An odd thing for me this week…

It’s strange when I become part of a support system for others through my infamy…. I hesitate to say famous b/c I still think of fame in grandiose terms, but I do garner a certain level of recognition around this and other communities.

This past week I have been contacted by roughly 18 women who asked for help, guidance, and styling tips after seeing my porn, model sets, and my goof off photos that have been posted to my various profiles here and on other community websites.

A lot of them state that they “struggle” with their confidence because of size, or stigma, or any number of personal hangups. In each and every case, they were allowing themselves to be defined by what others had said about them. If it was negative then they felt bad, if it was positive then it was good.

But if nothing was said then they had no idea how to feel.

That is the key to my confidence. I am the only person who defines how I feel. I take comments into consideration. For example if some random jackoff tells me I’m a fat pig, I put no stock into it. If the same random jackoff says that I’m the most beautiful thing ever, I wonder what he wants, b/c often if I reject the positive advance the negative follows shortly thereafter. Now, if someone I trust and care about says “That outfit looks awful on you,” I’m far more apt to listen and take that into consideration. However, if I still feel like a million bucks in the awful outfit, I’m still gonna rock the hell out of it.

But you have such a pretty face…

Gawd, do I hate that line. I get it mostly from my family. They want to say something nice without being overly down about my weight while still being condescending about it. It sucks. Every time I heard this growing up, I felt like slitting my wrists. (And no, that’s not hyperbole.) A few years back, I actually had it out with my mother. (My father had been long dead.) I told her that she had no right to say such disparaging things to me; that being “family” did not give her carte blanche to treat me like shit. I also told her that if she was any other jack-off in my life, she’d have been left behind long ago.

We didn’t speak for several months, almost a year. Not uncommon.

Now we are at a tenuous place in communication. She continues to be disparaging then apologizes when I ignore her. the periods of contact are longer than the periods of no contact.

I just find it amusing that I can be inspirational for so many, but that I am such a blight for her and my family. It’s hardly surprising, but that’s mostly b/c I’ve become immune to it. Now dealing with the family involves copious amounts of alcohol and frequent smoke breaks.

Really, this post should serve to remind people that the only person who can make you feel bad IS YOU.

Only you can define who you are and how you feel.

Don’t let anyone else tell you differently.

 
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