Tag Archives: love

I started on one topic, and it meandered into this one.

While I was writing my weight entry, I started going off topic onto this area. I cut it out and put it here because its a seperate issue that needs to be addressed.

As I’ve hit my 30s, certain behavior just sickens me. (It bothered me before, but now it’s had years to sink in.) I want to stress here that ALL PEOPLE tend to do what I’m about to say, but since we are talking about relationships, I will stick to hetero addressing before it gets confusing. And well assume the girl is younger and the man older, though we all know it can be reversed.

It’s disgusting to think at 30 years old you haven’t realized that people are more than a package. That dating people for looks isn’t only juvenile, but just plain stupid. We’re not 16 anymore. Weight happens. Boobs sag. Wrinkles will happen. Hair lines recede. Come on! And yet there are people who’d rather have that hot young thing as some kind of prize (when we all know its a sad attempt at having some kind of trophy because youre compensating for other things…) than to date a great girl who is a XXL. Then people whine and complain because said hot young trophy cheats. Hello?! (NOT saying all pretty people are cheaters!) They look good. They can have whoever they want. And SOME of them are going to take people up on that. Attention feels good. Everyone loves attention. Attention has gotten me in trouble in my life more than I care to count. But are you REALLY so clueless that when your 10 year younger wife cheats on you, you are suprised?

First of all, you’re in completely different stages in your lives. No, I’m not an ageist. If I wasn’t with my similarly aged husband, I can pretty much guarantee I’d be with someone older. The problem is that while there are SOME people who are “older than their age” or “are a YOUNG ___” in reality, a normal 20 and normal 30 just AREN’T THAT SIMILAR. You can try to defend it all you want…it’s reality. At 21, you want to go to the bar, have fun, experience being an “adult” and stay out all hours. At 31, youre probably at a good position in your job, living in your first house, maybe a child or two. At 41, you’re more seasoned in life, you have some teen-ish kids, and are back to having some freedom. Etc. Did you REALLY think that while youre making your home at 35 and getting those promotions that involve going to work at 5am, your newly legal 21 year old wife is going to want to go to bed at 9? Sure, there are some old souls out there. But in my experience, its not exactly the norm.
Second, while you’re needing that trophy to feel better, they’re getting all the perks a woman craves. Stability. Money. Freedom. They’re not learning how to function as a member of society. They essentially have a “sugar daddy”. Bat your pretty little lashes, ‘we’re just going out for awhile! I’ll be back soon!’ and watch her waltz into the arms of another (younger) man. Blind yourself, and think she’s not. She’s got stupid you at home, paying her bills, buying her clothes, while she parties her heart out and has fun with people her own age. (Or worse YET with another potential sugar daddy!) And ask yourself why shes doing that? Because shes young and pretty? No. Because you have NOTHING IN COMMON. Looks only get you so far. If youre not connecting with someone, youre going to go look for someone to connect too. Shes ABLE to cheat because shes young and pretty. She DOES it because shes actually empty inside.

I know of people who were 20 years apart, and it worked. Don’t think that I don’t realize it happens. It does. But its usually later in life that its more successful. 40-50, youre still pretty alike in your life. Even 30-40. But when you cross those lines in the beginning of life, you’re treading testy waters. 20 and 30 are leaps and bounds different. 25 and 35 are as well. According to science, you’re not even a mental adult until 22. So when you’re 18 and with a 30 year old, how can you even remotely be on the same page? Even if said 18 year old is “old for her age” shes still going to want to experience freedom. She may not drink and party, but she’s just now getting her first taste of real life. No restrictions. How is that going to work with someone who has had a decade to try out adult life, and has started to settle into their own ways? One of two things is going to happen: Young person tries to appease older person. It works for awhile. Then it goes to hell in a handbasket. Old person thinks they are lucky and lets young person do whatever the hell they want, and older person is miserable. That’s really the only two realistic scenarios. There are the GREAT scenerios where all works out, and they ride off into the sunset.

I just don’t really know any of those people.

 

 

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I think it’s time for me to address this

I had actually thought about writing about this topic a week or two ago, but ended up writing about other things instead. But today someone brought up the topic again, so I’ll write about it now.

The topic? Guys who chase skinny girls and why fat girls have issues.

Know going into this, that I have been on both sides. I was anorexic, at my lowest being 76. At my highest, around 190. Ive been to both extremes. So I got a pretty good idea of what goes through alot of minds.

When I was skinny, I had no self confidence. I thought I was fat. (As do all other anorexics.) Though I was in steady relationships, I could have dated people, pretty sure I wouldn’t have had a hard time finding someone. I was never single long. I got with my husband when I was about 80 pounds. Hes been with me on my weight adventure. From 76 to 120 to 160 to 125 to 170 to 140 to 190 to 150 and back to 190. (You dont wanna know how frustrating it is buying clothes when you have that big of a jump and youre only 5 ft tall. 10 pounds is a size or two!) I will say that through all of those, I will always have more confidence and feel better about myself as a person when Im…

fat.

There is too much pressure to be skinny. You always want to be skinnier than her, than her, definetely than her. Then someones smaller than you, and you’re a failure. When you’re fat, fuck it. You’re bigger than some, you’re fatter than others.

My problem is men.

I’ve always been real lucky and dated guys who were human. Not macho douchebags who wanted a trophy on their arm. Not all women are that lucky. I heard a guy on the radio the other day that said if she was 121, she was out the door: he worked for her, she should work to be good looking for him. And the guy was no prize. But this is acceptable behavior for some reason.

My husband likes me bigger. He has admitted (hold on to the handle, let me explain) that it’s easier being with a bigger girl because most have self esteem issues, that most don’t know how pretty they are, so they’re less likely to cheat. A broad generalization to be sure, but still somewhat accurate. Self doubt will keep you in relationships, even horrible ones you shouldn’t be in, just to feel loved.  Do skinny girls have these issues? Sure. But society leans towards “fat should take what they get and stay there” and skinny “can have anyone, anytime”. Its sad, but true.

Today I had to listen to a guy go on about how he’d rather be with a skinny ugly girl than a pretty bigger girl because HELLO hadn’t I ever heard of exercise and portion control? And its a ‘proven fact’ they smell. Yes, I seriously heard all that today.

Not every fat person is lazy. They didn’t all get there because they eat too much, or don’t excersize. As much as people don’t believe it, shit happens. I got fat because my lithium went off, destroyed my thyroid, and I gained 100 lbs in under six months. Which then gave me type 2 diabetes, which I then gained more. It happens. We’re not all lazy. I managed to lose it. And gain it back. And lose it again. And gain it again. Rinse, repeat. After awhile you just get tired of yo-yoing your life away.  Who was I REALLY losing that weight for?

Why are skinny people so coveted? And its not even NORMAL skinny any more. Its usually NASTY skinny. UNHEALTHY skinny. Its just as dangerous and unhealthy to be 76 lbs as it is 190 at 5’1, but lemme tell ya…that’s not how people treat you. I got appreciative stares at one weight, and sure didn’t at another. I’ll let you do the math as to what went where.

As a person, I didn’t change. Just my body did. But suddenly I was worth less as a person. (Unless you donate me to science, do they pay per pound?) Suddenly that girl is better than me because shes skinnier than me? Why?

This isn’t some rejected fat girl coveting what the skinnies get. I’m a fat girl whose seen both sides, and am in a happy relationship. But I see it daily, and it just disgusts me. Great women looked over and discarded because they’re not models. Pretty, skinny women put on pedestals that take what they can, cheat, lie, and still get more men. Why? Why aren’t people judged for their hearts? I wish peoples outsides mimicked their insides. That way horrible wretched skinny girls got the real attention they deserve. And people with hearts of gold were loved for who they are.

My doctor told me he wanted me to get skinnier. He wanted me 135. I laughed in his face. I told him no way. I didn’t want to be that little ever again. That it was dangerous for me–a recovering anorexic, that I would continue to plummet. He said “Good!” … What? I was worth more anorexic?

Because I am a recovering anorexic, I have to be very careful with my weight. I lost 40 lbs last year, got to MY goal: 150. But there was that itch. (Come on, 145. 145! Let’s see 140! Thats real close to that 135 he wanted! I bet 130 would be better!) I’m sorry but that is NOT the life I want again. If that makes me less of a person, so be it.

I just wish people would judge people on their actions, and not on stupid menial things like looks and weight.

 

 

Another self discovery (Im just full of them recently)

While conversating on another post of mine, I’ve come to yet another self realization. Just call me Epiphany.

In a completely non sexual related manner, I have more issues.

I blame it on Chinese astrology:

I’m a dog.

Lets take this apart.

Dog people are honest, faithful and sincere. They respect tradition and value honor, and enjoy helping people. The Dog is very righteous, and always is the first to speak out against injustice. He is not good at socializing with friends, and rarely shines in company, but he is intelligent, caring and a good listener.

Honesty-what gets me in trouble. Faithful-Ridiculously so. Helping people-its what I do, even when I don’t want to. Injustice-I cant be around it. I am always fighting againt injustice. Lack of socialization-I am your token introvert. Intelligent-the only thing I pride myself on.

Loyal, faithful and honest, he has the most profound sense of duty. You can count on him and he’ll never let you down. And as a good listener, the Dog is also very reliable in keeping secrets for others. He simply doesn’t like to gossip.

Counting on me-I will not speak to you for years, and you call me in an emergency, and I will come to you. I know, its happened. Secret keeping-while most people know that I run at the mouth, Im keeping some major secrets for people. Even after years.

The Dog is an agreeable companion – when he is in a good mood. But when panic strikes, he can turn nasty, and bark till he is tired. He can be judgmental, defensive and picky if you rub him the wrong way, but as long as you know how to pet and massage him, the Dog makes absolutely the best and most honorable companion on earth.

Agreeable-here, I’m sure some of you are laughing. But there is many times I actually will agree just to end an arguement. Panic-that is what got me in trouble from 17-24: When I thought I was being left/uncared for I ran for the hills for replacements. I panic when there is a lack of stability. Judgemental and defensive: everyone swears I am judgemental, but I swear to you, I am not judging you. I AM opinionated on whatever topic, however. Defensive-I am constantly “justifying” myself, out of being defensive. I have to justify every mistake, every step. It has been brought to my attention many times.

Dogs are born old and get younger as they age. They take everything very serious. You may hear the Dog complains a lot about street lamps, about traffic, or about weather, but as he gets older, the less he takes his own criticisms seriously.

Ive been an old soul since I was born. Ask anyone who knew me as a child. I actually laughed out loud when I read the next part: get younger as they age. My husband literally said to me about a year ago “when you were 17, you were 90. When you were 30 you were 17.” Maybe in our rush to grow up, we miss enjoying being young. I know that was my problem. Now I am 31 going on 15 like some warped Benjamin Button.

The loyal Dog makes a splendid captain of industry, a priest, an educator, a critic, or a doctor. But whatever his career, it’ll have in him a spokesman whose ideals will be profound and often original.

Ive been told I’d make a good doctor, or teacher.

When the fear becomes reality, Dogs go a little crazy. The Dog enters a relationship where he is the giver and the partner is the taker. He is usually very generous and loyal, and in love, he is honest and straightforward. But he will have romantic problems all his life – it’s his own fault, really: he leads himself by his emotional in stability and his eternal anxiety. He is a worrier.

I literally just said “Oh my god” as I read this. Fear makes me make stupid, life altering mistakes. I have always been the giver, not the taker. There was a time I was a taker. I was young and stupid. As I got older, I am most definetely the giver. I give until I have nothing left, and usually, don’t get a whole lot in return. I am super generous. Loyal to an absolute fault. There are toxic relationships that if given the chance, I would probably go back to, because I don’t know any other way. In a relationship I am more than honest and straightforward. I will never lie to you, and I will be brutally honest…at the sake of anything good. So I will have romantic problems my whole life, eh? Awesome. It probably IS my own fault. Oh hell, who am I kidding, of COURSE its my fault! Worry is my middle name.

I don’t know how to give up. I just don’t. I can’t let go. Of anything, of anyone. I think of people I was friends with 20 years ago, and wonder where they are, what theyre doing, wonder why we’re no longer friends. It almost always ends with me as the issue. I think I’m a smotherer. I’m not real sure.

Everyone flinch here, I’m gonna quote LOST:

Christian Shephard: The most important part of your life was the time that you spent with these people on that island. That’s why all of you are here. Nobody does it alone, Jack. You needed all of them, and they needed you.

Jack Shephard: For what?

Christian Shephard: To remember. And to… let go.

It’s not enough not to lie

You know how people say “Oh, everyone lies!”

I don’t. As in, I refuse.

I’ve lost ALOT of people over this.

Don’t ask me if your ass looks big in that…if it does, I’ll tell you.

Some people have commended me on my honesty.

Others, ran screaming. (Can’t honestly say I blame them.)

There was a time…we’ll say…up til about…five years ago, that there were some people I would…not be entirely…upfront…with. Lie to them? Never. But I held a LOT of stuff back. Mostly out of fear. Mostly out of fear they’d not talk to me again. (If you’re curious how that turned out, lets just say I have alot less friends these past 5 years…) I’ve always, always, been an honest person. I’ve never stole. I tell on myself. If you ask me my honest opinion, you’re going to get it. (So if you don’t really want to know, don’t ask me, it’ll save us both alot of time and arguing!)

I’ve always been a person who believes in “treat others the way you’d like to be treated.” Some people would probably argue with that. They’d tell me how “I wouldn’t like being talked to like that,” or some other protest. But in all honesty, I would. My biggest problem is that people DON’T tell me the truth. They don’t ness. lie, but they don’t offer up the truth.

I’ve heard “I didn’t want to tell you…” more times than I care to count. It’s usually followed by “because I thought you’d judge me.” Let me stop there and explain something. I don’t judge people. It’s not for me to judge. However. I do…reply. And I could see how someone would possibly think that was a judgement. But it’s not. I promise you.

I’ve always been honest with my husband. Always. We have the most open relationship on the planet. He tells me when girls are cute. I tell him when I find people attractive. I tell him everything on my mind, even stuff most people would never dream of telling their significant other. Things that might be brutal to hear. But I believe it is owed to him.

Once, I went on a spree of finding everyone I ever wronged, and telling them I was sorry. Whether it was through a face to face, a phone call, a letter. I wanted to be honest with them about whatever had went on. There’s a person here or there I’d still like to do that with, but don’t think I ever will. I’ve as of late opened my self up TOO much perhaps. (Is there such a thing? I’m sure most would agree there is a limit…)

I know I’ve come across at times as judgemental. Tactless. Blunt. Rude.

Is it sad that I’d rather have people be the same to me… I’d rather be “slapped with the truth than kissed with a lie.” I don’t want you to kiss my ass when I’m around and talk shit about me to whoever will listen. I want you to be straight up with me. I am straight up with you.

Does this mean I’ve never “talked behind someones back?” Hell no. Of course I have… hell…I’m probably alot more guilty of it than most, to be honest! But when I’m doing that, it’s to prep for later, when I talk to the person about that very thing. I ususually write things when I want to talk. My words in person get jumbled up, there is no backspace key when youre in real time. I cry. Alot. I cry when people yell at me. I always have. I look like I’d rip your head off, but if you yell at me, I will cry.

I know there are consequences for my truth. I was told once by someone that I needed to “stop not saying things…” so I did. And now they won’t talk to me. I did what they wanted, and they’re gone. I know that sometimes when you call me to vent, and I take up for you on your side, it makes you hate me for being against the person you’re complaining about. But I can’t help it.

This all probably came to be written because this afternoon me and my husband had another one of our talks. And I had told him a few things that I… not KEPT from him, just things that any NORMAL person would keep to themselves. I feel guilty for that. I feel guilty when I think something that I know would hurt someone. I have to tell them so I can ask their forgiveness. I don’t know what hurts more…the fact I had to tell them something probably best left unsaid, or the fact that I have to deal with the aftermath of knowing regardless I hurt the person. At least if I had kept whatever to myself, they’d be oblivious, right? They wouldn’t hurt. So maybe its selfish of me to be so honest. I don’t know.

I hate that my mind goes 24 hours a day at lightening speed, thinking up things I don’t want to think about, that make me feel guilty, that make me feel like I have to tell people, that makes them angry with me. I hate that people hate ME because I’m honest. Because of the WAY I’m honest. I can’t help it. I wonder if there is a name for it? Does it run with my OCD? That I LITERALLY have to tell the truth…it is an obsession.

I wonder if one day my truth will make me end up alone.

Theres alot of things I’ve said that should have gotten me to that point. Really, there is. I’ve said/done some things that I wish I never had. (Much like anyone else.) But do I really have to tell on myself afterwards? Most people are smart enough to leave it locked up, with a key. Me? I put that shit on billboards and set them on fire.

Honestly, sometimes it sucks to be honest.

I’m a dying breed.

Seriously.

This isn’t going to be a post about how much “better” I am than you. It’s a post about being different, therefore, not understanding…95% of people on the planet. And it’s got me into trouble/fights more than I care to count.

Maybe it started of as a religion thing. I can’t really be sure.

Sex wasn’t really something we talked about. I was brought up on horror and violence, but sex scenes were fairly taboo. Maybe that’s what started it.

Every therapist I’ve ever been to swears I was molested and I’m blocking out the memory, but I wasn’t.

I just believe that sex is not…how can I put it? Without it coming out wrong?

All my friends love sex. I even have a few in the addicted category. I’m not a prude by any stretch of the imagination. And before, I was skinny and somewhat confident, so it can’t be just from poor self esteem from weight gain. I just can’t handle the thought of people seeing me naked.

And I can’t wrap my head around (and here it is: ) multiple sex partners. No, I don’t mean, orgies. I don’t mean being in a relationship and cheating. I mean, as in, (oh boy…) ever.

Yep, did I lose you?

I can count the amount of people I have kissed on a hand..(and add a finger, I’ll be honest.) I can count the people I’ve been even REMOTELY intimate with on half a hand. And I can count the people I’ve been with sexually with my nose.

Yep. 31, and never been with more than one person.

No, this doesn’t mean I’m “better” than you. It means I can’t understand….most people.
I’m one of those people who get insanely attached. Fast. BOOM. Which luckily (hell, trust me, its also been UNLUCKILY!) means I’m loyal. Ridiculously. Loyal. (Any and all non loyalness stemmed from manic episodes, and even then, I never cheated.) This means a few things.

I can’t understand one night stands.

I can’t understand fuck buddies.

I can’t understand having “long term” (ie six month) relationships every six months.

I just can’t literally understand it.

I’ve been in two ACTUAL relationships in my whole life. One for a little under three years, one just hit fourteen. Yes, the math is shocking. Im 31, spent 17 years of that in long term relationships. (Like I said, that loyal thing…)

How do people go on to love 5 people in life? 10? They do. I see it all the time. Fourth marriages. Seven relationships that all last a few years.

HOW? Seriously…it’s kept me up at night, and kept me thinking for hours while I drive….

My brain would most likely explode.

I (seriously, shut up) looked into HYPNOTHERAPY to get the first guy outta my head. After seven years, I had had enough. At ten years I had to write a letter apologizing for my life because I felt it was owed. Its been 14 years now, and it’s still in daily thought. And yes, my husband is fully aware of such things. Because with my loyalness comes honesty…brutal honesty. Brutal because I have hurt many people in my quest to be honest. That’s for another post entirely…

So tell me, explain to me, help me understand, what would happen to people like me if I had say, 5 I loved? I would most likely be commited. I would lose my mind. (worse than I already have!) Two people ever in my life (and something else we wont go into here….) and I feel like that’s all that could ever fit. Ever. Like, if my husband died tomorrow (knock on wood of course) I literally would probably never be with someone again. ‘Oh sure you would!’ you say. No. HOW? How is there any more room left in my head?

So people think I’m a prude. Or that I’m weird. Or any other myriad of things. But I just feel….like it’s literally IMPOSSIBLE for me to ever be with more than one person. Don’t think I haven’t thought about this whole situation long and hard, I have. I think that’s why I cycle backwards. I’d have to go back to something I was familiar with, and that will not happen. Hopefully for me, we’ll be one of those couples that dies 15 hours apart after our 80th wedding anniversary…even though my husband swears he won’t make it past 45.

If that’s true, it’s going to be a long lonely road for me.

Sometimes (alot of times) I wish that I could be like everyone else, and that if the time came, I could move on. But something about it just won’t let me. Maybe I was born in the wrong era. Maybe my brain thinks it’s 1712. Sometimes being different really sucks.