Jan. 4, 2012 at 11:23pm with 2 notes
healthfeminismbody chemistryi like myselffuck the patriarchymy stupid life
Taking up exercise has already improved my life so much. When I sit down to write and create, I have passion sessions (tm) rather than hours of stalling and dribble. It’s also easier for me to feel happy. Even if I get no awesome muscles and keep the same old squishy belly I’ve always had, I love working out because it just makes all the chemicals in my brain go nuts (in the good way), and then things hurt less including all of my feelings. And in case you haven’t noticed, I have too many feelings, so this is important. Today I looked in the body-length mirror at the gym and saw the same pimply face, un-styled hair, big shoulders, awkward hunch, stretch-marked boobs, and jelly belly I always see, but my body felt so good I automatically smiled and thought, “Yep, that’s me. I am strong and I feel good.” It’s not that I don’t see those things anymore when I exercise, I just no longer see them as anything that needs to be fixed. After all the illnesses, injuries, brain chemistry roller coasters, I still have five senses, two working arms, two working legs, and a mostly-harmonious nervous system. So, like, eff all this appeasing others with the way my strong, functional, one-of-a-kind-and-also-one-ever presence in this world happens to look.

Taking up exercise has already improved my life so much. When I sit down to write and create, I have passion sessions (tm) rather than hours of stalling and dribble.

It’s also easier for me to feel happy. Even if I get no awesome muscles and keep the same old squishy belly I’ve always had, I love working out because it just makes all the chemicals in my brain go nuts (in the good way), and then things hurt less including all of my feelings. And in case you haven’t noticed, I have too many feelings, so this is important.

Today I looked in the body-length mirror at the gym and saw the same pimply face, un-styled hair, big shoulders, awkward hunch, stretch-marked boobs, and jelly belly I always see, but my body felt so good I automatically smiled and thought, “Yep, that’s me. I am strong and I feel good.” It’s not that I don’t see those things anymore when I exercise, I just no longer see them as anything that needs to be fixed.

After all the illnesses, injuries, brain chemistry roller coasters, I still have five senses, two working arms, two working legs, and a mostly-harmonious nervous system. So, like, eff all this appeasing others with the way my strong, functional, one-of-a-kind-and-also-one-ever presence in this world happens to look.

  1. toomanyfeelings posted this