Zuzu asked people to list at least five things they liked about themselves and their bodies. I thought rather than list 'em, I'd show 'em. Click the picture to see the other four.
I agree with everyone in the Feministe comments who said this exercise wasn't easy. It isn't easy, and in hindsight, shit, next time I'll just write some stuff, because the camera, at least in my clumsy Photoshop-free hands, doesn't lie as nicely as I could have. And I would have been tempted to lie, because lying would have been easier than telling you how much I love my scarred-up, hairy calves.
But I do love my scarred-up, hairy calves. The scars mean I did things, that I was willing to risk injury to do them, that sometimes I failed to do them gracefully, but nonetheless, here I am. The hair simply means I would rather do things other than shave, and there's nothing a bit wrong with that, because shaving is tedious.
No, to be perfectly honest with you, I fucking love my legs. They have always done just what I want them to, they clean up swell, and they don't look half bad in heels, either.
UPDATE: "Brent didn't laugh long once he was scooping his flesh up off the floor."
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5 comments:
You get the bravery award, dahling, and you totally rock. I don't know that I could do that; of course, I have no curtains in my house, so the neighbors would likely really get a kick out of it. It's almost like you're putting out a whole new challenge. Hmmmmm.
It's almost like you're putting out a whole new challenge.
Everyone, repeat after me:
CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CH--
Wait, that's not what I meant. I meant:
Do it! Do it! Do it!
I love the insolence exemplified by the mouth picture. Like "Got a problem? Jerkface!"
Heh!
Okay, I took the dare.
OK, I did it. I didn't do pictures because I'm already doing that Flickr 365 thing, and I'm pretty sure people will be all: Seriously, ENOUGH. We've seen ENOUGH of the body parts, babe.
-Helen
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