Self worth and body image

Part of writing this blog was to provide an outlet for processing my thoughts that don't necessarily require being written old school. I do have a journal that Sir gave me, a couple of months into dating that I use on a regular basis when I'm trying to figure out life problems, or simply issues that don't belong on the inter-connected-webs. The topic I'm writing about tonight could easily fall into either category, the blog or my journal. But I decided what the hell, I'll just throw it out there for everyone to see.

Like most women, growing up I didn't think that I was super attractive. I had awkward glasses, I was socially awkward, not interested in what my peers were doing, but incredibly jealous of the "skinny bitches" around me. I swam competitively and so was in fairly good shape, but because of my undiagnosed gluten allergy my good shape was hidden for the most part under a layer of fat that I just couldn't seem to loose. I graduated high school early at 16 and went to a large state university in my home town for my first year of college. I've always had the dis/advantage (depending on how you look at it) of looking 4-6 years older than I actually am most of the time and was naturally curvy, and it was my freshman year of college that I discovered that I could use it to my advantage. Because of my family dynamic, the fact that I always preferred classic books over YA novels, and because my own social insecurities around people my own age, I discovered that men several years older were interested in me. And yeah, I had some of the normal super skeezy types, the ones who just wanted to date a younger woman, but there were one or two who dated me more because I could carry on a conversation about political theory and the current day events instead of my age.

At some point it became a goal of mine to date only older men, and by older I mean at least 5 years. I preferred them between 5-15 years older, but I could work on either side of that age limit if necessary. And following the original goal, I decided that I wanted to become eye candy for older gentlemen, a courtesan of sorts if you will. And so I met my first serious interest, Mr. X, who saw me numerous occasions in the three or so years that we knew each other. He definitely pushed the age barrier, and at 59 was 40 years older than me. But I enjoyed his company. We discussed everything from religion to politics, D/s to travel. He was an entirely fascinating gentleman who could always be trusted to provide me with an excellent dinner and conversation over a glass of wine. I looked good on his arm, and he opened my eyes to a more sophisticated world. We worked well together. Despite him never having an issue with what I looked like though, I always felt enormous. The year that he and I met I was down to eating maybe one meal a day, smoking copious amounts and living off of coffee and diet coke. I dropped 4 sizes in one semester and still felt large. The self confident issues never went away, they just hovered under the surface waiting to pop up. After Mr. X came several others, none of them nearly as interesting as Mr. X, but not entirely dull either. But because they were all 40 or older, and I had a harder time dating men my own age, I just assumed that because I had some curves I wasn't appealing to men my own age.

And they did pop up again. Because of some transfers between colleges I ended up a sophomore again during my 4th year of college. And it was my 4th year of college that things started going down hill again. I had stopped eating really even that one meal a day, spent several hours a day at the gym, consumed a pot of coffee before my 10.30 class in the morning, and was well on my way to becoming a chain smoker. But I had never looked better in my mind. Some things had happened the spring of my fourth year that I was trying to forget and it was through the gym, coffee, cigarettes, the occasional forced vomiting, etc that I coped with them. What did it matter that my rib cage was starting to show through clearly, or that I was having a hard time sleeping at night and was experiencing pains commonly associated with being malnourished and starving. I looked good, still thought that I was huge and had weight to loose, but hell, people were saying that I looked good.

And that continued until I met my husband. When he and I met Mr. X and I were still seeing each other, I was still for the most part avoiding food, although I added in quite a bit of alcohol to my diet, and I was working out almost constantly. As he and I were getting to know each other, I ended up having less time to work out, because I wanted to spend that time with him. And so I started putting on weight, little bits here and there. The winter after we met I went on the GAPS diet to restore some order to my poor system and lost the weight again, but after going off the GAPS diet I gained it back pretty quickly. He didn't care though. He thought that I was beautiful, and he loved every inch of my body. So I let it be. And things continued, and I continued to gain weight. Never in an unhealthy way, but just in a way that made me uncomfortable. At some point I stopped letting him buy me lingerie because I was horribly embarrassed by the weight in my thighs and stomach. Things got super busy my last year of college, I was planning a wedding, finally dealing with what had happened a couple of years back, writing my senior thesis, and planning to move across the country. It was all I could do to keep my head afloat, exercise just wasn't really a part of the equation. And the weight would come off a little bit, then go back on, and back and forth.

Flash forward little over a year after graduation and it's now been little over three months since I've given birth. Being pregnant was probably the only time in my life that I was ever ok with my body, and ok with the weight gain. But now that I've given birth I've lost the one place in which it was acceptable to carry a bit of extra weight. Even with eating well and exercising the fact of the matter remains that I gained more weight than I wanted to while pregnant. And now I'm having to deal with it. But because I can't hide behind my pregnancy any longer every single self image issue and size problem has come back with a vengeance. I have stretch marks on my tummy, hips, and thighs. I have an awkward pooch on my tummy, and saddle bags that I've never had before. Hell, even my pussy feels enormous and huge. The hubby is wonderful and swears up and down that I'm desirable and sexy and beautiful. And I'm sure he's telling the truth, but I can't see it. I look in the mirror and see someone who has bumps in weird places, who can't fit into her old pants, and who looks like hell.

I'm not sure what the worst part is, feeling fat and ugly, or wondering if I'm actually sexually attractive to Sir any longer. Selfishly I wish that I wasn't breastfeeding so that I could go back on my old method of loosing the weight; the "Coffee, cigarettes, and gym diet". But even then, because of who we've become it wouldn't work. We've committed to raising little bug in a smoke free zone. And Sir wouldn't be ok with it. So I feel stuck. Tonight he went down on me, and it was like a dead zone down south. Maybe it was his skill? But I feel like it was because I felt so unattractive while he was eating me out. All I could think about was the size of my thighs, the fact that my pussy is all puffy and the bulge of a tummy that I now have. Yuck, who wants to go down on that.

I don't know what to do to fix this.