Tuesday, June 12, 2012

What is it about a Man?




What is it about a man that can make a woman love him, hate him, then love him all over again all in the same hour? Could it be the sweet reminiscence of the honorable times producing smiles which are then back doored by the thoughts of harsh disagreements causing raging bitterness? Maybe it’s the misunderstanding of a man’s perspective towards the delicate emotions of the female being or a lack on his part to make an effort to try and inspect a woman’s mind and inquire of her heart so that he may be able to meet her emotional needs? Is it the safety of a felt covering of a more dominate figure in her life that keeps her lingering around with a grin of satisfaction stemming from the depths of her soul? Most definitely it might be the occasional, sweet “just because” gestures that make her feel like the queen she knows she already is. All in all, a woman knows that she was made for a man and a man knows that she was created for him. No matter the good of one, or the bad of the other it remains that history will be made over and over again. The hellos, goodbyes, and sweet nights of what is categorized by the world as relationships go on and on, cycle after cycle. One will probably never know what it is about a man that a woman loves to hate, or hates to love but all in all the same remains

Monday, June 4, 2012

Brick House



Big, brown, baby doll eyes slightly slanted at the corners interrogate a reflection that is so easily loved to be hated. Even though the mindset is more mature now, and the jiggle thighs of a twenty something year old is more appreciated than in high school and years past, the voluptuous, brown sugar, brick house of a woman still tugs and pulls at the more fleshy areas of her body while trying to decide on whether or not to place herself in debt for the price of instant weight loss. A true beauty she is and always has been. A full bust accentuates a noticeable waistline, deep curves befall her sides. Hips made for bearing babies protrude out of thick and shapely thighs with a little dainty cellulite sprinkled across the flesh atop her hamstrings. Her pudgy belly only serves as a mild insecurity compared to the wide and rounded rump resting firmly in mid air, a balancing factor to her own scale of physical judgment. She remembers all of the taunting as a child, the smart remarks. She remembers the nights she spent crying as a teen while violently vomiting her dinner into the porcelain receptionist in hopes of losing a pound. She thinks back a year ago on the severe allergic reaction to a small yet promising diet pill which landed her in the hospital near her death bed. Still, she wants freedom from the stereotypical world of “Fat”. Fed up with the indecisiveness rolling through her brain, the voluptuous beauty slaps both her meaty thighs one last time, watching them jiggle as she walks to the microwave and pulls out four leftover fried chicken legs and cornbread. She removed the paperwork from her surgeon’s consultation visit and reviews as she regretfully devours her midnight snack.

Most women never allow the thought of overeating being an act of self retaliation to soak into their mindset. Of course we all know that society labels women who cannot squeeze into a size 7 basically plus size and for the most part unattractive so it would be effective to go into those details. The main focus would be the mindset of the woman who does consider herself beautiful but subliminally takes the fury of not being up to par with glamour’s standards out on herself. From experience, I would be one to know what it feels like to be ridiculed because of being a less than “fit” child to having an ideal body during my late teens then succumbing to sudden weight gain as a young adult. In my room, in my bed, it was never really about the person who made me feel like I was less than human, but it was about me who grew to hate myself for allowing the weight gain to happen in the first place. While looking in the mirror, disgust grew into hatred due to a mixture of other things about myself I despised which had nothing to do with my physique. Instead of trying to fix the unhealthy problem both physically and mentally, I chose to batter myself with even more overeating. This is not to be confused with enjoying “comfort food” due to stress because crash diet after diet I literally wanted myself pay for what I had allowed myself to become which was from a high esteemed respected sexy and fit young lady, to a disrespected and disregarded pile of fat in my own eyes. Complain led to complaint until a good friend with a perfect body basically broke it down that if I did not like the way I looked then I either needed to do something about it, or learn to love it and live with it. I eventually chose both by seeing my family doctor for weight loss monitoring but in the process learned to love my thickness and embrace it. I do not shun surgery or pills because I believe to each her own, we just need to honestly be in tune with ourselves and make sure we are doing what we are doing for the right reasons because it can make a big difference in the mental outcome.

“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full.”
Psalm 139:14