I’m a total tomboy. Have been my whole life. My hair was not any longer than my fingers for more than half my life. I got in trouble from my mom not for wearing clothes that were too revealing, but for wearing clothes that were too baggy, or too black, or too negative, or just because they’re boys clothes. My mom’s also a tomboy. She’s truck driver mom. That’s what I always call her although she’s never been a truck driver. She’s the type. Show no fear, works her ass off, tough as nails. So definitely don’t mistake this as my mom trying to make me a girly girl. I’m just saying that that’s how I am.
Now, I’ve been greatly enjoying my femininism. Something changed when I was with Ryan in the very beginning, and I don’t know if it was due to him so much as it was due to my eating disorder reaching a full peak of destruction; I begin to embrace more of a girly side. I decided to shave my legs more than once a month. Lol. I decided to grow my hair out. (That became an obsession. I am now obsessed with my hair, and I hate cutting it. I only go to one stylist who I trust not to fuck it all up because I’ve been growing it forever. I try to take care of it.)
As time goes on and I begin to continue reaching out to more people and trying to overcome my paralyzing social anxiety, I’ve been working on improving my self-confidence obviously to do this. And I realize that I’m super vain and shallow, I openly admit this, but I’ve been given an excuse, or reason, however you would like to think of it, to work on my physical appearance and experiment a little with things I haven’t gotten to do before. I’m discovering myself, remember? I’m creating myself. And I can be anyone I want.
I can remember only one time putting anything besides chapstick on my lips in about the last decade. And that was the day I got married. I always hated growing up whenever I did try something new like wear a skirt or a dressy blouse people always stared at me like I had suddenly grown horns. They always commented on it. It began not to matter if they were being sincere or not, I hated hearing about it. It was like I was trying to do this as something new not to be a huge fucking flashing disco ball for everyone to marvel at. But right now I’m creating a new me and I don’t really know anyone. I don’t have any close friends, only a couple of people I occasionally talk to you at work who I don’t believe are going to stay in touch after I leave. But that can mean something new that I can be anyone I want, like I said.
Tonight, I felt like the girl who wanted to wear a bold lip gloss. I only had 2 buried in my bag of stuff. (Yes, that’s how bad my girliness has gotten. I’ve kept these make up things that I never used for years. I also have several shades of eyeshadow and several colors of eyeliner even though I only wear black. It’s all stuff I didn’t buy. I either got it for free when I was couponing, or I got it as a gift. Why throw something perfectly good away? I hate waste…
So! I display for you my lip gloss. I was deciding which one looked better. I realize that you cannot see the rest of my face, but my skin tone is a light olive, and my makeup gives my skin a very pale undertone with a brush over of light tan (close to normal complexion). The fact that my skin looks so, so light makes me really like the darker color to give it that bold ‘pop!’
*SMOOCH!*
–> PB
Panda's Privates 