It’s insane to act like the civil war that is my hormones is worthy of forgiveness, as if it’s a crime I’ve forced everyone else to take part in.
It was all my insecurities manifested as some sort of Dali-esque nightmare…the makings of a surrealist film that Women’s Studies majors would go to town with.
Food is our first experience of love and comfort—quite literally, as we immediately bond with our mothers via breastfeeding or the like. I was once fully capable of feeding myself in a ‘normal’ manner, but then somewhere along the way I started to see myself as less deserving of that nourishment—which is to say, less deserving of love.
This message presumes that our bodies are, and should be, everyone’s number one entry-point to the good life, and that the acceptance of these vessels, with all of their squishy parts, will lead to immediate happiness–but it’s totally false.
Just because peppermint bark and eggnog are what dreams are made of (and also EVERYWHERE these days), doesn’t mean society-at-large wants you to try them.
The answer appears to lie in that frustrating space between who we are and who we want to be.
Today’s WISE-UP features wisdom from David Foster Wallace on attending a party.