Pretty is not something I often feel

Let me open this one with a link:
Pretty is not something I often feel

Heather Ryan writes from the perspective of the plus-sized woman, and I guess I know something about that life, being somewhat large myself.  It's not the same, but I think I understand something of how she feels.

I have not entered into any sort of a relationship since my marriage ended.  I've had one casual hookup, and kissed a couple of people, but I've not dated or gotten as far as being "involved" with anyone.  I'm not sure I know how anymore.  I miss certain elements of being in a relationship, but I just don't know if I'm capable anymore.

The woman I married knew what I was when we tied the knot.   I think she knew better than I did, yet she still tried to engineer it out of me.  "I don't need you to do that anymore" was a common refrain.  I know better now.  Anyone I was to become involved with now would have to know all, and accept me, and love me for things to work.  "Maybe I'm just 2 demanding," so the song goes, but I've become an all or nothing lover, and I don't want it any other way.

It's not like I haven't been attracted to anyone.  It's just that my feelings are seldom reciprocated.  There are always caveats.  Can't be in a relationship with anyone I work with.  A lot of women who like me are turned off by the gender identity stuff.  I mean, they're cool with me being the way I am; they just don't want to be with me that way.  Some men find me attractive, but either they like the male side of me and not the female, or they're turned off because I'm too far to the male side of the spectrum to be attractive to them.  Those guys who used to message me on Facebook were much the same.

I can definitely relate to not feeling pretty.  It's not that I see myself as ugly.  I like to think my inner beauty at least partly shines through to the outside.  It's this body that puts me off myself.  I've got great legs, and all the walking has certainly helped me there.  My lumpy torso, on the other hand...  It's frustrating.

During my one of my trips out in January, I bought a new bra from Victoria's Secret.  I remember being overjoyed that they had something I could wear.  I got one of their "Biofit Uplift" bras.  "Biofit Uplift" is fancy VS language for "push-up".  I've never worn a push-up bra before, at least not with real breast forms, and so I wasn't prepared for the "uplift" feature.  One of the last times I tried to go out, I had to keep changing my top because of the bra.  I could've gotten away with showing a bit of cleavage, except that my breasts don't look that realistic without fabric covering them.  I ended up changing both the bra and my top, so it ceased to be an issue, but it left me feeling depressed, and that led to me canceling the trip outright.

Last month I went out to Skeptics in the Pub.  Walking from the bus stop to the bar, I bumped into a pleasant-seeming fellow who walked with me a ways before turning home.  We had a nice chat, I thought, except that he seemed to want me to come home with him, and I was reluctant to run off with a complete stranger.  I do have some feminine instincts.  Leaving out the usual self-preservation stuff, I didn't go with him because I got a little of a "tranny chaser" vibe from him.  Maybe I read him wrong, but I don't want to be with somebody who just wants me for the novelty of sleeping with a girl who has something extra.  I did give him my phone number, but it's almost a month on, and I haven't heard from him.  I guess I sent him all the wrong signals, too.

An Unexpected Development

Once again, I've left this blog untended for more than a week. I've been reading and commenting on other people's blogs, but I've had trouble motivating myself to write about anything, mostly because I feel like crap.

I haven't been out of doors en femme yet. The day of the Phantogram show I slept until late into the evening. I had second thoughts, and thirds, and ended up not going at all. I did make it to the midnight showing of Let Me In. This was a good movie. As much as the original, it was not your typical vampire story, though it had a lot of the traditional elements. Chloe Moretz' performance as Abby was somehow more androgynous than Eli in the original, though the producers eschewed the shot from the original which made her ambiguity more obvious.

I did get out this week for a manicure and pedicure. Got my fingernails done in OPI's No Bees Please, which is another one of those sheer almost colors. I spent the last month with my toes bright pink, per my nieces' request, so I bounced back and got them redone in another OPI standby, I'm Not Really a Waitress, which is a dark, glossy red.

Anyway, by way of explanation, I've gotten away from the original aim of this post. I was checking myself out in the shower before work tonight, and I noticed something. My nipples and areolae are slightly bigger than I remember. How big, I can't say. I haven't been measuring them, though maybe I ought to. They're not gigantic or anything, but they don't look as manly as they used to. Don't get me wrong; I'd love to have beautiful feminine nipples (and breasts to go with them). It's just that I haven't done anything to make them this way! My friend Katherine wrote in her blog that such development is an effect of female hormones, but I'm not taking any. I swear!

I should be cool with this, but one doesn't magically grow breast tissue. Now I wonder if I should see a doctor. Help!

Out of the Mouths of Babes

I was out in the yard watching my nephews for a bit this afternoon while dinner was being prepared. They were playing with a miniature badminton/tennis set, but they weren't using as intended. They're six and seven, so I cut them some slack. Anyway, I glanced away for a moment, and I hear the youngest shout, "You hit my boob!".

I turned around to see what was wrong. His brother whacked him high up on the chest, almost at the shoulder, with a ball. I told him, "That's your chest. Little boys don't have boobs."

I can't believe I said that.

If Only It Were This Easy

You've probably seen this elsewhere on the web, but I'm at a loss for anything to post right now, and most of the blogs in my reading list are full of such heavy stuff, that I thought I'd try for a little levity.

http://i.gizmodo.com/5171112/japanese-boob-claw-machine-is-another-bad-way-to-claw-at-boobs

Only in Japan.