Posted on Thursday, August 02 2007
Is it more bizarre that I found some kind of self esteem building qualities in a toaster, or that I’m telling the world? Hmmm
I am not one to sit around worrying about my body image or size of my clothes. It’s never been a priority for me to be skinny, thankfully. However, I have to admit that once in a while I’ll get a glimpse in a window or mirror of myself that’s particularly flattering and it does boost me up just a bit. I guess it’s normal, and as much as I hate wallowing in normal, it must just be built into me as a female person to oogle my body and judge it based on other people’s standards.
The idea that my appearance is more valuable than who I am is absurd, however, it’s been crammed into my mind forever. The truth is that self esteem comes from inside, not what’s on the outside. I would say 99% of the time I agree, and then there’s the 2 minutes I spend looking at the reflection of my thighs and butt in my chrome toaster.
Yes, I was making our standard routine breakfast the other day, tea and toast. I was waking up, feeling that morning swell around the eyes and general blah in the body area. I was leaning on the counter and caught a shot of my thigh in the side of our toaster. Why would my thigh be exposed you ask? I was wearing my sleeping shirt, which happens to have KISS on the front, and just my underwear. I have pajama pants, but they always find their way off in the night due to possible hormonal heating post-hysterectomy.
So, back to my thigh. I noticed that this reflection was kind of sly and sneaky. No lumps, no bumps, no little cellulite goodness, just smooth tight skin. I looked down at the real thing and sure enough, lumps, bumps, and cellulovely. What to do? I looked back at the toaster of course. Then I started to spin around, two smooth thighs, and what is that? A fully rounded, but nicely shaped, slightly distorted buttocks. How strange it is that I am telling you this whole thing.
I spent the duration of the toasting time enjoying the lie. The bread pops up, and I burst out laughing. When I delivered the breakfast to the computer room I told my husband why I was laughing. He didn’t get it. I guess he never will understand the power of seeing one’s ass through the eyes of a small appliance.
