Show and Tell

I'm experiencing an interesting phenomenon, in which I find myself wanting to cover my body more as it gets smaller.

It's odd, to say the least.

But not as odd as this photo that comes up when you google "very conservative dress."  Congratulations, you look like a human-sized crocheted condom.

Previously, I kept parts of me covered and hidden, all the time, no matter what.  To draw emphasis away from the parts of me that I didn't like (aka, almost everything), I wore a lot of makeup and cleavage-bearing shirts.  I've always loved my face and boobs.

Get it?  CLEAVAGE?  You're welcome, fellow nerds.

Anyway, before I started working out, eating well, and subsequently losing weight, I'd always thought that when I got thinner (notice I said thinNER, not thin.  I'm positive, not delusional) I'd want to show my body off.  New, cute clothes are a huge motivation for some people to lose weight.  Heck; new, cute clothes were one of my 1000 motivations to begin treating my body with more respect.  And generally speaking, in my mind, this involved a fair deal of visible skin.

What I've found is actually pretty surprising.

The exact opposite thing is happening.  The more weight I lose, the more I want to keep my body covered.

It's not because I'm ashamed.  It's not because I feel deformed, or gross, or like my formerly fatter self is in some way unworthy.

It's not because I have extra skin that I'm self-conscious about (not yet, anyway.  I've been lucky so far to have my skin recede with the rest of me, but I anticipate that this will be coming in the future.  It's almost impossible to escape it, so I'm just waiting.  Don't worry, I'm sure there will be some TMI blog posts when it happens).

On the contrary.

I am insanely proud of my "new" body (though it's not really new, it's just changed).

I worked (and am working) hard for it.

For the first time in forever, I feel like I own my body.

As soon as I typed the above sentence, I started singing songs from "Frozen."  Earworm level: 1000

Thus: I don't feel like I need to display it to prove my beauty, or my hard work, or my perseverance, or my sexiness, or my femininity, or anything.

I worked hard for it for ME.

NOT FOR YOU (well, not YOU specifically, dear reader...other people in general).

I will enjoy it as I see fit.

Of note, I've also completely stopped wearing makeup over the past year.  Mostly, this is practical in nature...I like a naked face when I work out.  I feel like if I worked out in makeup, my skin would feel choked and weird.  Plus, my face sweats like crazy, and nobody wants to look like a half-melted bomb pop.

Exhibit A.

 Now that I work out every day, it already means washing my face at least four times.  I didn't want to add makeup removal to that.  I'm a busy lady.

PREACH.

Here's the deal:  

While my choices are to eschew makeup (for the most part) and cover my body more than before (for the most part), these are MY choices and are absolutely not right for everyone.  

And my choices and opinions on this (and just about everything) are fluid and subject to change.

Whether you've recently lost weight, gained weight, stayed the same, grown an inch, gotten plastic surgery, are covered in tattoos or virgin-skinned, had a chemical peel, gotten dreadlocks, shaved your head, spent your whole paycheck at the MAC counter, wear combat boots or sky-high heels or Birkenstocks, or all or none of the above...

Whether you want to shake it around town in the nude, rock a burqa, or anything in between...

That's awesome!  Rock on with your badass self!

It's YOUR body, YOUR face, YOUR life.

YOU own it.

YOU earned it.

And everyone who wants to pass judgement can piss right off.

MIC DROP.  SENARIGHI OUT.