Posts Tagged ‘imperfect and proud of it’

A Beautiful Disaster

 

When I first saw him.. I really think I saw him. I didn’t see what I wanted to see. I didn’t see what other people thought him to be. I didn’t see what other’s would expect me to see in him. I didn’t see in him what his own family would see in him. I didn’t see him how he would of wanted me to see him. I saw into him; I saw his soul. What I saw was the little boy in him walking hand in hand with the wise old man in him.. I saw his essence. That is what I will keep; what I will hold onto..but now that I think about it or feel about it.. more that I feel about it. I will hold in my heart.. all of his darkness as well.

I will hold in my heart his darkness or his shadows because this is the beautiful disaster that tore me apart.. when he said I was paranoid and a victim.. when I could see him looking at my bikini clad body.. taking in all of my flaws to weigh and measure them.. when he didn’t acknowledge my beauty ..see my womanly charms but instead he saw my imperfections.. while I saw past his and into his heart. But is it only his darkness or mine as well..because how could I feel love and attraction to man whom I obviously somehow repelled .. or did I ? Is he right? I am living out my inner victim..am I paranoid to think this..to feel this.. am I the beautiful disaster? Or is he?

I know I saw him but did he even see me? Or did he see what he thought he saw.. what he came to see and expected to see before he looked into my eyes? Did he really even look? Who did he see when he looked into my eyes..I don’t think it was me that he saw..but what he expected me to be..but was he right in his expectations of me..?

When I put on my lip gloss.. he became annoyed .. just so slightly annoyed.. not excited or sensualized..but ever so slightly angered ..as if I was using it as a ploy? Or am I just being paranoid?

I don’t mind that he is right..because he is right. I am flawed.. I am a woman.. chaotic ..passionate.. unreasonable from time to time.. and a mystery even to myself.. as even I still go deeper into depths within that I haven’t explored that scare the shit out of me.

The little boy in him is silly to think he has all the answers.. so innocent to think or see women as black and white… that we could be so easy to read..but just maybe all the rest were just that.. I don’t know?

But I do know that he doesn’t define me.. as I am always re-birthing myself.. he doesn’t define me as no man has or ever will..as I am constantly just getting to know myself.. he told me I was lowering myself to victim levels.. yet I like the depths were I go.. I like to be both high and low.. as are most women.. we are multi-faceted .. sometimes, hot, cold and now and then we are warm.. warm hearted.. hot blooded.. and icy cold when we are judged by other’s who refuse to see their own flaws..

Yet I am not bitter.. because I rise in love.. I rise in the love that I felt for him before he spoke a word.. not just a word that dropped from his lips..but the words from his body and eyes; that told of his thoughts upon my heart, body and soul.. I rise in the love that even through his innocent blundering.. I could still see the treasure in him.. and I am peaceful and calm in the knowing that he didn’t really know what he was doing..

His uptight manor.. his posture so stiff and rigid .. the protection of his heart and feelings.. protected from a woman who was too open..too vulnerable.. too sensual.. too honest.. too real.. he wasn’t there for that.. he was there for business.. he was there to see if I would with walk with my head in the clouds with him.. he wasn’t there to be pulled to earth and made to see that.. all that glitters isn’t gold.. he didn’t come to meet a woman holding her heart wide open..to see a soul wide open.. he came for pleasant talk..and pleasantries.. polite conversation.

Instead he found a flawed, beautiful disaster.. or was it he ?

But he wins..or did I let him win..or are we both wrong and right.. because their really isn’t any wrong or right..there is only perspective..and every human is fabulously flawed..

But I will keep the spark in my heart, of the love.

Too fat and fucked up to be his girlfriend

 

Doesn’t seem to matter what a woman does, it’s just not good enough for many men. It seems to me many guys have this make-believe perfect, weird science bitch living in their heads. I think she is different for most men; but she has similar traits expressed by most men. First off she is calm and kind ( a push over ) and she has the perfect body type. She isn’t too tall or too short; she isn’t too muscular or too thin.. and she never ages. She never gets mad and she does what he expects her to do without having to be told what to do.. she just knows exactly what he wants ( mind reader ) she is a lady in public but a sex freak in private for him.. but not too freaky least she should make him feel insecure ( that she may of had better than him or that he isn’t enough to satisfy her ). She doesn’t ever upstage him.. she gives him all the glory and the limelight .. she worships him and treats him like a GOD.

I am not her. I have my good moments I guess ???…but I have a temper..my temper is like a summer storm; it’s hot, fast and then it blows over just as fast.. makes you wonder if it even happened at all. I am short, I can be shy and then I can be a show off. I like the little bit of fat on my tummy.. it’s just a little bit..but I find it feminine. I am fit and I think fabulous but I am not a bodybuilder chick.. I train for strength and conditioning..but I am the one who will save us all from the zombies when they attack. I am not going to starve myself or go on ultra strict diets to please men or any man.I like my curves and my muscle.. I am aging and I am going to do that gracefully. I am not going to lie about my age and I am not going to feel shame about my body changing.. I am not going to compete with other women for a man’s attention of affections.. I have too much dignity and self-respect to jump through hoops like a trained poodle to coddle some guys ego.I am strong willed and strong minded.. I don’t want some guy in my head taking up all my intellectual space .. I have better things to think about then what the fuck he might be thinking about..

It’s so ironic that people preach about being authentic when they are too chicken shit to be truly authentic..being authentic means accepting your imperfections.. if they be physical or personal..

I just cannot imagine ever being in another relationship with a man who has to pick me apart to feed his own fragile ego.. I was married to a guy like that.. always looking over the fence to see how much greener the grass was.. because he wasn’t taking care of our relationship or putting his full intentions into our relationship..and I find that most of the single divorced men my age still haven’t taken full ownership of doing that themselves in their last relationships.. yet they say ” My ex wife was a bitter angry woman ” my thoughts on this ” Yes I bet she was since you were always comparing her to that make-believe, weird science bitch that lives in your head.. and you were always comparing her to every perfect looking or seemingly perfect woman that walked by.. yes I bet she was right pissed off at your shit ” I am thinking as he sits beside me on our coffee, meet up date..and he weighs and judges me with his eyes.. seeing something or hearing something from me that just doesn’t look or sound perfect enough.. because I am too short.. or my hair is the wrong color or length.. my boobs are not perky enough.. my teeth are not strait enough and I have a blemish on my chin… I am bloated because it’s the first day of my period..and no, I don’t want to body build and shred my body fat to look like the bitch in his head…

I wonder how many men have passed up some pretty damn amazing women because they can’t get past their own bullshit and insecurities..because they are getting older, and fatter and shorter.. because things are sagging on them…and their male hormones are making them softer..they just ain’t as hard as they used to be.. I think if they came to their own acceptance and grew the fuck up.. they would find that imperfections are uniqueness ..and character.. imperfections are endearing .. and imperfections are sexy ..

So I guess I need man who just as fucked up as I am… I am sure he going to be sexy as hell.

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