Body Then, Body Now, Dysmorphia WOW!

So, if you have read any of my blogs about my body image and the work I have done over the last 15 months (as I did in my blog from Thursday), you would have thought I spent most of my adult life as a behemoth....an escapee from the Mesozoic era. In my head, although I know my body has fluctuated in size and fitness, it has not, in reality, except for about a year from 2002-2003 been really out of whack, but also, in my head, I have always had love handles, I had never before had abs in any significant way, and even as a twink I was never quite fit enough and still saw a partially fat kid in the mirror.

I want to be really clear. I really believed the previous statement. I remember having pictures taken by my beloved friend Nicole Harris Zajkowski (aka Noodle) one summer, the first summer that I started working out intentionally, and I remember those pictures were beautiful, but I also remember looking in the mirror and thinking...damn...I still have back fat. I had a waist size of 28 and was nearly 6' tall (I am 5"11 and some change), but in my mind and in the mirror, I was slightly overweight (at 155 pounds....lord have mercy). I was so convinced of this fact, that, in fact, I gave away all of the pictures that Noodle took of me because, while I thought they were great, I didn't want to see my slightly grotesque body.

Oh yeah, there is some crazy shit that goes on in my brain.

Yesterday, my ex-boyfriend from 14 years back (and still loved friend) Lonnie Emmanuel Tapia (check out his design work, he's amazing), was going through boxes in his parents house in the beautiful Tesuque, NM (where I had the joy of visiting twice)...and he came across some things from when we were dating including a drawing he did of the two of us and a picture montage that he created of me....which I am sharing here now. When I looked at those pictures, I could remember how I once viewed them and viewing them now, I fervently wish that I could have seen myself as the beautiful kid I was. If I had, maybe I wouldn't have had to walk some of the roads I walked. I could have avoided rehab and maybe even not have contracted HIV.

PLEASE OH PLEASE OH PLEASE don't get me wrong. I am who I am and with the gifts I have because I DID walk that road, and I love who I am today.  But I would be a lying fool to say that it would have been an easier, gentler road if I could have found an easier path to loving that young man that I have now seen again after so many years. 

But the beautiful thing about getting a gift such as the one that Lonnie gave me yesterday is that I get this chance and moment to look at my younger self and apologize.

To my younger self: I am so sorry I didn't love you the way you deserved to be loved. I am so sorry that I couldn't see that you were a beautiful and gifted young man with so much love for so many people but not enough love for yourself. I am sorry that I couldn't give you what you needed at that time to learn to love yourself. I am sorry that I couldn't be brave enough for you to ask for help and to let folks that loved you know that you were hurting and wounded and needed a little bit of strength to get the help and support you needed. I failed you then, but I won't fail you ever again. I love you now, and I love me now, and I forgive us both.

Life will always give you a chance to see the truth....it's up to us to figure out how to really see it.

PS Thank you, Lonnie. You have always been such a gift to me in my life, and yesterday you gave me a blessing that I value so very much.


PPS Dear Younger Self....why couldn't you get your shit together....looking back at my pictures...you were real pretty....we could be living large off of a model's back account. Forget what I said. I'm mad at you again. (Just kidding).

Low Down Dirty Shame

If beating oneself up were an Olympic sport…I would be the undisputed gold medal winner of all time. Not even the greatest guilt mongers amongst the world’s Catholics and Jews would be able to hold a candle to me when I really get into a shame/guilt spiral. I may call the OIC and see if we can work something out for a special Guilt Marathon or a Shame Relay.

Saturday night, David and I went to a party at our friend Brian’s pad. We had had a bit of a loopy day, as David didn’t sleep well…which is not a good thing…and a full moon was fast approaching. By that evening, we had managed to put the lunacy to rest, and we headed down to Chelsea.

It was Brian’s 32nd birthday party, and it was a smash. And then I got smashed. It was fun at first…there was a super hot Asian guy there…that I just knew David would love, so I totally started flirting with him…and then brought him over to meet David. Seems as if they hit it off. David and I were in a queer space, both of us were flirting wildly and sharing that with one another, and we had a great time.

Unfortunately, I don’t always know when to end the party and go home.

As the fiesta wound down, Brian made a suggestion that we head to Mr. Blacks. It was 2am, and David was beat, but I was tipsy and wanted to go out. David gave his blessing, and off I went.

I remember entering the club. I remember meeting the Argentines, and then I remember waking up in the Argentines fantastic apartment off Madison Avenue. I was still drunk, and it was 9am.

I jumped up and sprinted out lookin’ for the train home. Two trains and a half an hour later, I made it in the house. David was still in bed. I told him about the remainder of my night, and then I crashed out.

I woke up to find my man off on a bike ride, and I felt the shame mantle settle in.

If our positions were reversed and David had not come home all night, there would have been bloodshed. David, though, being David was disappointed but there was no drama. I suspected that he realized that I would do enough beating o myself up for the both of us. And I have…for 48 hours, been smashing myself around.

David is the best damn thing that has ever happened to me in this world. And the fact that I caused him obvious disappointment and hurt was a little bit more than I could handle. In the past, I would have laughed it off, swept it under the rug, or gotten defensive. This time, I found myself whirling down into a shame spiral that was pretty much out of control.

I have a very bad habit of waiting until things in my life are going extremely well and then figuring out a way to fuck it up. I started a kick ass new job last week. We are going to see my family in Minnesota this week. And, in general, I am the most happy I have ever been. Figures I would do something really stupid in an attempt to self-sabotage.

David told me yesterday, and again today, that we need to give ourselves the space to be human and make mistakes. I have always been fine when the mistakes end up impacting my life and leaving the people I love untouched. It’s when I do things that impact the people I care for in a way that I never intended that I find myself without the tools to combat the feelings that well up. Also, making a mistake and then throwing a pity party for oneself is not necessarily the path towards personal growth.

I have made drastic and significant changes in my life. In many ways I am allowing myself to feel and experience what I would run away from in the past. Today was the first time in a spell that made me want to run away and hide. But you can’t hide from yourself. You may fool yourself now and again. You may hide the truth from yourself…but you can’t sustain any of that for long…and running away from it means only that you give it power to grow and warp until facing it becomes a Herculean effort instead of the simple task of looking in the mirror and saying, “I forgive you.”

Healing

Sometimes healing starts when you unintentionally, through an expression of your own pain, hurt someone that you care about. I did that last night. Because of work I need to do to heal myself, I put my relationship at risk by not handling my emotions in the way I could have. The part that kills is that I caused pain, fear, confusion, and insecurity in someone that has been, for all purposes, a consummate source of love, strength, and patience in my life. Not all of the conflict from last night was mine to carry. But that which is mine to carry I am carrying heavily. It is also telling that although I have been forgiven for my knee jerk asinine behavior, I can't figure out how to forgive myself. It isn't as dramatic as it sounds, and then again, it really is. It's so dramatic it is comic. Poor Brandon...someone loves him enough to love him through his hurt. Self-pity is a damn shame.