one of the things about the trends and the body image and all of it is that. you can't unsee it. and it doesn't matter that you know logically it's stupid and that logically any person who has a problem with your body can fuck off and die, but it's almost like gore. you flinch even knowing the blood onscreen is fake. you sense a pain that was invented. your body creates the phantom sensation - this thing should be avoided. so okay.
it's not that you won't wear the skinny jeans or the choker or whatever isn't "in style" anymore. and sometimes the demands are so buckwild that you can just ignore them, plain and simple.
but you do think twice sometimes. you do notice things about yourself you hadn't even considered. you notice the hip dips and the shape of your cheekbone and the skin over your eyes. it's been pointed out to you - so you notice. and sometimes it's like fuck you i look fucking amazing and sometimes it's like nobody even remembers that being a thing probably and sometimes - it's fucking devastating. like someone drew a bright red circle around each insecurity. on those days, you wonder - does anyone else see?
because the blame is on you either way. you have a terrible catch-22. if you want to fit in, it's on you to be sure that you look good, that your makeup isn't the "heinous" 2016 style (even if that's the style that flatters you), that your bodyfat settles in the appropriate landmap. and at the same time: it is also on you to ignore the programming. it is on you to get over your decades of social exposure to a trillion-dollar industry and just not care! about these things.
in the comments of course there are people who would advise you nothing with nuance. just ignore it! sure. nobody actually cares about these things. absolutely. this isn't how normal people look. of course not, you know that. you weren't born yesterday. you know about the photoshop and the pricetag and the brand manager.
but like. the media still exists. there are videos on how to manage your hip dips (your skeleton. you know it's your skeleton, and it doesn't matter, does it, because it has a name now, doesn't it?) and how to finally correctly wear the clean-girl-trend and how to have enough money to wear the latest "casual outfit". there are videos critiquing your entire generation for how you dress. how "cringe" it is to wear a certain style of necklace. an influencer says - let's be honest! nobody cares if you just have confidence!
but people do care. you've seen it. you know they care. you've been made fun of enough. it's not, like, a horrible sin to just want to fit in. it's not saying anything new to say i just don't want to be made fun of.
somewhere along here, you learn - your body is more like an accessory. not a home, not a sensation. it is an object like mom jeans or opera gloves. something to manipulate, not something to love.
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Before my transition, I used to post on here abt how angry I was that I had a body, how I couldn't believe I'd agreed to it in the preexistance, how I couldn't understand how getting a body was part of the plan of salvation when it felt like a punishment. But now that I have transitioned and had top surgery too, my body DOES feel like a temple. It's the damndest thing. Is this what cis people have been feeling this whole time? My body feels like a gift, it feels loving and beautiful and it makes me confident. And not only that, but I can't shake this bone-deep feeling that transitioning, having top surgery, has brought my body closer to its eventually perfected state. I feel like I've glimpsed exaltation in the BECOMING of it, in the way it has changed from something so hated to something that feels so holy. I wish I could make some people in the church see what im seeing. It's like I've pulled away a curtain and behind it is the missing piece of the gospel, the part of the plan that I fit in. How could this not be what god wants when i feel him so strongly in my transition, to the point I get goosebumps to even think too deeply about it. If only they could feel what I'm feeling, they'd know how RIGHT it is! I want to stand on top of a building and scream it. All along, I WAS a child of god! All along, he had a plan for ME! These are not empty words!
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