I am not thin. I am not straight. I am not married. I am not into fashion and shoes.
All these label-y, judgy definitions do, of course, is give my inner critic a great big shame boner, which she (yes, she) walks around showing off like it's a carnival prize. Check it out. Look at how little I let her think of herself!
Instead of saying I am not thin, I can acknowledge that I have never been thin, so it's not like I'm really missing anything. I mean, I was one of the kids in Sears trying on those horrid, stiff, blue-black "Husky" jeans for my parents' approval. I do not wish to be thin. Sure, I wouldn't mind being the 'thinner fat' that I was 10 years ago, but I've been through a hell of a lot in the past decade. I took out
The point of saying all of that is because I started to berate myself for not blogging since December. Shame Boner reminded me that I don't post a lot of pictures to Instagram, I tend to forget I have a Pinterest account, and I often have no idea what to tweet. Rather than letting those truly insignificant things roll of my wet feathers like so much oil, I marinate in guilt, as though the world is waiting for me to get better at social. Like I'm letting people down because I wasn't entirely sure until fairly recently what Tumblr is all about.
I've sort of solved my "say interesting things about myself online" problem: I've finished, for the time being anyway, a website where you can find out all kinds of neato things about me, including my background, links to published essays, and information about the spoken word CD I recorded with my dad. Eventually that site and this blog should roughly be in the same place. I'll soon be working with a
Oh look. It's a budding self-confidence boner. Shh! Don't scare it away.