Never Satisfied

I’m one of those broads that is never satisfied.  Mostly never satisfied with myself.  Sometimes it’s real and sometimes it is negative self-talk that makes no sense.  I’m honest about my own dishonesty.  I just don’t know it’s bullshit until it’s after the fact. But whatever.

Today I’m not satisfied with my weight.  It’s 6 in one hand, half dozen in the other.  The scale says ugly things about me so I’m just going to stop talking to it for a while.  My gut…Lawd Jeebus, the gut is so out of order that I wouldn’t even let anybody see me nekkid.  (Well…maybe….)  The booty is still proper.  I don’t want to lose too much of that because I want to have enough for folks to look at when I’m walking.  (Yes I do put a little something extra in the walk when a brother is walking behind me.  Give ‘em a little sum’sum to look at.)  Thighs need some work but all I need is a skirt to the knees and a few calf raises and I’ll be just fine from the waist down. 

Skin needs a lot of work.  I was doing sooooo well and then bam!  My skin erupted like violence.  I would be insulting my grandmother if I said I was ugly but Stevie damn sure ain’t singing “Isn’t She Lovely” to my ass right now.  I’ve been wearing makeup every day to make me feel better – look better, feel better – but I need to do something about this shit STAT.

So where is all this self-criticism coming from THIS TIME?  Could be that I’m man-less and I think that nobody is going to want a fat, pimply broad.  Could be that I went out on a date and he never called me again.  Could be that I’m looking dead at turning 40 and I’m sick of dealing with the same shit over and over.  Could be that I’m a shallow bitch.  Could be that I don’t FEEL good about how I look.  Could be that I know that if I don’t like the way I look I won’t really be as confident in myself as I should be.   Insecurity is about as sexy as bitterness.  As in NOT sexy.

Truth is, I am dabomb.com.  If you don’t believe me, ask my friends.  I’m surrounded by people that affirm me.  I am LOVED and respected.  I have people that lift me up, tell me that I’m wonderful, and make me feel good about myself.  They give me energy when I’m running on fumes.  They encourage me.  They motivate me.  They kick my ass.  They leave me alone when I need “me” time.  They tell me what I need to hear…and sometimes, what I want to hear (sometimes it’s okay to lie). They love me when I don’t love myself. 

Hell, I need to call somebody right now and hear something good about myself.