Blinking cursors piss me off.
In the time that it takes for the cursor to appear, disappear, and then reappear before repeating the entire process, I’ve written three different blog posts in my head, each better than the last and none becoming anything more than another fleeting th0ught. Another Might Have Been.
I wonder if I share too much because I know the girl from high school I never felt cool enough to talk to is reading my words right along with family members with whom I’d rather not discuss the inside of my head. I wonder if I don’t share enough because this site isn’t about my comfort level. It’s about yours and making sure that you know that waiting to accept ourselves until we’ve reached some weight loss milestone or gotten that promotion is bullshit because if we don’t love ourselves this very minute then how will we feel worthy of the effort required to keep fucking trying?
And I wonder when I will share these words with my child. She’s the reason Girl Body Pride is here. Obviously she will not be sitting on my lap before the next episode of The Fresh Beat Band to have Mama narrate what could be mistaken as transcripts from therapy sessions but aren’t because writing the words just comes more naturally than speaking them. Although it might be a good idea to clue her in when she’s old enough to ask and mature enough to listen to and process the answers.
I’m not perfect. I never have been and I never will be. My head is a basketful of crazy with a heaping dose of severe ADHD, high anxiety, and a whole lot of body image issues thrown in because maybe writing non-fiction requires a bio with references to that twelve-step program and that therapist I’ll get around to calling one day. I am not the poster child for stability and Body Pride. At least not today. Or this month. But gimme a few weeks to pull myself out of this mental tar pit of disassociation, predictable mood swings, and sugar-coated self-sabotage and I am so your Girl because this is all about the journey, people.
You are the other reason Girl Body Pride is here.
You are still a rock star. You are still brilliant and beautiful and breath-taking.
Not me. Not right now. I know you (might) think I’m full of shit when I tell you how you are totally worth it and I am totally not because my head is not in that space right now. Or maybe you totally understand and feel exactly the same way and that’s why you are here. If we promise to keep reminding the other that we have every reason to give a damn and high five our reflections we might eventually start to believe the same for ourselves.
I will write variations of this very post numerous times. Most of them will only be written in my head in the time it takes for the cursor to blink because its so much easier to hide in the white space left in its wake. There are a few, though, like this one, that will become words on a screen. The tone will vary depending on which part of the manic merry go round I happen to be on when I hit Publish, but that’s also something I feel is important for this site to mean anything.
I’m not perfect. Sometimes I stop giving a shit and drown my sorrows in self-sabotage, fully aware that I’ll wake up one day (hopefully soon) and everything will be just fine again until it isn’t.
That’s just my cue to repeat the entire process.
Pauline Campos contributes to Funny Not Slutty, Owning Pink, and 30 Second Mom. She blogs three times a week at Aspiring Mama (or when she remember to take her Adderall) and is the founder of Girl Body Pride.
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