Forgiving Myself November 24, 2010Posted by jeneypeney in 30 days of truth, girl problems, life, love bites, wishing and dreaming.
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30 Days of Truth: Day 3
Something You Have to Forgive Yourself For
Wow. This is going to be hard to publish.
I’ve known for a long, long time that I am my own worst enemy.
I am constantly setting the bar absurdly high for myself and I never fail to berate the failure inside me for not achieving those ridiculous goals I set. I am, simply, too hard on myself.
As most of you will remember, I went through a severely self-destructive point in my life where I made awful, terrible life choices that still haunt me to this very moment. While I know the reasons I even took these leaps into the dark and dangerous were not my fault – they were still my choices to make.
I have never – ever – forgiven myself for putting myself into those situations.
And now I have this wonderful, loving, and absolutely perfect man in my life who loves the shit out of me, and I can’t help but think I don’t deserve him; that he should have a woman in his life that is less damaged and used. I am plagued by the feeling that someday all of my transgressions will finally hit him (although he knows about them already), and he’ll realize I am no good for him… or anyone else.
Those feelings? Those stupid mistakes I made years ago? That is what I need to forgive myself for. I have to reach deep down inside and find it in my heart to know that it is all in my past and I cannot change it. Every stupid choice and every regret has shaped me into the woman who The Actual asked to marry him – that this woman is no longer broken and is worthy of love and affection and all that shmoopy bullshit that comes with it.
I have to forgive myself for those desperate mistakes I made. They may have been the worst ones – but they weren’t the only ones. And they certainly won’t be the last.
Photoshop my ass! (…please?) July 5, 2010Posted by jeneypeney in all growed up, femme writes, girl problems, life, piss and moan, pop culture, the 'f' word.
On the 5th of every month, bloggers from around the world are open to write about rights and issues concerning women. First started by Shine and Marie, we’re hoping to bring a variety of women’s issues to the forefront to make people aware of what’s going on. For the month of July, we’ve chosen to write about Body Image. Please join us in telling us your stories, thoughts, and ideas on a monthly basis. To read previous installments, click here.
I am not going to lie, I have struggled with my own body image for as long as I can remember. But at the same time, I’ve been absolutely fascinated with the theory of it. I even spent the majority of my junior and senior year of college researching the effects of alcohol and liquor advertising on women’s self-body image for my undergraduate thesis.*
I took a class called Theory of Female Beauty my senior year where we had one assignment in which we all had to select a picture of ourselves and manipulate it to make ourselves “ideal” and “ugly”.
This is the photo I started with:
This is what happened when I gave myself more make-up, bigger boobs, more blonde hair, and smoother skin:
And for a good laugh, this is what I did to make myself “ugly”:
Pretty ridiculous, huh?
To be completely frank, there is absolutely no reason for me to have issues with how my body looks. I am 5’2″, about 130 lbs, with 35, 31, 39 measurements. But when I look in the mirror every morning? I see a less than perfect woman staring back at me who could use a chin reduction and a couple hundred more sit-ups at the gym.
And the most frustrating and infuriating part about this? I hold a minor in Women’s Studies from a prestigious all women’s college. I know this “perfect figure” we are all chasing after is as realistic as sparkly vampires and horcruxes. I know all those magazine covers are photoshopped to high hell and back. I know this.
Ladies and gentlemen, we all know this.
I really wish I had some sort of earth-shattering and mind-blowing way to end to this post – but there is nothing I can say that has not been said before…
Just take a close look at the images I posted – and remember them the next time you see Charlize Theron or Matthew McConaughey looking all sexy and perfect on a magazine cover. It didn’t take millions of hours at the gym and a diet of Fiji water and carrots to look like that – it took a couple clicks and a few brush strokes.
*If anyone wants to read all the mumbo-jumbo I wrote, presented, and defended – shoot me and e-mail and I can send it to you.
Why working in athletics sucks sometimes… June 15, 2010Posted by jeneypeney in femme writes, girl problems, i wish i was still in college, i'm a moron, life, piss and moan, post grad dilemma, sports, the 'f' word, women's writes, workin girl.
I had originally wanted to write this for Femme Writes, but I am obviously a whole ten days behind the deadline. However, something happened this past week that I have to address.
I’m a sports nut.
I have a box with a football, softballs, glove, volleyball, basketball, soccer ball, hand pump, and softball bat in my trunk – just in case.
I refuse to make plans on Sundays during football season because, duh! The game is on!
The Actual actually has issues watching sporting events with me because I get so worked up (“What the hell was that?! My dog could have caught that goddamn football!” “Who in their right mind would swing at that shit?! Worthless!”).
I also happen to be lucky enough to work in the same area I am so passionate about – athletics. And although the role of women in athletics (especially collegiate athletics) has continually increased over the past several decades, my particular field (equipment) is severely lacking in the double X chromosome department.
I was in Tennessee last week for a conference where I was one of maybe about a couple dozen women in a sea of over 500 athletic equipment managers. That, doubled with fact that I was a new, young face in the crowd, meant I kind of, sort of stuck out. (Best pick up line of the week? “We may be in Tennessee, but you’re the only ten-I-see!”)
Being a woman in the athletic work field, I have become used to the off-hand comments and subtle belittling that comes with it; it all just makes me work harder.
But this week, I was shaken so bad at one of my seminars that I almost spent the rest of the day in my hotel room.
You see, I was in a seminar called ‘Helpful Hints’, which consisted of us equipment managers sharing our own hints and shortcuts for the group. I decided to get up and share my ‘hint’ about donating the hotel toiletries athletes leave in their travel bags to battered women’s shelters or homeless shelters in town. I ended my hint by saying, “If you have a SAAC, you should get them involved as well.”
Of course, considering the room was full of 99% men, they heard me say, “If you guys have a sack, get them involved!”
For the remainder of the conference, I was known as the girl who talked about sacks in the Helpful Hints meeting. I was absolutely mortified. Not because I unintentionally mentioned a man’s private parts (Lord knows I do that intentionally on a normal basis), but because no one would drop the damn subject for the rest of the week.I had lost credibility because of my verbal slip.
I can’t help but wonder if the same thing would have happened if I had been a man and actually had a sack of my own?
I am just as intelligent, talented, and damn good at my job as any of those men in my association. I can talk sports and understand the metaphors just as well as the next ass hat out there. Just because I have a vagina does not mean they have the right to ridicule me because I stated something with a double meaning.
You can all take your sacks and kiss my skirted ass.