The courage it took me to say "I'm fat,so what?"

This is an age old topic and no matter how much is said and discussed,it will never be enough.
It's always been a recurring debate on my blog and in my mind-and in those of almost every girl I know.
And I  say girl,because I wouldn't do exact justice to male insecurities?

Because having a gap between your thighs is just so much more important that having enough  insulation to keep you warm in winters.
And having that much less or more on any part of your body would honestly make soo much of a difference,like they put it.
I spent the longest time wanting skinny plastic legs,but only when someone pointed out to me that they liked mine did I realise mine were just fine the way they were.I'm must confess a small part of me still covets those legs and it's not something I'm proud of.I'm sure there are so many out there who've wanted one kind of hair,skin,height,weight-with one common determinant shared universally-the lack of it,therof.
But let me tell you something I discovered growing up in a dysfunctional scape-
and heck,on most days,it makes me feel pretty good just looking like plain ol' me.And talking about body image always makes we want to embrace myself a little more-
Perfect is not beautiful,not even close.Perfect is nothing,at all.And if you still argue that it exists,I'll tell you it's subjective.Why do we need to all have an identical idea of perfect?
The creator left you flaws because every work of art needs to be flawed to be beauty in itself.
Identical ideas are sickening,and they make the monotony of it all so tiresome.Diversity is beauty.So is intelligence,wit,skill,talent..Qualities are beautiful,not ideas of how one appears or how one should.
Most of us don't realise it,but we are a sum of all our perceptions-you live your entire life inside the confines your mind and the only notion of beauty you should accept is yours.
Beautiful is not a mere description-it's a feeling.If you feel it,you potray it.Draupadi wasn't  the prettiest of them all,but she felt beautiful,because she knew what she was destined required her to believe in her beauty.
You can,too.
.

Dreading the D word.

Brace yourselves,a rant is making it's way towards youu.
Wake up groggy eyed,sit there covered in crinkly sheets,
Soaked up in the guilty pleasure of doing nothing.
It's Di..Uh,no,you're not mentally ready enough to brace the day yet.
Feel so much like a fizzled out chilli bomb,that dies before it lights up.
And my fridge is stacked up with boxes of sweets,
but the sweetness of festivity is but a long lost memory.
The only source of happiness remains to be a smooth,sterling silver pen,
with it's gold tinted clip modelled like an arrow.
How materialistic wonderful.*Cough cough.*
It feels so fluid in your palms,the shiny new thing,
Such a shame to be spending the festival of lights,
lighting up your world with the consolation that it's only a day long to go.
That it's only so long before people will live the fast life.
A memory of your mother's voice saying "Isn't it as good a burning money?"
It's a sad-ish time of year for socially anxious teenagers,
Can't even youtube in peace.Bah.
Okeebyee.