My War With The Mirror

"I feel fat." "Fat is not a feeling, what do you really feel?"

Jr high, middle school, that little waste land between elementary school and high school, what ever you want to call it, is a rough time for just about everyone. Especially physically. It's the years of bad acne, braces, growth spurts, puberty, and really bad smells. Eugh. I never want to go back there. Thank god it's over.

                        Jr. High......

Those years feel like your body is totally out of control even for someone without a chronic illness. But for me, they were horrendous. Not only was I going through all of the normal changes that young teens do, my body was also being morphed by both my disease and my medications. 

When I started Jr. high at age 12, I had been really sick, so I came in weighing a paltry 90lbs. I was put on prednisone, and before Christmas I was up to (a much healthier) 115lbs. Still extremely small, butting was such a drastic change, I was devastated. This was the first of many rapid weight fluxuations I would fa over the next 8 years. 

I had no way to cope, no strategies to deal with my anguish, and I began to develop a very poor body image. 

My self-esteem was ok. I was able to recognize qualities in myself, like my ability to make people laugh, my intelligence, my communication skills, that made me realize I was a worth while person, I just hated the shell I was living in. 

At 12 years old I had stretch marks, love handles, acne, braces, thin hair, puffy cheeks, and I hated it all. I don't know if I've ever fully recovered from that initial blow to my relationship with my body. On top of it all, my body was weak from illness and wasn't recovering. I felt so betrayed. My body wasn't beautiful, (At least I didn't believe it was), it couldn't do anything wonderful, like push-ups. Or the splits, or run, or jump, or anything like that, it didn't even work well as a body as basic function. 

No wonder I had issues.

It's taken a lot of time to build up the love for my body. I really have to credit dance (as seen in this post) for renewing my faith in my body's ability to do something admirable, makeup, clothing, and my boyfriend for helping me believe that I am beautiful and desirable, and my unwavering hope for remission, that someday, my body will be normal. 

Ignore this mess below. My iPad wouldn't let me delete it. It was a failed link attempt. 

► 1:01► 1:01 www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFbvq8BYEnI

► 1:01► 1:01

Makeup Is My Armour

This morning, my sister shaved her head. That's right. All of it. It was past her shoulder and then bam, it was gone. 

Nope it wasn't an act of charity, she wasn't donating her hair. She also wasn't trying to beat the process of chemo. Her hair was just so damaged from a couple years of a torturous routine of bleaching, dying, colouring and heat styling that it was simply ruined. She had to start fm scratch. 

Ok Jack, what does this have to do with your blog? - You all must be thinking. 

I assure you it does.

After my sissy cut off all her hair she exclaimed that she looked butch and felt naked. I don't blame her.  My sister is beautiful, but she definitely has a strong Dutch look to her, which isn't as daintily feminine as other hereditary lines. 

I immediately came to her rescue by telling her that by wearing long earrings, feminine clothes and flawless makeup that no one would question her gender identity. She agreed and felt better.

I got thinking, I use makeup in the same manor to my Crohn's. I use it like an armour to protect myself from the world. I might take up to an hour applying my makeup just to hangout and watch a movie with my boyfriend or go out for a drink and wings with a friend. Seems a bit over kill right?

Wrong.

My makeup is a way for me to feel extra beautiful. I can feel beautiful without it no doubt, but the process of applying it is like treating myself to a spa, then going out knowing I'm looking my best shifts my brain focus from being ashamed of my illness or just feeling rotten, to having a spark in my eye that makes confident enough to order a girlie drink that I wouldn't usually (I'm a rum and coke girl).

My makeup is an armour against my Crohn's. For me it says: you can take a lot away from my life but you CANNOT take away my need to feel beautiful. 

Its hard to feel beautiful when you're running to the bathroom 10x a day, or have doctors shoving cameras up your bum, or have side effects from medication that alter your appearance without your consent. But makeup is always there for me for a little self esteem boost. 

There is comfort in feeling beautiful in your own skin, whether that takes makeup, clothes, jewelry, sports, dance, or anything else.

                        Bald is Beautiful!

I hope you all feel beautiful today!