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Reclaiming Real Beauty, Health, And A Woman's Right to Curves

The British Fashion Council has refused to ban the use of 'Size 0' models in London's Fashion Week.

Instead, they have requested that all designers use "healthy models" ages 16 and over...

(Because clearly fashion designers have a tight grip on what healthy looks like...)

Recently, Brazilian supermodel, Gisele Bundchen, claims that she has never suffered from anorexia because she "had a very strong family base" and that "The parents are responsible, not fashion."

Never mind that in the past month 3 women from Brazil have died from this disease, including 21 year old fashion model Ana Caolina Reston.

Fuck you, Gisele.

I'd say "Fuck You" to the British Fashion Council but I'd doubt they'd hear me as their heads are probably stuffed a toilet regurgitating their Sunday Roasts, or busy snorting coke off of Kate Moss' ribs.

Plus, the owner of Topshop -Sir Phillip Green- has pretty much given a big FUCK YOU to the BFC by taking some fucking responsibility by banning "waif" models:

"We all know what the definition of unhealthy is and we want to try to act correctly, responsibly and without causing a rift. Everyone wants to see people being healthy and we have got lots of good-looking girls who can be a healthy weight and look great."

Now, while it's great that a male owned fashion company is saying it wants to use "healthy" models and their website models don't look shockingly emaciated, they're certainly not exactly screaming,"LOOK I'M HEALTHY! I EAT!"

But still. At least his chickpea sized testicles had enough oomph  to set an good example. Or, if nothing else, a PC PR move.

And Gisele? Oh please. PLEASE.

Look, I'm glad that she had such a sweet, and sugary home life and that her family apparently loved her enough to prevent her from feeling like she needed to starve herself.

What the fuck was that comment supposed to mean?

Does that mean that all those poor girls who feel so disgusted and horrible about themselves that the only way they can cope is to indirectly address their problems by depriving and starving themselves, should blame their parents for not loving them enough, or the "right way"?

Parents have a massive, colossal responsibility to educate, nurture their children. I agree whole heartedly and will thoroughly acknowledge that in a moment...

But PLEASE do not tell me, Gisele, that it is only PARENTS to blame for the GLOBAL issue of poor body image, low self-esteem, and eating disorders amongst young women and girls.

NOT FASHION?

If it's not fashion, than it's not fashion magazines, either, I suppose. It's not ads, or commercials. It's not TV. It's not movies. It's not lingerie catalogues. It's not runway shoes. It's just the parents fault.

Ummmm.....

Remember that whole Parental Advisory thing? Apparently, society, and the government think that certain types of media can be harmful to children, despite having a "strong family base".That sticker means that the music industry, despite it being forced, are still helping out parents by saying "Dude, you may not want your 13 year old son listening to this."

Globally, the film industry admits "Yeah, sure. We'll help a brother out" and rates it's movies, giving parents a heads up that "This gay love scene between 2 sexually frustrated cowboys may not be suitable for your 9 year old."

Holy crap, Gisele. Even TELEVISION agrees that parents, despite loving their children and doing their gosh darndest to raise their kids in a way that would cause them to not want to starve themselves to death, need some help and therefore RATE THEIR TELEVISION SHOWS to guide parents on which programs are appropriate for children.

The UK even has this nifty little thing called the ITCwhich even helps monitor which adverts should be played at certain times; the more 'family friendly' adverts playing during when children are more likely to be watching.

Oh yeah. Even video games have a rating system, as some language, themes, and violent scenes may be too intense for youngins.

So, on the whole, some of the biggest media outlets agree that their music/programs/films/games/advertisements contain content that could possibly be inappropriate and damaging to children.

While all of these sources of media cannot be made, for the most part, to remove this material -freedom of speech, etc- it is their legal, and some would say, social responsibility to warn parents and consumers that it contains such material.

There are absolutely times when parents need to take full responsibility for their children's actions, but choose to blame "the media", instead. (For example, the parents blaming Marilyn Manson for the Columbine murders.)

Globally, parents and consumers alike have agreed there are things in the media that can distort, alter, confuse, and even damage children.

Kids stab each other because they "saw it on Power Rangers". They accidentally shoot someone because they played a violent video game and didn't understand people die. They jump off the roof into a swimming pool and light themselves on fire because Johnny Knoxville did it.

We all cried out, "Where were the parents??!!" and "Why is this crap even on TV?"

It seems those in power are taking responsibility, as I've mentioned above, are trying to limit the amount of inappropriate sex, drugs, violence, and harsh language that children are exposed to.

However, how many girls need to die while trying to achieve the standards of beauty that they have learned from the exact some media outlets?

We have a global issue on our hands.

We have millions, and millions of women and girls all over the world who think they're ugly, and fat, and worthless, and disgusting, and are slowly killing themselves to try to obtain this unobtainable, western, media/fashion created image of "beauty".

Again, I agree that parenting has a HUGE impact on this, but where does this image come from?

OH. Fashion. Fashion Magazines. Movies. TV. Ads. Commercials. Even music.

The ONE issue that no body seems to want to touch, or take responsibility for is their influence on young girl's body image, and self-esteem.

Models, fashion agencies, fashion editors, designers, directors have all defended their use of skinny ass, unrealistic looking women by excusing it the problem away.

Models are just skinny. They're supposed to be, right?

Gisele says, "Everybody knows the standard for models is to be thin."

Right. Well, does everybody also know that in 1998, just 3 years after US television shows were introduced to Fiji, 12 out of 100 girls had bulimia?**

Did you know 70% of all 9 year olds are dieting?

Does everybody know that 90% of all women overestimate their body size by an average of 25%, and that 40% of all women see at least one body part as being 50% larger than it really is.

And WHY is this?

If someone says, "My thighs are big..." They're big compared to...what?

"My legs aren't supposed to look like this."....Why?

"My breasts are too small?"....Small compared to what?

You're "FAT"?....Fat compared to what??

The WHAT and the WHY are the images, the air brushed, starved, entourage created, digitally altered, surgically enhanced, UNREALISTIC, unobtainable, projection of what beauty is supposed to look like that we are bombarded with from every single media outlet across the world.

Our entire basis of what sexy, attractive, beautiful, pretty, hot, cute, and fuckable are, is based on what FASHION and MEDIA tell us it's based on. It always has.

But when is enough, enough?

Are the fashion industries really that disgusting that instead of taking responsibility, they will just pass the blame on bad parenting, and pick money and endorsements and playing nice with designers OVER the health of women?

I believe that the Fashion industry won't take any responsibility for these issues as their situation is a bit more unique than any other media outlet's. It's not as simple as just issuing a ratings system, is it?

What are they going to do? Make a "This magazine may cause images that will negatively influence your daughter's self image and greatly increases her chances of developing an eating disorder" sticker for every issue of Vogue?

That's not going to happen. Therefore the body image and beauty standards of the western world, that are poisoning the rest of the globe, need to CHANGE.

Where is the fucking responsibility?

Why will no one stand up? While will no one change? Why, are these poor, hurting girls allowed to feel ugly, and fat, and disgusting and unloved, and have no one in power speak up and MAKE A CHANGE?!!?

Why is it that 76% of UK women, and 59% of all US women feel that it is hard to feel personally beautiful when confronted with the media's ideals of beauty??

This is beyond the typical bulimic ballerina, the anorexic models, and the workout crazy fashionistas.

This is YOUR DAUGHTER.

This is YOU..

And this is even me.

I do not have an eating disorder..but, I don't think anyone can honestly say that they don't wish they were thinner, or lighter, or bigger busted.

It's not just "Oh the grass is always greener" or "Of course, everyone wants to change something about their body" or "just a woman thing".

Our minds are poisoned with an image of what women are SUPPOSED to be and look like.

How many times have I thought to myself, "My ass shouldn't look like this...I'm not supposed to have cellulite there...No one else has breasts shaped like this, do they?...Are my hips supposed to look like that in jeans?"

It all starts very young.

As young girls, when our bodies are changing and stretching, we're afraid. We're fragile. Is this supposed to be happening this way?

So we look for examples, we look for support, we look for validation that we are beautiful, just as we are.

And it gets to a point that we don't believe our mothers, anymore...They're our MOTHERS, they're SUPPOSED to think we're beautiful!

So, what else is there?

Hello, Media. Hello, Fashion World. Hello EVERY SINGLE MAGAZINE COVER, TV SHOW AND MOVIE.

No one else has hips like mine. No one else seems to have fat on their body like this....

I'm fat.

I don't look like I'm supposed to look. I'm not beautiful. I'm not loveable. I'm not worthy.

I am disgusted and ashamed to admit that growing up I would cry, and cry because I felt fat. The first time I remember thinking I was "too big" was when I was 12, and was just starting to reach puberty. I was embarrassed of my thighs...AT 12.

I remember dieting for the first time at 14...

I had low self esteem, my parents divorce to live with, and depression that either caused, or stemmed from all of this..I've never had an eating disorder...But my body image has been FUCKED UP.

I'm just now learning to love myself, and love my body. Really love my body. To look in the mirror and instead of saying "I know I'm pretty, but I just have these floppy bits..."  to just look, and like what I see without beating myself up over some aspect of my appearance that isn't as it "should be".

I am learning to appreciate my own REAL BEAUTY.

And this brings me to Dove's Campaign for Real Beauty.

I am so grateful, moved even, that finally...Finally we have people out there who are willing to DO SOMETHING about this horrible psychological epidemic that is killing young women all over the world.

A company that puts beautiful, gorgeous, real women out in the open.

Tattooed, scared, curvy, "imperfect" women who are real. And gorgeous....And that can help lift the shame.

Lift the shame that we all feel for not looking like the "ideal women" should.

I feel that there are hardly any causes greater than the need to improve the self-esteem, self-worth, and mental health of young women out there than this.

What reason do we have to not be passionate and proactive about this?

The depression, self-esteem issues, eating disorders, and psychological disorders that so many girls and women suffer from do not just develop from thin air.

I firmly believe young girls and boys desperately need their parents to set a positive standard for them. They need to feel loved, and nurtured, and intelligent, beautiful, unique, and worthy of love.

Dove is launching a program/workshop in the UK called "Body Talk" to "help young girls (and boys) understand and deal with feelings about their physical appearance, and learn how 'ideal' images of beauty are created".

They also emphasize the importance of positive role models for young women, and that they need positive self-esteem boosts BEFORE it ever occurs to them to think otherwise...

They even have a "Mums and Daughters" booklet that answers questions and gives advice to Mums (or other parental figures) on how to handle tough situations regarding self-esteem and body image, and also gives advice on how to set a postive example and encourage their daughter's self-esteem.

There are extreme cases where mothers or parents have been very harsh critics, negative, and sometimes deadly influences on their daughter's self-esteem.

Parents need to realize that their daughter is or will very soon be faced with these negative influences on their body image.

We need our parents. We need our mothers, we need other women to reach out to us BEFORE it ever crosses our mind that we need to be thin or big breasted or tiny to be worthy of love. We need to complimented, and receive attention for things other than just 'looking good' or being 'thin and pretty'.

I believe a lot of mothers need help on how to deal with their daughter's self-esteem, as many mothers (or parental figures) have/are still suffering from poor body image, and low self-esteem.

Real beauty...

Doesn't that just sound good?

Isn't it nice to say "curvy" and not have it be social code for "fat"? Curvy is beautiful, curves are beautiful.

We need to embrace health. As a society, I don't think we understand what "healthy" even means any more.

We're afraid of fat, we're afraid of eating fat...You're either a health freak, or a couch potato....

Where is the happy medium between being obese, anorexic, and being miserable that we our bodies are not how we think they should look?

The entire world needs to relearn what the world "healthy" really means.

And we need to open our eyes, and look at the real world, and discover that real, tangible beauty is all around....

I'm not condemning those who are thin and beautiful.

There are so many beautiful girls that are just naturally thin and tall. Just like there are many, many beautiful girls who are shorter that 5'8 and weigh plenty more than 115lbs.

 I'm not saying that  those of us, like myself, who are struggling with their body image must be ignorant or suffer from an eating disorder...We're trying to learn how to be healthy, and have a healthy body image.

We need to learn and acknowledge that we can still be BEAUTIFUL even despite having gained weight, or going up a jeans size...as long as you're HEALTHY.

Whoever said that healthy wasn't having any fat on your body? Having a perfectly toned ass?

Healthy doesn't mean that you're lean and trim. Healthy doesn't mean THIN.

At my thinnest, I was also my most unhealthy.

 I was smoking, barely eating, barely sleeping, and living off of taco bell quesedillas, espresso, tea, and day old Starbucks pastries.

Healthy is beautiful. Happy is beautiful.

There is nothing wrong with being "bigger" as long as your health is not in serious risk, and you are HAPPY.

There is nothing wrong with being curvy. Or having a "muffin top", or cellulite, or stretch marks, or wonky tits.

Just look at Tyra Banks.

She's been criticized for gaining 30lbs since she stopped modelling. She's being called fat.

TYRA BANKS is being called FAT.

She is an ambitious, beautiful, intelligent woman who is NOT fat. She is curvy, she is not emaciated, she does not have a perfect stomach, or a perfect face, or a size 6 ass....

She is a real beauty. A real woman. SHE is a woman to look up to and idolize.

This subject is huge, and complex, and upsetting. To get out all of my feelings on this subject, I would probably have to write for a year without stopping. (I have wireless, that may be possible..)

The Dove videos, you've probably already seen them...but please watch them again.

There are moments where I just want to weep...because they're just real. They're honest.

I cannot preach about how to feel better about yourself, as I am a women who is still learning.

I can only share what I've learned.

But this is the most important journey of my life. To truly love and be confident with my mind and body...There is no greater journey, really.

Before we can cleanse the world of stereotypes and prejudices, and unobtainable body images, we first need to cleanse ourselves.

I'm starting with me.

May you do the same...and so on, and so forth.

 

**All statistics can be found on Dove's Campaign For Real Beauty website.

My first snow...and it was just like I'd always imagined

Although every other person in and around London has done this already, I cannot resist.

The weather report claimed it would snow on Tuesday night....Now, I never believe 'em because they always get my little hopes up, and there's nothing more pathetic than a half naked Californian crying on her English window sill because thar ain't no darn snow...

Last night I dreamt of snow flakes the size of volleyballs.

And by gawd, it snowed!!!

When Iain said, "It snowed last night" I thought he meant like "pretend snow" and I would wake up to little bits of nasty, gray slush on the ground.

But, no.

I leaped up from our bed when I saw this out our bedroom window:



"OH MY GOD, THERE'S SNOOOOOOOW!!!!!"

And then I danced around the apartment in my knickers, squealing, "GET THE CAMERA!! GET THE CAMMERA!"



I was a tourist, reborn. It was SNOWING, Y'ALL!



I've never lived anywhere it actually SNOWS.



There's rumors of more snow tonight. I plan on being up at the crack of dawn, to run outside in my earmuffs and scarf, sniffing the fresh "snow smell" like a crazed bloodhound....except I guess that would make me a snow hound.



But you know what I mean, right? That weird snow smell? Iain says he can't smell it...but snow does have a smell....

Confessions of an ex 'Psycho Girlfriend'

Alright. So I've been tagged by Idle, LeendaDLL & TheBitterLinguist...

 I'm more of a "hide & seek" girl, but I shall play a long this once.

Well, kind of. But only because this little "5 things" quiz plays right into the next post I had in the works, so we'll retitle it the:

"5 things or more you probably didn't know about me that I will indirectly explain in the following post".

I say that counts.

So, you may have noticed I write a lot about the stupid things that girls do.

**everyone rolls eyes and groans**

The stupidity of women/girls in relationships and in their general behavior makes me want to pull out my hair. It drives me fucking nuts.

 For fuck sake, I've pretty much based an entire blog on analysing and picking apart idiotic behavior.

I'm not just a judgemental wench that thinks she knows everything because she has a Psychology degree.

(Because I don't. I ain't got no proper skoolin'.)

And I don't think I'm a relationship expert or "know men" because I own all the seasons of Sex and the City have read He's Just Not That Into You, or am married.

I don't just observe these behaviors and let them get me all up in a tizzy because I just "don't understand" them.

It goes back to the whole childish "takes one to know one" comeback.

Idiotic, self destructive, blind, foolish, naive female behavior, urks me to my very core because I used to be the dumbest smart girl in the world.

Okay, maybe not the world, but certainly in my apartment complex.

I used to be a cell phone checking, Myspace hacking, paranoid, jealous, insecure, naive, blinded by "love" TWAT.

Or, very much like some of you out there, I assume.

Look, I know why you're making excuses for your boyfriend. Why you're unhappy. Why you feel that way. Why you're always fighting. Why you pretend. Why you lie. Why you want to stay with him. Why you check his phone. Why you check his Myspace. I understand why you hate it when his Ex calls. I understand even MORE why you pretend it's not that big of a deal. I understand why you beat yourself up over it. Why you pass it off as you being "jealous",

I was in an incredibly unhealthy, psychologically destructive relationship for over 2 years. I let myself be lied to, cheated on, passive aggressively manipulated and lead on. I let my personal progress to better my physical and mental health be sabotaged.

I was THIS CLOSE to letting this life that I write about, and this love that I have found NEVER HAPPEN.

The behavior and excuses and stupidity that I cannot stand, used to be my way of thought, and way of life.

Now, being on the 'not so stupid' side of that and being in a truly healthy, loving relationship not only with myself, but with my partner...It disgusts me how complacent and foolish other women/girls are with their mental stability, heart, and body in relationships.

Why is "being psycho and jealous" so ACCEPTED by us?

Acting like a crazy ass? It's okay! Your BFF feels the same way. "Dude, I'm totally psycho, too!" so you just brush it off. You're justified acting that way. Jealousy is normal. You're just insecure. "I just need to get over it, and then we'll be perfect."

Um, you couldn't be more wrong.

Well, yes, you're wrong and really need to stop torturing yourself and exhausting your precious energy by being a double agent with your boyfriend...However, you're not just "insecure" or "being psycho".

There's a reason behind all of that.

And the fact that you're crying all the time, fighting, and acting like god damn Sidney Bristow and checking your lover's cell phone the minute he steps into the shower should be a RED FUCKING FLAG to you.

RED FLAG. RED FLAG. RED FUCKING FLAG.

That's not normal. That's not healthy.

Look, we all know what I'm talking about. And it's one thing to Google his Ex's name or refer to her as "The Life Sucking Vortex of Death"...It's completely different to be hacking into his Myspace account while he's at working or ripping open his cell phone bill the minute it comes in the mail, comparing dates and times he said he was "at lunch" or at his best friend's house.

Yeah. Again, RED FLAG.

..So....

Basically, I was in a relationship for over 2 years with this guy named, uh, we'll call him Spencer. (Because I hate that name.) I loved him. I had a promise ring. We moved in together after 3 months. He bought me a dog. My family seemed to really like him. We talked about getting married. His friends all loved me.

This is what everything appeared to be like, and these are the reasons I thought we would be together forever and ever.

The reality was...

Spencer had cheated on every single one of his girlfriends, and had a very slutty, concerning past. When we met he still had a girlfriend, and I was his excuse for finally dumping her. He refused to stop talking to her until a year and a half into our relationship. The entire time we were together, he still talked to the girl he had cheated on his ex with, and refused to stop. Flat out REFUSED. Even after I saw a text from him to her that said "Why didn't it work out between us?"

 Never mind all of the other girls that were just "his friends" that he had either gone out with, slept with, or at one point had a crush on.

He never wanted to go out, and lived on the Xbox. I'd sit for hours and hours alone while he'd play games online, or read, or play Halo. He'd secretly text and always make a phone call if I took a nap or went out. He'd check out and stare at waitresses and other women directly in front of me and claim, "What, I'm a guy?!" or "Oh, I thought I knew her from somewhere."

And that brings us to the other problem. Spencer was a sex addict.

That doesn't mean that he had a really high sex drive, liked to have sex a lot, or was just a very sexual person. The BBC gives a pretty good explanation of it: "A sex addict feels compelled to seek out and engage in sexual behaviour, in spite of the problems it may cause in their personal, social and work lives."

In Spencer's case, this manifested in a number of ways, but mainly in his addiction to Internet Pornography.

Before I go any further, I just want to clarify that I'm not writing this to damage Spencer. There are only a few people who may even know who I'm talking about, but, I write this because I hope it might help someone else.

When I went through this, I was very alienated, and very, very alone until I got help for myself....and even then, I didn't tell my therapist for 5 months about this problem that I was dealing with because it was that embarrassing, and that difficult to speak out.

Plus, this is not really talked about.

It's been on Dr.Phil once.

There are many religious websites reaching out to sex addicts, claiming they can help them find Jesus and cleanse them of the "sin and shame".

There are books about sex addicts, that only briefly touch on addiction to Internet porn.

Maybe things have changed in the past couple years....But when I was going through this, I didn't get any support.

So. He was addicted to Internet pornography and refused, and even lied about getting help.

His sexual addiction problems, along with many other problems, were the main reason for his inability to stay faithful to any one of his girlfriends.

His favorite line upon breaking up is always, "You're the only girl I never cheated on."

Oh. Then I guess I must be super special, huh? "Special" enough to believe that crock of shit.

It was also the reason he couldn't cut ties with girls he had inappropriate relationships with, because that would be getting rid of a potential fuck buddy, or sexual escapade, or source of flirtatious banter.

He couldn't help but stare at women because MY GOD. There were tits and ass in his view, so it must be looked at. And it's not just "I'm just looking"...It was "I'm looking, and I'm also wondering what she'd be like in bed."

There is a difference between this, and a healthy, normal way of looking at other women. This alone did not make him a sex addict. Just like occasionally looking at porn can be healthy and normal. But his habits with it were very, very unhealthy and destructive.

At first it didn't bother me. It was fine. He was a guy. Guys do that.

However, I started checking his computer more and more, because I noticed that EVERY time I'd use his computer to check my mail, "hotXXXMILFS" popped up right along side "hotmail.com"....

I started noticing that every time we were apart, even every HOUR we were apart he would be looking at porn.

Even right before I would come over.

So, I told him it made me uncomfortable, especially when our sex life was so, um, quiet.

So he said he'd do it less often.

Less often....

It got to the point where the "less often" would be every single morning, while I was at the grocery store, while I was at work, or WHILE I WAS IN THE SHOWER.

I FLIPPED OUT the day he didn't have time to come see me at my work before he left for the day, because he had spent 2 hours looking at porn.

I had become a detective. A crazed, obsessed, psycho detective that knew every way to check what he'd been looking at. What time. What he said he was doing.

I told him it needed to stop....And it seemed to....But mostly because I stopped checking.

But then I found out he'd just been using Netscape instead of Internet Explorer for the past 3 months.

I would cancel plans with friends just so I could be home by the time he was home. I would leave my mom's house to be there the minute he walked in the door. I would lie to switch my work schedule around just so I could be home, babysitting, making sure he didn't "fuck up" and look at porn. If we did have to be apart, I couldn't think about anything else. I'd text him just to make sure he wasn't too preoccupied to text me back. The panic and anxiety I felt leaving him home by himself was crippling.

Who was he talking to? What was he doing? Was he looking at porn? Wacking off? Talking to his ex? Is he even really at home???

I tried being patient. I tried not getting mad at him. I tried yelling at him. I tried sobbing. I tried not looking...But....

I was always the bad guy. I was always a "snoop" or he felt like he was "being spied on in my own home".

And he was. But I wasn't wrong.

I was wrong for staying and making everything be okay at all costs just so I could still be with him...

But HE was WRONG.

Add on top of this disturbing addiction everything I had mentioned above....Me constantly checking his cell phone to find messages from his ex girlfriends and ex mistresses..."I miss you" or "How are you Sweetheart?"...Add on top of that we didn't have a sex life...Add on top of that I felt ugly, and fat, and insecure, and insane, and jealous, and CRAZY because it would always, ALWAYS make me out to the be the snoopy, insecure, jealous girlfriend who was feeling the way I did for NO REASON.

"WHY DON'T YOU TRUST ME??'

Every. Single. Day. I would throw myself into a whirlwind of guilt, and depression, and self doubt, and shame...And then try to pick myself back up again and be a loving, forgiving, proper girlfriend.

By this time my depression (that I didn't really know I suffered from) had caused me to call a therapist. I had never been to therapy, but knew that I needed help.

 I felt empty. I felt insane, because of Spencer's passive aggressive manipulation, addiction, and lies.

At this time, I didn't know about sexual addiction. I didn't know all I do now, about psychology and my depression, and or even about myself.

After about 5 months of therapy, I opened up and explained how my relationship was REALLY. The porn, the texts, the confusion, and the blame....

I didn't want to tell my therapist for so long, because I knew she would "make me" break up with him....

I already knew it. I already knew, deep down, that it would never work. And that I wasn't wrong or crazy...

But god I wanted to get married. I wanted to live happily ever after with our dog. I just wanted him to love me back.
I wanted him to love me enough to stop talking to those girls. Love me enough to stop with the porn, and find me attractive enough to sleep with.

Love me. Make me worthy of your love. Why am I not good enough for that?

....And for the whole 2 years that we were together that I had it completely wrong.

He wasn't worthy enough for my love.

I confronted him one night, and said that if he had a problem. He was addicted to porn. And if he didn't get help.

That I would leave.

Amazingly, he said that he would go. He would go to therapy to get help.

I was relieved, and was so pleased that everything could be perfect, now. I was so surprised that he had agreed, and so easily understood that he needed to get help.

He even put the books on sexual addiction in his car, and said that he would read them on his lunch breaks.

The next day he made an appointment, and said that he had found a male doctor that would see him, and talk to him about it.

He went to the appointment one day while I was at work.

He went to his next appointment "on his way to work".

He said the doctor was really nice, and that they talked about his mom's control issues and that his therapist was going on vacation for three weeks and couldn't see him again until he got back.

After three weeks, Spencer didn't think he needed to go back because he got "control" of everything.

It never occurred to me that he was lying. Or that I never knew the name of his doctor. Or where the office was. Or what time his appointments were..

During the next 4 months of my own therapy, I had learned how blind I had been. How self destructive, and horrible I had been to MYSELF.

It got to the point where I realized that Spencer "not being able to keep the dog in the bedroom" long enough for her to leave me alone while I was in the living room trying to do yoga (as part of de-stressing and lifting my depression) wasn't just him being lazy. It was just one of the many ways he tried to subconsciously sabotage me getting better.

Because all the while I was going to the gym to heighten my endorphins and feel better about my body, and started to feel less depressed...I started to question him.

I was getting better....And me getting better, meant that I could see beyond his bullshit.

Cate not sick, meant Cate no longer ignoring the fact that your texting your "friend from work" while we're "on a date".

I realized I couldn't have the person who was supposed to "love me for the rest of my life" refuse to STOP talking to his ex mistress. Or make me feel horrible and disgusting for being upset that he had one of his ex girlfriend's bras hidden in our closet.

Realizing all of the lies and sabotage is very shocking. Once you SEE and SMELL and WAKE UP from the dozy, dramatic coma that is an unhealthy relationship...you realize and can see just how ugly everything really was.

For example, I never went out with my friends. So, one night, right before our 2 year anniversary I went out to one of my friend's barbecues. I brought Starbucks ice cream and got all dolled up for a night with the girls.

Then, 2 hours into the BBQ I check my phone, and I have 10 missed calls from Spencer.

He was at the pet hospital with Bug, because she "somehow got into something" and mysteriously wouldn't stop throwing up.

Now, in retrospect, I wonder what the fuck must have happened to my poor, 12 week old puppy to have let her get so sick she had to be taken to the pet hospital and be pumped with liquids just so she didn't get dehydrated.

I hate to think the worst. I hate to think he was "preoccupied" and let her get into something....or that she was allowed to get into something so that I would have to come home....

Spencer had an awful childhood, and troubled adolescence. He had demons that were larger than mine.

And the worst part, is that he didn't even acknowledge it.

He picked his fear of therapy and getting better, over me.

I screamed and sobbed and yelled until I was so exhausted I couldn't yell any more for a week straight.

I would plead, "Don't you realize that I will walk out of here? That I will take our dog and leave? That you will LOSE ME if you do not suck it up and go get some help for yourself???"

He said he was was too scared. He wasn't ready to get better.

The choices were to either stay with him, and be his therapist, and deal with his bullshit...Or leave.

And so, one afternoon, after having my first panic attack in my therapist's office, I came home and said that I was leaving...

The first thing out of his mouth was, "You mean I have to be alone?"

...Which pretty much summed up why he was with me, I guess. It was better than being alone.

But, it turned out he wasn't exactly alone. He had already started a relationship with a woman 11 years older than him. A woman he worked with. A woman I had met, and was always so nice to me. A woman I was, strangely, always suspicious of.

"...You're really the only girl I've never cheated on."

Sure.

...So.

While I have aquired quite a bit of knowledge in the psychological, emotional, and relationship departments through a slightly more unique way than most...The point is, that I have been there.

That is why these red flags seem so much more obvious to me.

That is why I am so enraged by these "stupid girls" and even girls I know that come to me and ask for relationship advice, and then don't even fucking listen to me.

It's so difficult for me to be a good listener, and not preach at both men and women who talk to me about their troubled relationships, yet don't want to hear the honest truth.

I just wish women would dig deeper, and examine WHY they're checking their boyfriend's phone/Myspace/email, and not be so afraid of breaking up and WAKING UP.

I don't hate these GVs, and women, friends,and men who are still blinded to the truths of unhealthy relationships, as that would make me no better than preachy, judgemental "Christians" who hate simply because they know that they're "right" and you're "wrong".

I just feel for them. I feel for myself when I think of all of the rage, and misery I put myself through almost 3 years ago.

This is a huge part of why I care so much about "women's issues" and topics about women in relationships.

I've been in relationship hell. I've been emotionally abused.

And I've gotten out. And grown. And blossomed.

I'm not a therapist. I'm not "Dear Abby".

I've just lived it
.

Vox Hunt: Got Ink?

Photo: Show us your tattoo(s).
Submitted by Megan.

My first and only tattoo. Got this on my 20th birthday at Modern Ink in down town
Sacramento by a guy named Carlo. I've since heard he's been fired
.
I said, "I want wings. Not bird wings. Not butterfly wings. Not chicken wings.
Not buffalo wings. No scary gothic bat wings, or fairy wings.
Can you just draw me some swirly wings? Like. Ya know? Pretty ones?"

Somehow he understood what I meant and drew these especially for me.

Throughout the 3 hour session I had my sister feed me candy and held paper towels to
absorb the incredible amounts of sweat that my hands produced.

I've never regretted it. They represent something very dear to me....
Inner strength, freedom, and flight.


*Oh yea. And the mysterious crevice on my shoulder would be a dimple.

Thou shalt not fear the word "Wife"

A'ight Foo's.

I know you think I'm the laziest Bride in all tarnation for not mo'bloggin' my wedding, or posting pictures already...

And well, yes, you would be right.

And, all of our wedding photos are in Iain's mum's digital camera... I'll try to get some emailed to me soon so you can all stare at the magical fluff of polka dots that was my dress.

My other excuse is that, well, I haven't really felt like writing about it yet. It was lovely, and romantical, and yes, I did blubber and cry.

It was basically perfect...other than the gale force winds, my "special occasion" zits, the rain, my period, and the fact that the curling iron my mom sent me to do my hair had the wrong voltage so it was either chance it and possibly die, or have straight hair.

I had straight hair.

But, we are married. I'm "wifey" he's "hubaby" and so far we still have a sex life.

We didn't have our own soppy "You are the wind beneath my wings, and I will always love you" vows.

We walked down the aisle together to Etta James' "At Last"...

During our signing of our marriage certificate Glen Miller's "Star dust" played...And we walked out to "These Are The Days" by Sugarland.

Fuck yes, we took our "first steps as man and wife" to a country song...in England.

I'm not really sure how to do it justice and "give details"...It was really nice. It was a nice day. We had a really fun, drunk weekend in Brighton.

We had pizza on our wedding night, along with copious amounts of vodka...

Iain bought me some fucking kick ass ear muffs, and the ketchup bottle of my dreams...All in all, it was fabulous.

I just feel weird writing about our wedding. I don't have words to describe how special and memorable it was. I feel strangely private about it, almost. I haven't really talked about it...But that's kind of how I am. If I'm happy about something I like to hold it in for a while, and think, and mull it over, and treasure it and keep it private and safe.

I may never burst out with tons of details, or I may. Actually, I'm surprised at how much I've written so far, lol.

But what I can tell you how "married life" feels...

It feels THE SAME.

It's exciting to be able to call each other "husband" or say "Dude...We're married." and giggle at my new last name like we're kids faking being adults and playing house...

It feels the same as when you finally are "official" and can say "this is my totally awesome boyfriend!!" when introducing the guy you've been shagging for the past 2 months to your friends...

I don't feel like "OMFG! Finally". We didn't burst into the hotel throwing confetti with "Just Married" signs on our backs screaming "We're NEWLY-WEDS! We're in LOVE!".

I don't feel more committed. I don't feel more secure, or in love, or loved, or safer in our relationship.

At the same token I don't just think it's a piece of paper...I think it's a nice ceremony and represents a lovely idea that should be taken seriously, but not too seriously or weighed with heavy expectations that it will transform, better, or worsen your relationship.

I don't think being married makes me an "expert" or a person of superiority when it comes to the concept of marriage.

The day after we got married, Iain and I talked for a long time about the word "wife".

When I think of what being a wife means to me...I picture Iain and I through our years together, being down at the pub. Growing older and older, but still the same. Still drunk, still horny, but wiser and even closer. I think of the comical yet realistic image of me as a mother. I picture our first home.

However.

The word WIFE....

Through the media, in society, culturally, and traditionally the word WIFE has taken on a really shitty connotation.

For example....

"Do you mind if my girlfriend comes down to the pub with us?"

Sounds a lot different than....

"Do you mind if my wife comes down to the pub with us?"

From what I've experienced, none of the married men in my social circle bring their WIVES along places. You'll see girlfriends, or people that they're shagging, but not their wife?

Why is that?

"WIFE" brings up this image of the bitter ball in chain who doesn't want their husband going out with his friends a lone because she's insecure and jealous and needs to be included so he doesn't have to leave early, be on his mobile the entire time, or "get in trouble with THE WIFE" when get stumbles home...

Your girlfriend will nag, or come along and have fun...But your wife?

 WIFE?

How many times do you hear that word and words associated with it, drip with negativity, and disgust?

"Yeah, ya know, cuz THE WIFE"

"I better go, gonna hear it from THE WIFE"

"The old ball and chain"

"The Missus"

"It's probably his WIFE."

"Yeah, I don't think he can because of his WIFE."

Somewhere in the twisted roots of women being obsessed with marriage, men not wanting to get married, high divorce rates, sexless marriages, Hera and Eve; the word 'wife' became tainted, and now doesn't seem to carry much honor or holiness in society, does it?

Of course the same can be said for marriage, but, for fuck sake I'm not getting paid to write a novel, here.

There are times when "husband" doesn't sound so great, as well...

"Oh I have to go or my husband will get mad..."

"Oh I can't, I'll have to ask my husband, first...."

But I don't think "husband" holds nearly such a negative connotation, socially and stereotypically, as the word "wife" does.

Quite frankly it pisses me off.

What's a "wife"?

Why the fuck are wives portrayed so badly?

Aside from the obvious Desperate Housewives bullshit, there are plenty of other "wife" stereotypes that are portrayed in the media, and pushed upon women in real life scenarios.

You have the "frumpy, dowdy wife" that wants her husband to stay home more, and be there for the kids, even though she doesn't really love him.

The "Mommy wife" who just cares about her children, the PTA, and wants a passionless, picture perfect marriage. This would be the same stereotypical wife that is too perfect and "motherly" to have sex with, and therefore the husband has no choice but to have an affair.

Then there's the "slutty wife" -or WILF- who cheats and fucks all of her hubby's friends...

Or the "gold digging wife".

The "corporate wife".

The "trophy wife".

The "pregnant all the time with 7 kids wife".

.The women of my generation idolize the Carrie Bradshaws and Bridget Joneses of the world....

Single girls who are FABULOUS at being single and hopeless at relationships. They're funny and look good...Why, they're just like us!

But society and the media fail to address the question of:

Can you be fabulous when you're no longer a girlfriend, but a WIFE?

Where is our healthy, intelligent, Carrie Bradshaw-esque, happily married wife?

...No where.

That doesn't make good television, tabloids, or stories. She's boring. What's exciting about that?

Nope. We need XTREME WIVES!

Jessica Simpson! (divorced and stoopid)

Britney Spears! (perpetually knocked up, married to a losah, and now divorced.)

Victoria Beckham! (WAG. 'Too Posh To Push'. Surgically enhanced, talentless, twig of a woman who doesn't appear to have a motherly bone in her fragile, frigid, frame.)

And do I really need to go into what's wrong with Desperate Housewives? (The TV show people, oy. I'm not going there again.)

No WONDER every one on my friends (except my one married friend) have such a fucking ugly idea of what marriage is. I'm not claiming to know, as I haven't been married a week, but FUCK there are no examples??!??

I used to think marriage was the stupidest concept in the world. And according to the impressions society gives us about being a "wife"...Why would we want to go and ruin our lives with all that?

There are some great examples of kick ass Moms out there...Like Heather and Kristen....

But wives that don't have children, but are happy, fulfilled, and in a healthy, loving relationship?

Uuuuhhhhmmmm....They must exist? Why can I not think of any?

I refuse to let the negative "wife" connotations ruin my ideas of what being a wife means.

I believe it takes more than one person to change a stereotype. However, I'm going to bust my ass to bring "wifey" back.

Yeah, I'll be the lone wife at the pub. The lone wife in my social group....

But for fuck sake, Iain and I are going to prove that wife CAN and IS a good word.

It is a word to be proud of... 

And as a former marriage/wife hater I'm realizing that you can change your own rules by not being intimidated by labels or doing something that can be brushed aside by others as "selling out" or "buying in" to something.

I am a wife. I am married. I have a husband.

I am not a stereotype. I am not defined by a label.

I don't cook because I don't enjoy it yet, and my husband likes to. I make choices based on my personal morals or beliefs, not through fear that the choice I'm making will not align with the traditional guidelines of a label I have branded myself with.

I am wife, hear me burp.