Category Archives: music

#ImNoAngel

I had a dream the other night, one that had the sleeping me feeling so light and joyous, so much so that after I woke and cleared the cobwebs from my brain, I was still feeling the lingering happiness from it. I remember smiling as I swung my legs out of bed, my feet hitting the floor before starting my morning. I don’t know if anyone else has ever experienced a dream as completely as I did that night? I can only hope that you have, or will.

What was the dream? (It’s going to sound very narcissistic, but I promise its not!) I was, in my dream, my minds eye, so happy and thrilled with the look, share, and contours of my body, but most especially my stomach. The dream me had a flatter stomach, shapely thighs, and a waist that curved the way it’s supposed to.

After my feet hit the floor, still riding on that sleep high, I walked into the bathroom and turned on the light, looking at myself critically. The difference was, this time I was more accepting of myself. Was this a result of the dream? Or was it a result of a challenge that a friend gives me every once in a while while we are at lunch, having me name one thing I love about myself that day? Or was it me finally listening to my own words that I share with others, trying to get them to change their way of thinking? I don’t know. Was I happy with my body when I looked in the mirror that morning? No, not 100%. I know I have room for improvement, but its nice to not be as repulsed as I once was. I am still a work in progress.

Then this morning, checking my email before crawling out of bed to start my day, there was an email from Lane Bryant with their new campaign, #ImNoAngel, designed to represent the beautiful, amazing, real, average woman whose size falls in the spectrum larger than a 10. The #ImNoAngel message was beautiful put:

Some say

That sexy is defined

In just one way

But I say

It’s how I feel

It’s who I am

I’m all woman

A symbol of confidence

Who writes her own rules

And sometimes breaks them too

I’m beautiful

From my soul out to my skin

Loving every part of me

No matter what I’m in

I’m a woman

Unique and complete

I break the mold

Throw out the old

I’m all kinds of sexy

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Masks II

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I’m a coward. Oh, I’m full of big talk when other people need my help, ask my opinion, or just need a good shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen, but when it comes to letting people know me? Not the top layer, but the real me that lies deep below the surface? Oh, no, I can’t let people get to know the real me. What will they think? Will they like this me? Hell, most of the time I don’t like that me, why would I ever think someone else would? I keep her hidden under so many masks that make up small parts of me…

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I know that the different masks that I hide behind are all parts of me, little snippets that I share here and there when I am finally comfortable enough with someone to let them in. I have a mask that I wear for my family, it’s one that is supposed to remain strong, that hides the fears and sorrows that I don’t want to share. This mask is made of a thick clay. It has survived so much, but like anything else, with time it has begun to crack, and I fear what will happen if it one day falls apart.

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Another mask that I wear, one that more people are getting to see and know, is my mask of creativity. Again, those damn insecurities about my writing, my singing, my expressionism, they hide behind a mask that is thin, like fine china, where you can see the light shining through it. It wouldn’t take much to break that one.

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The top most mask is the one I share with everyone. Only a select few get beneath this one. It is my shield. My line of defense against everything that comes at me. It holds truths about me, but it guards so many more. 9d31cb97bb2b71021afba95b798e41b2

How do I decide who to share the truth with? Oddly enough, the anonymity of this blog has been the most telling and revealing of the real, raw me there is. Its in writing this that I am trying to love myself. I remember writing enough blog post about masks over a year ago, and when I was rereading it just now, its odd to see how little has changed, and what masks I still hide behind. You can read that earlier post here. I try to face the darkness that hides in me, facing it dead on , and sharing it.

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