. My mom got so tired of hearing me cry, she even tried wrapping them in an ace bandage once. Let's just say uniboob wasn't a good look for me. 

When I was 18, I decided to go to extreme measures and get a breast reduction. My older sister had one when she was 18 and said it was one of the best things she had ever done. It was a long process of driving to Durham several times to have consultations, pictures taken, and a good amount of blood drawn to donate to myself in case of an emergency during surgery. It was some pretty scary shit for an 18 year old that had never been in a hospital a day in her life. The morning of my surgery I completely freaked out. I couldn't believe I was voluntarily going through major surgery just to have smaller boobs. However, once they hit me with the Valium, all my worries slipped away (that Valium they shoot into your IV is some good shit).

It was a hard recovery. I've since had 3 c-sections and bounced back from those very quickly. The breast reduction kicked my ass. However, once I recovered, I was very happy with the results and was glad I did it. Apparently, my doctor was a fan of big boobs, because he only took me down to a C, but they were perky and smaller, so I was happy. I remember going out and buying my first little lacey bra from Victoria's Secret. It was like a dream come true.

Fast forward to 3 babies and 20 pounds later, and they're baaaaaack! Well, not completely, but I'm a good solid D now. It's funny that I went through all that only to still end up with big boobs. I did enjoy them while they were smaller, though. I rocked a lot of tight fitting shirts during my college days. Hell, I guess I'm still rocking the tight fitting shirts now.

Anyway, I wrote all of this to say that I think people and I got off to a bad start. I grew up with the mentality that people were the enemy. Somewhere along the way I started holding what they thought of me above what I thought of myself. I think I still resent them for that. The truth is we're all fucked up. Remember the special fucking snowflake? The best thing I can do going forward is embrace the differences not only in myself but in other people. It would certainly be a boring world if we were all the same.