I Say Things Maybe…

So this weekend was a thing. Josh was on call and he didn’t get called all weekend! So I hads the whole three days with mah babeh ♥ I was happeh.

We also spent the whole weekend doing pretty much nothing. It was perfect.

But now I have stuff bouncing around in my head. About the smoodge and when she grows up and stuff.

I guess it all sort of started last night because I was depressed for a bit and what I was fixating on this time is essentially worrying about whether or not Josh thinks I’m weird (He says no, I’m pretty sure he means yes but in an awesome way though.) Because when we first started talking I was the awkward geeky teen person who wants to be gothish but is too scared of what everybody already says about her so she settles for morbid-geekish.

Frizzy brown hair, clothes that either hide or just don’t flatter, lots of graphic tees if I remember rightish.

Stuff like that. I barely used any eyeliner. It’s depressing just thinking about it.

And now, because I’m slowly gaining confidence and losing all of my fucks-given, I’m starting to let my outside reflect a lot more of my inside. I’m not saying that I can’t be me without approximately three pounds of eyeliner, it’s just a lot easier and more fun.

So anyway, I worry about what the Josh thinks sometimes because I’m no longer a frizzy brown haired geeky person, but a mostly-tamed red-head with an obsession with body mods(my newest fixation is corset-training. this will have to wait till after I’m done reproducing though.), and black lipstick, and eyeliner, and you know, black anything.

It’s not that I’ve really changed who I am as a person much, I’m just gaining the confidence to express who I’ve always been.

All of that is to basically catch you up on this weekend, and preface the whole smidge thing.

How am I supposed to teach her to love herself, and to tell her that she’s beautiful just the way she is, when I wear my black makeup, dye my hair, pierce myself, and will probably sometime soonish be tattooed, without being a hypocrite?

I know I won’t be lying when I tell her she’s beautiful. The little shits one and already way too damn cute. With her daddy’s soft brown hair and smile, and her mummies pretty eyes, and complexion. I’m not bragging, but I think the odds of this kid growing up ugly are pretty slim.

But how do I make her know that when I’m changing my face, and how do I explain to her that I love my face the way it is, and I’m not trying to hide it.

I think it’s going to be tricky explaining the way I view makeup, body image, and loving yourself in general to her.

I think makeup is fun, a way to express yourself and be artistic, to show people who you are. But at the same time that it’s not necessary to put makeup on or to change yourself to feel and be beautiful. That natural beauty is just as real, and besides, there are more important things than being beautiful. It’s more important to be kind, compassionate, intelligent, and caring, than it is to be beautiful.

I love who I am, with or with out make up, even when my depursions makes it harder. It’s taken a really long time, and sometimes I still don’t think so, but I really do love myself. And I want to give that to my daughter.

I want her to love herself when she’s wearing makeup, when she’s not, when she’s having “fat days” and when she’s feeling on top of the world. That’s something my mom still doesn’t seem to understand. I think that made it harder to find it for myself, but I want to give it to Smidgey. I want to give her all the confidence and the self-love I can pound into her tiny, sassy ass.

Because the rest of the world is going to try to drag her down, I don’t want her to tear herself apart to.

I just hope I can explain that to her.

I’m bad at verbal communication though so the odds are that I’m going to muddle it all up.

Maybe I can just save this somehow and make her read it when she’s twelve after the first time one of her friends gives her shit for not shaving her legs….

I just want my baby girl to grow up knowing that she’s beautiful.