Sexy. That’s always been a hard one for me. I’ll admit it. I had this idea of what a sexy woman was, and frankly, I imagined it as far removed from me as the sun is from Pluto….so veeeeery far. I know that logically, this is silly. We’re all humans, therefore sexual beings, therefore sexy. But I ain’t talkin’ ’bout logic here. I’m talking feelings and self-image.
Cute. That was how I have always been described, and how I always think of myself. Cute. Smart. Girl next door. All good things, and I never had an issue with them. Just as you can tell, not sexy. Frankly, it has always confounded me.
But now, I’m sexy! No I’m totally kidding you. I still don’t really think of myself that way. I still think of myself as dorky, smart, cute, and well frankly awkward *Who’s got a talent for putting her foot in her mouth? ME!* But now, I think I’m accepting things a bit more, like I mentioned in this post about being past thirty.
There’s a fake construct of sexy in my head created by the world I live in, and there’s a self-perception of myself created by me growing up in said world. And I’m recognizing the two for what they are. Doesn’t mean they’ve changed or gone away, just means that hopefully their power over me is a little diminished.
It’s made me start to consciously reframe what ‘sexy’ means to me. I’m trying to/starting to see it as an energetic sucking the marrow out of life, combined with a playfullness, and comfortable acceptance of ones physical self. It’s also made me look at the people in my life with this eye and it’s made me realize that damn! I’ve got a lot of sexy friends.