The summer before I started college, I vowed to myself that I would become a new me. A better me. That I’d go through the transformation that they’d show on TV, and suddenly my life would be better. I was sick and tired of feeling worthless, of the popular white girls bullying me because I didn’t match the beauty standards set in place. I wanted to be pretty.
So this is what I did: I became a ‘new’ me.
As the years go by, more people are joining social media and posting almost every second of their lives, as if the rest of the world really wants to know. Don’t get me wrong though, because I used to be one of those people. Social media allows us all to hide behind our profiles, and it gives us an opportunity to be whoever we want.
I used to be obsessed with Instagram. When I first made an account, I was 14. I took pictures on top of my dad’s trucks, and of my shoe collection, because those were the things that were cool to me. By the time I started high school, I realized that I was quite unpopular, and I just wanted to be noticed. I decided to delete my account, and create a new one – for the new me.
The new me was really into my appearance. I went from taking selfies in a “Cool Story, Bro.” t-shirt, to taking selfies with all of my older sister’s clothing. I learned how to position the camera in ways that made my double-chin disappear, and made my face look “cuter”. I became so obsessed with selfies that I would literally take one everywhere. Throughout my high school career, I noticed my followers had gone up from the 15 I had from my first account, to 700+, even though my profile was private. I was ecstatic! Finally, people were noticing me. Kids that I was dying to be friends with my freshman year were now complementing me as I walked the halls during sophomore year.
Even though I started to get noticed, I honestly didn’t like all the attention I was getting. People were now viewing me in a lustful way, and nobody was really trying to get to know the real me – and that’s probably because I wasn’t quite advertising the real me. I decided to let the real me shine. Instead of getting creative with all the angles and lighting to take the “perfect selfie”, I decided to become more creative with my captions, since the real me actually likes to write. I felt a lot more comfortable with myself and the things I was posting, than I did when I was seeking popularity.
I want people to see the real me, instead of just half of my face and duck lips. I’ve made my profile more about my life, with the occasional selfie here and there, instead of just a shrine to the new – now old – me. Any picture can be perfect, you just have to be yourself.
When I was born, my mother was so happy to have had a girl. I was quiet, shy, and the ideal “dress me up-baby doll” (about 2 hairsprays away from Toddlers & Tiaras ;p)… Continue reading
Last March I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, otherwise known as PCOS. When I heard this, I felt like not only were things starting to make more sense, but like I didn’t have to blame myself for my weight gain.
I was sitting out on my grandma’s porch when she decided to tell me that I would apparently look perfect if I got double-eyelid surgery.
The Day I Taught My Mom How To Take A Selfie (2006)
I am proudly, unabashedly, fond of selfies. Even before the advent of the camera phone and the digital camera, I was taking pictures of myself on film — the anticipation of what would come back from the lab always excited me. It’s amazing to me that we can so easily create images of ourselves, and the fact that our ability to do this is, historically speaking, Kind Of A Big Deal, is never far from my mind.
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WARNING: TODAY, SEPTEMBER 23, IS BI VISIBILITY DAY. ALL BISEXUALS ARE REMINDED TO AVOID COMMITTING ROBBERIES TODAY, AS YOU WILL BE VISIBLE, AND YOU WILL GET CAUGHT.
All humor aside, hi there, I’m bisexual, and I’d like that to be more visible than it is.
Going forward I will keep in mind what working in retail has taught me about my own body. My limits are often defined by what it is expected that I do at my job. Yes, this is where I work, and yes I will do what is asked of me. But it might be time to take a closer look at what all of this work is really doing to my body. Continue reading
Chubba- lubba, fat, obese, overweight, unhealthy, gross, big, chubby. Just a few of the names I’ve been called for as long as I can remember, and continue to be called. Continue reading
The other day was a YAS moment! As soon as we brought up the norms of society, my attempt to go with norms of society experience popped in my mind.
I was never the student to get in trouble or head down the wrong road. The person I’ve become since I’ve been in college is not the person I would like to continue to be. When I arrived at college, I wanted to have the entire “college” experience. Throughout high school I was never the type to go to parties and drink, I never saw the need nor cared for it. So coming to college was a huge adjustment. I had the idea of “everyone comes to college to experiment,” so why not experiment with drinking?” The following is about my embodiment involving hegemony. Continue reading
Unruly Bodies 