Feminize Me, Cap'n!

Okay, so, I just finished watching another JDorama called Last Friends.
There were a lot of powerful messages in that one as well, a lot I really got to thinking about.
However, there is only need for one small mention.
One of the characters Ruka is suffering from Gender Indentity Disorder. Basically, throughout the episodes she can't stand to see her own body and tries to cover it up.

Now, I don't have Gender Indentity Disorder, but the whole thing really got me to thinking about how I view myself and my own body.

For the most part, I tend not to focus too much on my looks (Which is obvious). I don't want to become obsessed with them, and I don't care how other people think of my looks. I think that what is really important is how comfortable I am with myself.

For the past year or so I've generally ignored anything concerning my appearance (Again, which is obvious). My hair grew out longer than it should have with the style I was sporting and looked like a mullet. So of course when I got to get it cut, I merely get the style trimmed. So really, it's just a shorter mullet. But what do I care, it's just hair.
For the past couple of months I've refused to even put in my contacts, I've simply been wearing my glasses everywhere. This might be due to the fact that paying for new contacts isn't cheap, and at the start of the year having contacts in my eyes would dry them out and I'd always fall asleep in them when I got home, but either way, I've taken a general liking to hide behind them.
Going along with wearing my glasses, I've than slackened on the grooming of my eyebrows. I mean, it doesn't seem that big of a deal really, but in girl world it is. Add the fact that I'm Italian, and we have ourselves a real problem when my eyebrows start growing thicker than the Jonas Brothers (*Shudder*). But, you know...who cares? I'm wearing glasses anyways, nobody can see my little unplucked eyebrows under them can they?
I'm not going to lie either, I've let my weight go considerably as well. I'm not going to sit here and whine about it though. I'm clinically overweight. Big deal. I know it, you know it, everybody knows it. It's the way it is. It's sort of what happens when you sit on your ass without exercise and eat a whole bunch of crap. People who cry about it need to do something about it, I know what I did and I know how to fix it. I'm just not.
And because of the weight gain, I barely have any clothes that fit me anymore. Did you know I haven't gone shopping for clothes since last Spring? So that means...all I have is whatever fits. And since I didn't have much of a style to begin with, that doesn't leave much. Not to mention none of it is fitting for my current size so it's all horribly unflattering.

So, what does this all leave me with? I'm not embarassed by it, nor ashamed. It's who I've become, and I watched the whole thing happen. I don't feel bad or happy about it. Sort of an indifference. After gradually adopting this new outlook on my priorities in life I can't do anything but shrug and say "Ah well, it is what it is. Guess I'll have to do something about that."

Well? Why do something?

Because I owe it to myself.
When I see myself looking back at me in the mirror, I see beauty. It's not a narcissitic ego trip or anything, but I see the beauty in myself as reflecting on just the natural aspect of who I am. No make-up, nothing. I also see the potential for something more.

When we dream, we all have these ideal images of ourselves. For some people like me, it doesn't neccesarily reflect what we look like in the now. The Sophie I see is so right, and nothing like what I represent now.

She's healthy, she's feminine, she's me.

But I've strayed so much from that. I'm not who I am, and THAT is the only thing that makes me uncomfortable.

It's not for them, it's for me. My benefit. I'm so busy and content with living inside of my head all the time, I don't feel the need to look after the real me. It's all fun to have a style and play dress-up with my ideas, but why not do it for real?

Point is, like Ruka, I look in the mirror and see somebody else. And it makes me feel uncomfortable, but all I ever do is 'just deal'. But we can both fix it.

I wanna fix it.

And it's not because I don't like who I am now, or I'm concerned with how other people preceive me. It's just...I want to feel like me. I want to feel like a woman.

So I'm going to do something about it. ;)

Immortality (continued...)

I'm more ashamed of myself than anything.

A few months back I wrote a very dark blog about my feelings considering death. It was pessimistic, it was childish, and it was selfish. I'm not sure if it reflected my attitude that of late or I was generally believing in such...but I'd like to clarify where my feelings on the subject have changed.

Around the same time I brought the topic up at work with my friend Sean. Instead of engaging in a conversation with me, he instead insisted on questioning me on my feelings and why I felt the way that I did. I thought maybe he would have agreed with me or shared his views, but instead he challenged me. And that was exactly what I needed. My face was red and I found that I really didn't have any good arguement or sound reasoning. Sean had subtely set me straight. After I had stopped sputtering and had gotten off my high horse, he told me a very powerful story.

A few years back he worked at a nursing home. He delivered food to the elderly everyday and eventually, became quite close to a few of the patients. There was an elderly women who made a point of chit-chatting with him whenever he delivered her pudding (just the way she liked it). She was upbeat, strong-willed, and a fiesty little old lady. One day she was telling him about all of the things she didn't get to do yet in life. She wasn't pitying herself or getting all mopey, she was just generally accepting the fact that she missed out on things. For instance, she always hoped she could have learned a different language and travel around the world. She was joking around and naming a bunch of other things and Sean laughed along with her. It wasn't until Sean named something he wished he could have done that she suddenly got very irrate and flew into a frenzy. "What the hell are you talking about? You have your whole life ahead of you! Don't you dare sit there and think you can't or couldn't do it, get out there and do it! Damnit, you kids just don't understand. When you're my age, there's only so much you can do, and the biggest thing is sitting around regretting things. You have plenty of time. Promise me you'll get out there and do it. Live the hell out of your life." Sean was stunned, but he took the words to heart.

When he relayed me this story all I could do was feel ashamed of myself. I felt guilty that I had been selfishly fretting over things I had no business even bothering to worrying about yet. I was afraid to go out there and live my life in the off chance that I would accidentally loose it. I was just being completely ridiculous. I'm not a kid anymore, but that doesn't mean I'm at the end of my ropes. I'm still young, and I haven't even started living yet. Why in the world would I already be questioning life and death? I'm supposed to just get out there a live it. Live it up as much as I can because it won't be around forever. And that is the point.

Now just today I finished watching a JDorama intitled 1 Litre of Tears, and I'll say right now, I'm pretty sure I cried a litre of tears just watching it.

It's based on a true story about a 15 year old girl named Aya Kito (You can try looking her up, but I know for a fact the Wiki page is pretty weak). She suffered from a diease known as spinocerebellar atrophy. Basically, you loose control of your body and it's like living in a prison because your mind is perfectly fine but you can't move or speak and eventually the disease will take you. It is incurable.

In the show and real life, Aya kept a diary originally to describe her daily activities in order for her doctor to get a feel for the progress of the disease, but eventually, it became a source of comfort for herself and others as she began to describe her struggles and thoughts. It was published, and to this day, has helped many other patients and people to appreciate life.

(When I feel like paying for $50 import costs, I plan on purchasing the book myself).

I really feel like I've learned a lot from this show...to realize that I have all these wonderful things in my life. And something that appears so simple, such as walking, is something I never thought to cherish before. And Aya had so little time...she was only 15 years old, and had to face the progression of her disease head on. Slowly it would become difficult to walk, pick things up, and move the way she wanted. She would be forced to use a wheelchair, would loose the ability to speak, and would start choking on her food.

Very tough things to consider in your own life. To know you'll only get worse before finally dieing...and knowing there is nothing you could do about that.

Aya lacked time. She didn't have much of it left to do the things she wanted while her body gave up on her. So she tried to do as much as she could. She wanted to be help others, she wanted to make a difference. And she did. She helped me.

I realize now that what I've been fearing most of all is time itself. Fortunately for me, however, I've still got some of it left. Instead of worrying about what I can't do, I should be focusing on what I can do. Live the life I want to live while I've still got the chance to. Appreciate the little things in life, and never take any of it for granted.

I still think it's stupid to fret over trivial things like homework, relationship woes, and high school drama...but that's only because there are more important things to care about. If you only had a week left, would you want to spend it stressing out or wasting time on something that won't matter in the long run? I would want to spend it happy, and making the most of it.

Besides, isn't life beautiful because you only get to experience it once?