Wednesday, February 23, 2011

I am a giant fraud.

Let me tell you why. It's because I am a fake. I am misrepresenting myself. See, here I am, decrying the use of plastic, looking down on people who keep useless plastic in their lives, and yet I have to stand in front of the mirror every day and realize that I AM plastic.

Some years ago, before I became the person I am now, and when I was in a relationship with someone that I could have (should have) know better about, I went and did something terrible to myself. I got plastic surgery. Yes, I walk around with plastic bags of saline in my chest. To the credit of my wonderful doctor, they are actually extremely natural-looking. No one would guess. Of course, that's because I've plumped up to a weight where they could be the right size, thanks to my PRESENT and wonderful relationship (he's a great cook and we love life, and we eat!), so no one really thinks to question me the way they used to when I was a wisp of a size 0-2. ("Are those real?" What a dumb question.) So, yeah, they got me some great tips while bartending. In fact, I passed up a great opportunity in my professional life because Me 'n' the Girls made such a great living for my then-husband.  But that's another story liberally sprinkled with loathing and regret. Now... now... every minute of every day, every time I look down or look in the mirror or go to sleep and re-adjust to get comfortable, I am aware that I am not natural. I am the antithesis of natural. And I did it to myself. And fixing the situation is twice the cost of getting myself into it. (Irony. Or, a really good lesson.) And I don't have that right now. I have to wait. The guy is gone from my life, and I am a different person than I was then, and I like me whole lot better now, but the person from back then still lives here in me too and I can't do anything about it.

So, who am I really to preach? Someone who has learned a lesson the dumb way? The hard way? The idiot way? Someone who has been there and speaks from experience? I'm just me, really. And I'm not asking for sympathy. I can only talk about the way I see things now. I'm just...

Well, I guess you could say I'm just getting it off my chest.

Yeah. Couldn't resist.