Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Giving Myself Permission To Suck

I remember there was a time (basically late childhood throughout adolescence until now at age 20) when I absolutely HATED taking pictures of myself. This mostly had to do with me being overweight and having it pointed out to me by every adult family member who commented how much weight I had gained or how much fat was showing on me. I rarely have any pictures of myself and the few that exist were taken without my permission or with extreme reluctance and a vow to never let a camera point my way again.

Here's a truth you probably didn't know about me. I'm fat. And I'm not just saying that to garner your sympathy the way some girls do to make themselves feel better. No, this is a real issue for me here. Last physical (summer '09) had me at 213 lbs and usually when I weight myself I hover around 208-210 lbs. I plan to lose almost 90 lbs within a year--even have a bet with my mom to lose 50 lbs by next summer with $500 as part of the reward. Anyways, there were days when I couldn't even bare to look into the eyes of my own reflection because I just felt so embarrassed and ashamed. I'd stare at the fat Korean girl inside the glass and want to wish her away. I never felt pretty or beautiful despite what others would say to me.

These past two years in college have taught me that I am the only one responsible for my health and life. That I need to love myself first and that it's okay to be my own person. I want to make up for being scared to make memories and visual evidence that there was a time when I felt disgusted with the way I looked.

Yes, I am fat. My eyebrows need to waxed and plucked. I am wearing the same glasses since seventh grade. No my hair hasn't been straightened or blow dried or doused with chemicals. But I'm still okay with myself. Little by little over the weeks and months, I'll work to change myself because I want to and that it's time to acknowledge my own beauty. I'm not scared to be who I am.

Whew. This post was actually supposed to be about how I am almost done with my short story. I was originally going to spend this summer writing at least THREE stories but with the summer almost done and just cranking out the first draft on this one NOW. . .well you can see how I fared. I think I was scared that my writing would suck. That I wouldn't be able to write a fun story. A gripping story. But then I thought--who cares? Seriously, who gives a fuck? Of course I'm going to suck and not be great. I've only started to take writing seriously. To slowly orbit my life around the craft of writing.

But I'm damn well going to have fun. I'm going to enjoy letting the words rush across the blank document in order to tell a story.

I have a personal goal of writing 10 stories before I graduate to make sure that this isn't a fluke of some sort. More on this in a different post.

Good night!

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