1) Let’s begin with c-section scar Shelf-O-Fat. Sweet baby Jesus, does that thing ever smooth out or will my stomach always look like the letter “B” from the side? My children are 11, 14, and 17 and I am so over this scar and the weird B of fat-indentation-fat.
2) Related concern: The women who want to tell me in low, soothing voices that my scars and the subsequent lack of smoothness are battle scars or a reminder that my womb was a sacred place that brought life into this world. Holy cow. Stop. I’m just tired of the weird bulge, especially with flat front pants. You all can embrace your sacred c-section scars, but I am over this foolishness.
3) The I-know-I-Shouldn’t-Care-But-I-Do-Care thinking regarding clothing sizes. The number or letter does matter to my ego, even though I know it shouldn’t and, yep, I know that clothing manufacturers routinely fuck with our heads with these size tags and, again, I know that it shouldn’t matter to me, but damn it, it does so FML.
4) The struggle of the short torso and long legs. Anyone else feeling me on this one?
5) Related rant: When will women’s jeans be sized with a fucking inseam? I feel like I spend a lot time trying to find the inseam measurements when shopping online, which, incidentally, is all I will do. I could have completely reorganized my sock drawer in that amount of time. Maybe the t-shirt drawer too.
6) Additional related rant: The fitting rooms in stores. I haven’t visited one in years and I’m not sorry. They are the realm of linty carpet and unflattering lighting. So, yes, thank you, I’ll carry on with my first world problem of trying to find inseam lengths while shopping online. Thank you very much.
7) Intermittent Fasting: Eating disorder or healthy change of lifestyle? I’ve been doing IF for about 3 weeks now and I’m wondering if I’m just a step ahead of the inevitable after-school special on this topic, Children, IF Also Means Intensely FUBARed. However, doing IF has helped me lose weight and I feel a lot more energetic. So there’s that.
8) Cue the folks who want to cheerfully tell me to “well, ask your doctor if IF is right for you!” Girl, are you familiar with the concepts of co-pays and wildly inconvenient appointment times? I’m just letting myself worry about IF’s health affects while I’m getting dressed and checking out the not-smooth-at-all front of my pants. (Still perseverating on that, btw.)
9) The sprouty whiskers appearing on my chin. An honorable mention also goes to the suddenly abundant hairs growing in my nostrils. There’s the hot wax and the pain. The trimming with tiny scissors. And the fact that I just reluctantly typed the word “nostril,” which may follow “moist” as one of the grossest words EVER in the English language. WHEW. Goddamn. I need to lay down now.
I’m going to ride the Courage Bus here by not making this a ten item list. And foreal now, typing anything regarding the two holes in my face above my mouth and below my eyes has me sweating and shaky and wondering about menopause. (“Ask your doctor! Yay!”) The struggle is real and verified with this nonsense.
Thanks for reading, friends.
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