I’m at work at the moment updating this! Oooeeer. I was horrified when I went to sign in and it autofilled my blog name. Oops! Oh well, hopefully no one else here logs into wordpress and if they do, hopefully they don’t go reading it. I’ve fixed it to prevent it from happening and will work my way through all the computers later. If they did read it, oh well. Nothing in here I wouldn’t stand by or be happy to say aloud. I want to bitch about work because it’s really depressing me, but it really would be of no interest to any of you and it will sound extremely petty. Also, I probably -wouldn’t- be happy to stand by/say aloud anything I’d write about it.
Groups of women. I know a lot of you reading this would probably do anything to be included in one, as a woman. Let me tell you now, choose your ‘squad’ wisely. I like to speak in generalisations a lot, and I will here. But large groups of women spending too much time together is quite possibly the top of the list in my first world problems. Backstabbing, gossiping and passive aggressive manipulative behaviour trump all. I went to an all girls high school and I hated it. Avoided groups of women for a very long time after I left. I am now in a position at work where I am working with mostly women and OH MY GOD. I’ve lost my eyes to the back of my head so frequently that my brain is more familiar to me than the back of my hand.
Being a woman isn’t all just clothes and make up. There’s a lot of good and bad about it. The other day Paul was the recipient of his first dick pic via an instagram. I’m not entirely sure if he was shocked, amused or what. But welcome to ladies’ night, darling!
Perhaps one of the biggest things that women have battled with over many years is body image. Do not get sucked in to it. Please! My concern with Paul and instagram is not dick pics. It’s the uber glam trans ladies who have money spewing out of their pert arses. The ones with professional hair/make up/photography/costumes/photoshoppers. Ideally in their early 20’s with feminine features. Paul spends a lot of time looking at these types. I am concerned that he has set himself extremely unrealistic expectations of what he should look like. He gets a bit down about it sometimes. I have expressed this concern to him. Ideally, I’d like him to perhaps spend a bit more time looking at the -normal- trans ladies. Your every day lady. Normal (read: so many different types of) body shapes, facial features etc. Older ladies. Not the 20 year olds with the perfect skin, cheekbones, eyebrows and utter lack of wrinkles. Unless of course you are 20, with the above attributes, then knock yourself out checking them out. Maybe what I should say is I’d like him to check out people who have achievable looks. Look at what is working for them, what looks ridiculous on them and what kinds of ‘enhancements’ they are using and how these things could work for him.
Fortunately, I am a strong & confident woman. There is a part of me that could look at Paul staring at his instagram of trans ladies for hours and take that to mean that he doesn’t find me attractive and he wants someone who looks like what he’s staring at for hours. Luckily for him I am wise enough to know that he is looking at it because he’s imagining himself looking like that and it doesn’t particularly threaten me. I think like that now, but I am not sure how I will feel about it in 5 years time. Right now though, I understand he’s got a freedom that he hasn’t had before and it’s really difficult to not obsess over it. Sorry to say though, there’s a lot of women who do not think like me and will think like the first option. That they aren’t good looking in the way their husbands want, and thinking that they never will be because they are cis females, what’s wrong with them, etc. Â It’s not to say don’t look. Look. But don’t obsess. It’s really, really, really fucking bad for you, OK?
We, you, we’re all gorgeous. We’ve all got that one thing we can work. Mine used to be my boobs. But then after a while I had turned myself into a commodity by flaunting them all the time. It was never “Oh that dress looks lovely”, it would be more “Oh my god, look at your tits!!! Can I touch them?” Really? Actually, I was lucky if I was asked. So many guys just motorboated, poked, peeked under what little was covered up without even asking. “Well if you’re gonna have them out like that you’ve gotta expect that!” Really? I can expect that they will be looked at and talked about. Yep. But so many guys just figured it was their right to get all up in them because you know, I had them on display. I have since started to cover them up, but they’re DD’s and not the easiest to keep under wraps. Plus I like them. But the attention just became demeaning.
So. Find what works for you. Maybe you’ve got a great smile and look great in glasses. Maybe your legs are where it’s at. Maybe it’s your eyebrows, perhaps the eyes below them. Maybe it’s a particular pair of shoes that show off your calves just right. (One strange thing I’ve noticed and had confirmed by speaking to other women is that guys really go for calves. I think each of us at some stage have been complimented on our calves!! Strange!) Maybe it is your boobs or chest. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Just find what is working for you, even if it means trying out a gazillion different styles.(FUN!) Put the plastic photoshopped 20 year old away. Please look anywhere else for inspiration. Also, and I say this as a ‘larger’ woman (size 18, 5’7″ tall, size 11 wide feet), do not be afraid of checking out the plus size ranges of clothing. Particularly with tights/stockings/hosiery. I can’t wear regular tights. They are too short in the crotch and leave a terrible roll around the middle, or under my belly to really accentuate the roundness of it. Plus size tights are a lot longer which means a lot more comfortable. Same goes for jeans. There’s an Australian brand that both Paul and I swear by called ‘City Chic’ and their jeans are just superb. All their clothes are. But plus size specific brands are great because they are not only larger in size but also made for a bit more height and width in the shoulders. And great fitting clothing will instantly make you feel sexier.
Take a look at all the body image related content on line (it is generally aimed at women) about how society views women. This was the opening to a story about Jessica Simpson in a trashy womens magazine (New Weekly – Au) “Holy Hooters! The star’s on a mission to get the biggest melons in town” It then went on to explain how much her husband loves her curves and can’t wait for her to get bigger boobs. Truly, it’s fascinating reading. Forget your significant business achievements, Jess. Tits, or get the fuck out!
Ok. I don’t know what my point on this entry is. I just don’t want to be at work. I am so tired. I don’t want to talk to the person I am stuck with tonight. So I have kept myself occupied by spewing out the internal thoughts on here. Sorry for the ramble, it’s all important stuff though. 🙂
For what its worth, for those who notice these kinds of things, I am going to start using song titles as my titles. I’ve used one previously and decided that it’s what I am going to do as I am crap at thinking up titles. Guess the artist. Here’s the lyrics to the title. They are not this artists finest by a long shot.
——-
From the ice-age to the dole-age
There is but one concern
I have just discovered :
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girl’s mothers are bigger than
Other girl’s mothers
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girl’s mothers are bigger than
Other girl’s mothers
As Anthony said to Cleopatra
As he opened a crate of ale :
Oh, I say :
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girl’s mothers are bigger than
Other girl’s mothers
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girl’s mothers are bigger than
Other girl’s mothers
Send me the pillow…
The one that you dream on…
Send me the pillow…
The one that you dream on…
And I’ll send you mine