I hate my body sometimes. And I don't mean in that 'I'm ugly' kind of way. I mean, I hate my uterus, and I hate the hormones that are supposed to regulate my cycle. Instead, I have to stay on The Pill until menopause because I don't ovulate every month, while some women who shouldn't even be moms can just be in the same room as a guy and get knocked up! How fair is that?! I mean, why was I even given this body when my desire to be a mommy is greater than Mt. Everest?! Why?!
- Mood:
sad
I had such a strange dream yesterday. In it, I was in a classroom, and this teacher was reciting either a children's story or bible verses. While she was reciting whatever-it-was, she was also writing it out on various paper bags (which were brown originally, but later inexplicably became white), and later, the bags were filled with 'goodies' (though what kind, I never found out). Two or three of the bags had my name written on them, and the rest said "Unannounced" (or something like that). Everyone else in the room was quickly grabbing up the other bags, so I was worried they would grab up mine, even though I was taking my sweet time collecting them.
There was some stuff that came afterwards, but it's not really important. Now, as far as dream interpretation goes, I think it has something to do with reproduction (i.e., the paper bags full of goodies representing either fertilized eggs or pregnant wombs). I think specifically the dream was about my desire to be a mommy and my worry that it won't ever happen for me or that I'm not going to be a good mother. Oh, and I think there was also some stuff in there about how everyone else seems to be popping out kids but me.
There was some stuff that came afterwards, but it's not really important. Now, as far as dream interpretation goes, I think it has something to do with reproduction (i.e., the paper bags full of goodies representing either fertilized eggs or pregnant wombs). I think specifically the dream was about my desire to be a mommy and my worry that it won't ever happen for me or that I'm not going to be a good mother. Oh, and I think there was also some stuff in there about how everyone else seems to be popping out kids but me.
Dear Body,
You don't look how the media says you should look. But that's okay, I love you anyway. :D I love your strong arms, meant for carrying babies and small children (and my black hole of a purse). I love your bust, however small it is, which will someday feed my progeny. I especially love your prominent hips, which will someday bear small children from place to place. I love your muscular legs, which take me where I need to go. And I even love your big belly, which will support me through "lean times" and someday support my growing uterus.
As your number one fan, I promise to never count calories or go on some fad diet. I promise to never again treat 'fat' like it's a bad word. I promise to never apologize for being a BBW, nor make others feel bad for being a BBW or BHM. I also promise to treat you kindly, to keep you healthy and long-lasting, and to try to maintain a consistent weight.
You don't look how the media says you should look. But that's okay, I love you anyway. :D I love your strong arms, meant for carrying babies and small children (and my black hole of a purse). I love your bust, however small it is, which will someday feed my progeny. I especially love your prominent hips, which will someday bear small children from place to place. I love your muscular legs, which take me where I need to go. And I even love your big belly, which will support me through "lean times" and someday support my growing uterus.
As your number one fan, I promise to never count calories or go on some fad diet. I promise to never again treat 'fat' like it's a bad word. I promise to never apologize for being a BBW, nor make others feel bad for being a BBW or BHM. I also promise to treat you kindly, to keep you healthy and long-lasting, and to try to maintain a consistent weight.
- Mood:
loved