Monday, 13 May 2013


When you look in the mirror, do you look at yourself and say “You deserve a pie!” Do you suck in and tilt your hips back so that your eyes can make believe that this particular stance is only natural, as is the newly tucked fat-back that ripples beneath your shirt? Are you constantly contorting your limbs, the ever so popular Iphone camera pointing its #nofilter lens back at you?

Sometimes I really wonder what I look like, both wide-screen and zoomed in on. What if I stood straight didn’t pucker my lips and tilt my head? Would I still look good if I didn’t take the glare off my forehead, or add a few extra shades of glow to my skin? Forget the red-eye converter, the sepia tone, and the black and white alterations. Don’t judge me just because you noticed every image I own is cropped mid-level. I don’t question what your face looks like even though half of it is sliced out in every photo you have online.

I look at the mannequins in the mall, fucking skinny jeans everywhere. And yes, I own a few pairs- and I’m sure they are pulling just a little to tight in the crotch area, but I got to get in the system. Sure, I’m ten pounds from where I want to be, but hell if that will stop me from attempting to try on a maxi-dress in size 2. I don’t care if my breasts are going to look smashed, isn’t that trendy now?

It’s kind of funny though, counting calories and exercising. When I was younger my waist didn’t bake muffins and my thighs didn’t roll-in-the-deep. It’s weird to look at a reflection and wonder exactly how all those pieces ended up that way. Even during the moments I’m pining away for some sort of miracle-suction-technique, I ask myself…how exactly did you let this happen? I mean it’s weird right? Your metabolism is one crazy ass bitch!

When it comes down to the body, it has its own set of rules and regulations. For instance: Eating Healthy does not necessarily equal Weight Loss/ Avoiding sweets—that’s going to suck regardless and so far doesn’t launch success/ Working your ass off in the gym (swimming, running, crunching) still means you’re fat/ If you buy any new clothes, the dryer will rip us off/ You are going to be bloated if you eat ANYTHING: the end.

So yea, what’s a good strategy for a fatty cell infested body? One word would be motivation- even better though- a skinny partner. Nothing will make you feel even guiltier for eating a cookie when your husbands two legs equal one of your own. I may be on the point of exaggeration for some elements of this monologue, but shit gets real when the weather gets warm and a beach vacation seems eminent.

At this point, its time to stop living half a life, get my junk out of the trunk and into the trashcan. Cliché or touché, either way exercise is a bit of a douche!

-Peace from the East


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