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Writing Workshop #13

February 18, 2010

Prompt 1. Write an honest description of what you look like right now. – Inspired by Nickie at Typecast whose post made me smile.

What do I look like. Let me think. It’s Monday evening. I’m just about to jump on the exercise bike but while I’m upstairs I thought I’d take a minute to really look in the full length mirror in our bedroom at what I look like.

I see an overweight woman. Unfashionably (unfatshionably? For those following my Twitter rant at Grazia last week) attired in plain black trouser, a black t-shirt and long black cardigan. All creased and covered in dog hairs. I’d like to think I looked slightly more pristine as I left the house this morning but I very much doubt it. I’m wearing my husband’s black socks and a nice chunky black necklace from Asda which at least makes me feeling like I’m giving a nod to current trends.

My nails are too long and not buffed. I picked off my dark grey nail varnish at the weekend so they’re scratched and flaky. My hands are covered in paper cuts and scratches (tiredness leading me to clumsiness recently).

My top is quite low so there’s some cleavage on display. Not as much as I’d like there to be but as my boobalicious E cups have been (quite literally) drained by breastfeeding there’s not as much cleavage to display anymore.

My hair is a faded red, obviously in need of some TLC and hair dye. It lies about seven inches past my shoulders, well most of it does. It’s so split to buggery that strands are lying just about any length now. My side swept fringe is too long and tucked behind my ears, prone to falling in my eyes when I’m doing anything and annoying the hell out of me.

My face looks tired and in need of more make up. The cosmetics so carefully applied at 6.30 this morning have blurred and faded revealing an attractive spot on the side of my nose, the eczema under my eyes and some stunningly beautiful spider veins. My eyes are dark brown, I want to say hazel to sound more interesting but I would be lying. My perfect retrousse nose doesn’t quite belong on my face. Indeed up to 2003 and a team of skilled surgeons it wasn’t the nose on my face – that was slightly bigger with a bump *shudder*. There are laughter lines around my eyes and mouth., a few frown lines on my forehead. These don’t bother half as much as L’Oreal think they should. I’m getting older, of course I’ve got some lines! I’m not paying £50+ for a cream to get rid of them, what’s the point?

I look tired and drained and it’s only 7.30pm. Sam is in bed, I’ll do half an hours cycling, shower then go downstairs to wash up, clean and put some laundry on. I’ll mean to go to bed at 9pm because I want rid of the bags under my eyes but instead I’ll watch America’s Next Top Model and then Glee.

Taking my clothes off before I exercise (I cycle in just my knickers – isn’t that a lovely thought for you!) I’ll look at myself up and down in the mirror and find everything lacking. Or rather, everything excessive. My flappy pouch above my c-section scar, criss crossed with now silvery stretch marks thanks to my lovely son. A flat but large arse, thanks to the lovely McDonalds and my big boned paternal grandmother. Chunky thighs with skinny calves (why? And how?) Small (size 5) feet with a tattoo on each and chipped black nail varnish. I really need to sort that. In short, I don’t see much of interest or attractiveness. I have to rely on others to tell me if I look good because I so rarely feel it. Vain and annoying though it is. Saying that, since I lost the bulk of the weight there have been days when I’ve felt almost normal so I guess I’m getting there.

What I see in the mirror isn’t great by any stretch of the imagination but you know what? This saggy, overweight, under dyed, over processed, tired person has a wonderful son and husband, a caring family and many friends so I will see someone who is loved, who is cared for. Someone who laughs and likes to make other people laugh. Someone who may be hurtling towards 30 but still feels 15. Someone who is trying to care less about what’s on the outside and realise that, cliché or not it is in fact what’s on the inside that counts.

9 Comments leave one →
  1. February 18, 2010 11:33 am

    cliché often come about because they are true. The inside is the most important bit.

  2. February 18, 2010 12:24 pm

    I’m so glad you finished on a positive – your body is like a visual story of your life – everything that has happened to you is etched on you and IS you. Does that make sense?

  3. February 18, 2010 5:50 pm

    You remind me of a saying that goes a little like this… ‘I may not be beautiful but at least I’m not like you, ugly to the core. I may lose weight, restyle and re-shine – you will always be mean.’

    Or words to that affect.

    Not that you are any of those things, just that’s what I think when I despair about my outward appearance. I’m sure you are a beautiful person – inside and out.

  4. February 19, 2010 9:58 am

    Yay it’s working!

    Well missus. I think you are beautiful, inside and out. I would think it even if you hadn’t lost any weight, I will think it even if you put it all back on again.

    I just think you’re ace frankly.

    This is a gorgeous post. I love it.

  5. February 22, 2010 9:02 pm

    LOL-never thought about cycling just in my knickers. 🙂

    The inside is what counts.

    I would love though to see you write a post just about the nice physical attractive qualities you have and also reiterate the positive non physical qualities. I am sure you can do it. And I am sure you have many many positives-more than you described.

  6. notsuchayummymummy permalink*
    February 23, 2010 11:24 am

    I’m sorry I haven’t had chance to reply individually, one of those weekends!
    Thank you all for your lovely comments.
    newdaynewlesson- you’ve inspired me to write a post about my good bits!

  7. March 1, 2010 12:54 pm

    What a fun exercise, andI have to say that tatoo looks like it hurt!

    • notsuchayummymummy permalink*
      March 1, 2010 4:35 pm

      It really did!

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