I have discovered something today, and it is this. I think I might be an a-hole. And you know what else? If you’re my friend, it turns out you might be one too.
I was reading this post at the Maiden Metallurgist today, where she talks about how oftentimes women take the self-deprecation a bit too far. Like, those “I’m so fat” comments that women say, and so forth. She told all her trusty readers that if they do that, then to stop that shit, and I heartily agree. It was a truly inspiring post and says a lot about why I think she’s pretty dang awesome.
However, it also showed me that I am an a-hole.
Why? Let me demonstrate: because she ended the post by asking readers to list, in the comments, three great things about themselves. And many people did, but said it was hard. I didn’t list, but not because it was hard. I didn’t list because I thought to myself “ONLY THREE? That is way too little, for I am delightful in scads of ways. Scads!”
A-hole. Me. I know.
Granted, I didn’t always feel this way. I wrote about it a couple of years ago in one of my favorite posts about when I told some old ladies I went to rodeo clown school, this process that I’ve been in, especially in my 30s, to own being proud of myself. And it’s working out pretty darn good. Practice really does win the day. When I get a compliment, it’s super easy for me (now) to say “thanks.” And I give myself a break pretty much as a rule. And I can’t remember the last time I said “I hate my hair!’ or the like. Not because I am better than anyone else. But just because I practiced it, intentionally, for a long time. And then it just started to come natural and I now don’t have to think about it nearly as much.
And you know what? If that makes me an asshole, that’s cool. I am ok with that. Because the stress I used to put myself through in my 20s? FUCK THAT.
So, instead of a list of why I am awesome, I am going to make a list of some of the reasons why I am able to even think that I could be the slightest bit awesome. Thank Jeebus for the following:
1. My mom, who raised me with good body image and always made me feel smart and pretty and good about my sexuality (yay girly parts!), and who taught me that I never needed to apologize for having a big assertive mouth (you’re welcome, America!).
2. My closest friends, who don’t put themselves down (which, as I stated above, might make them a-holes too). Since they don’t put themselves down, I don’t put myself down. Because when someone says “OMG my boobs are so ugly!” what other response is there except to say “your boobs? You haven’t seen ugly until you’ve seen these knockers!” The more I thought about this one the more amazed I am at these friends. Thanks BioGirl, Neighbor J, Hopscotch, Sarah, Alli, Map, Cousin R, etc. You guys are my role models, for shizzle.
3. My Women Studies degree. Oh yes, one of my degrees is in Feminazism. And they beat the shit out of you if you put yourself down or disparage your uterus or what have you. Ok, not really. But kind of.
4. Nordic Boy, who has for many years loved everything about me, including the changing size of my ass and my ever-increasing Granny-liciousness.
5. And me. That’s right, me. I deserve some of this credit too, because I, did I mention, am awesome. And maybe an a-hole. Holla!