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One of the questions that I was asked for the FAQ Free for All was “How is it even possible that you are as confident and self aware as you act?” I really didn’t take the question all that seriously and was going to answer it in a long list with along with the others.

But then this weekend changed all that for me.

About 8 years ago, I met a girl named S. At the time I was really addicted to online games… you know, where you log into a room and play silly things like chess or scrabble with a group of stranger. Anyway, I met her playing Family Feud. Back then, we formed a clique of women who would group together to cheat the system. We would remember the answers for the questions and then share them with each other. That way everyone would get points etc. It was a lot of fun.

From that, spurred an amazing online friendship where we spoke often, and shared common problems and issues. We always wanted to meet but due to her own insecurities, she put it off and off and off.

Last week she emailed me to tell me she was coming to Dallas and that she wanted to see me while she was in town. I was SO excited to FINALLY get to see S. Eight years is a long time to wait!

We met Saturday evening at a tattoo parlor and as to be expected, we instantly hit it off. She was getting a piercing fixed, and then a tattoo. I sat and watched, and we talked and talked. The tattoo artist had asked her to stand up and look at herself in the mirror and she said to him “I don’t like to look at myself…”

Her words were no joke… she has always been like that. Doubting her own beauty. Questioning who would want her… even though she is married. It has always broken my heart. Neither of us are skinny minnies, so I thought she would at least feel confident in my presence, but that wasn’t the case either.

After she got her tattoo, we went to eat at Hooter’s. There she continued to speak about her own lack of beauty… and no matter what we said to her, you could just see it in her face that she had convinced herself that she was just a big blob making her way through life.

It seems lately that I am having this very same conversation with so many of my friends. It really got me to thinking about me, who I am and how I carry myself…

The Hooter’s is located near the House of Blues in Dallas, and while I was eating, I watched the groups of 3-4 females walking to the building. Four out of five of the groups had the typical “fat” friend… and it was the bigger girl who looked frumpy and plain. Most had on clothes that didn’t fit, or some big flower printed tent that they thought they could use as a shirt for the night.  Far too many of them had not a lick of make up on… hair looking awful. Meanwhile the skinny girls looked amazing. Decked out from head to toe. Is there some secret rule that if you weigh more than 175 pounds you aren’t allowed to also look AMAZING???  I wanted to grab each one and ask them WHY.

Out of all my friends, I am one of the bigger girls. I’d be in the plus size to the world. I’m a fatty. But I’ll be damned if I am going to act like one. When I am out and about, you better believe I am the best looking chick in the room… and if you don’t believe it, then too bad for you, because I do.

And I will be honest. Do I think I am some stunningly beautiful woman? No. Do I think men become paralyzed in amazement when they see me? No. But I will carry myself as if they do. And at the end of the day, I get hit on more than any of my other friends. And it’s not that hoochie hitting on… it’s the “hello miss… how are you doing… can I get your number?”… All while I am wearing a wedding ring with a rock that you can see across a room. I actually get embarrassed when people give me compliments… inside I am all in knots, having major panic attacks but on the outside, I am smiling and nodding… I say thank you.

It’s the topic of many of the conversations with my friends… they say it’s just how I carry myself. Well no shit. And if I, a woman who for years was made to feel as if I was less valuable than a pile of dog shit can pull it together, then so can anyone else.

I have no doubt that that confidence comes from having been made to feel useless and pathetic. I vowed that I would never again let a man, or woman make me feel like I am worthless. And don’t get me wrong, when I am at home I look at myself and wish for a smaller nose, less blemishes, smaller waist, longer lashes, no scar on my lip, perfect eyebrows, and so much more… but hey, I am not perfect. And that’s fantastic!!!! When I leave my home though, no one will know I think less of myself. In the public eye, everything about me is exactly how I wish it to be.

So ladies, and even men… get it together! No matter what size you are, no matter what you look like, no matter who you are or what you do, DO YOU. You are number one. And if someone tells you you aren’t then oh well it’s their loss. And don’t even think about letting them know that you believe their nonsense either.

As I love to say, “If I don’t believe in me, why should you?”

And that’s enough of that… for now.

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Every 42 Seconds Someone in the USA Tries to Commit Suicide

  • Author: Monique
  • Filed under: life
  • Date: Jun 29,2008

I saw this earlier and just because as you all know, I’ve been there, I figured this most definitely needed to be on my site.


Lend them a hand if you can.

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The Chameleon That I Am

Going on with more of my 100th post answerfest…

  • Rob asked:

Why do you hate me?

Well Rob, I don’t know you… so yeah. Kind of hard for me to hate someone I don’t know.

What are some of the comical differences in tastes you and the H deal with on a regular basis?

Girl, there are way too many comical differences in taste between he and I. For starters, he is strange and I am not. LOL. If I take a truthful look at things, I would have to say that everything about us is different. For example, he loves to listen to talk radio. Talk radio. Radio, where people talk… endlessly. I frankly have no desire to listen to yacking after being at work having rich people yack in my face about how important their non-important packages are. He also loves to listen to strange music. And don’t get me wrong… I love ALL kinds of music… However, when its midnight, and I’m about to fall asleep as I am driving home, I don’t want to listen to the smooth sounds of the jungle. He however likes that. So now you know if I ever am absent and come back telling you all we were in a wreck at 2 am, it was because I fell asleep behind the wheel listening to jungle sounds.

(Not trying to be dirty, I honestly want to know) Do you prefer thongs or boyshorts or granny (traditional) panties?

I am not a thong kind of girl… it just doesnt work for me as much as I bend and move at work, so I wear lowcut boyshorts. They are so compfy and I don’t spend my days showing off my panty design to everyone behind me, nor do they get to be traumatized by my ass crack when they least expect it.

  • Mimi asked:

Do you think everything happens for a reason?

I do indeed.

  • Liz asked:

The pictures on the top of your blog; are they all of you???
The last one too?

Yes, they are, lol. Even the last one.

I had more answered but a storm came through, knocked out my power so they will have to wait until the next post.

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