I can’t believe how much easier this is getting with every day that has gone by. I jotted down a couple of things that I have noticed:
First of all, I can feel myself trying to detach a bit as a way of coping. If I close my eyes and really pay attention to what is going on inside of me, I would say it’s almost like a coldness washes over my emotions, just for those 30 seconds before I walk out naked. If I could put this feeling into words it would come out something like this, “Okay, you know what? Fuck, whatever, right? Who fucking cares. If anyone thinks my boobs are stupid, well then they can write me a cheque for a boob job.”
So, this is a coping mechanism, which is fine and everything for that moment. If that “fuck you” mentality pushes me off the edge, then grace can take over from there. Whatever it takes for me to make that first step is fine.
But I don’t want my Self to get stuck in that cold place. I want to warm up and grow in maturity and strength from this project. I want my stature to evolve from defiant compensation to gentle authoritative love. This is my hope, and I can feel it happening with each passing day. Those 30 seconds of coldness are becoming shorter and the love and grace I have been receiving is growing much larger.
Unfortunately, my boobs still look exactly the same.
They’re still the stupidest things I’ve ever seen. Don’t even for a second get me wrong about that.
But they’re mine, they’re me and I am enough.