Vanity

No matter what, I'm pretty sure I'm going to continue to give a massive shit about my vanity. I'm not a gorgeous woman, but I'm pretty enough, in a cute sort of way, and I want to maintain my appearance. My figure has never stopped traffic, but I like my legs and I've always had a nice bum.

What I am faced with post-pregnancy is totally uncertain and my Google searches are littered with queries like "shrinking rib cage after pregnancy," "post natal stomach", and "breasts after weaning". I think they equal the number of searches I've done on actual baby care, antenatal information and fetal growth.

Currently my bum has flattened out. The Dude says he doesn't think it has, but then he'd never tell me the truth about that. I think it shrunk, and not just relative to the size of my belly. I think it's less round. Probably my spreading hips are the culprit. Even my loosest pyjama pants I can't haul up around my buttocks anymore. I hate the thought of going through the rest of my youth with a flat ass. I'll accept it when I'm a senior citizen, but I would really like to enjoy my 30s on a nice rump.

I have no stretch marks (Yet. Knock on wood) and at 37 weeks, that's not too shabby. But oh God, will I have loose skin around my midsection? I can't bear the thought. I was given a Belly Bandit from my cousin and his girlfriend and I fully intend to use it. It's supposed to help the uterus shrink back to normal size in a timely fashion. I'm hoping it'll also do my ribcage a favour, as it's spread about two inches. I'm already short waisted and small breasted. The last thing I need is to be barrel shaped. I'd like to regain some semblance of a waist, something suggesting an hourglass.

I've started to gray, something I mentioned long ago. Hair falls out after pregnancy. You barely lose any for nine months, which in my case has bestowed upon me more hair than I know what to do with, and then after birth you lose everything you retained. Some women get bald patches. My hair is naturally so thick, I'm not terribly concerned about the loss of volume. What I am thinking about is the gray hair. All the hair that falls out could come back white. I could have a salted red head.

And I don't know what kind of baby I'll have and whether he or she will be calm enough to take to the hair salon, which I'll be quite desperate to do should my fears come to light. I could wind up looking like a witch.

And let me just say, the very last thing I'm interested in hearing is how it'll all be worth it. I wouldn't have subjected myself to this had I thought my looks were too precious to risk. They're not. I do think, though, I'm allowed to have conflicting emotions about my bodily changes. I also don't want to hear that I won't care. I'll still be me and, yes, I'll still give a damn what my body looks like.

At least my shoe size hasn't changed. I don't have an extensive collection, but I would be incredibly bummed to have to lose out on ever wearing this pair again:

Of course right now it's winter,
and my feet are too swollen currently to wear them.

Groupon Relaxation Staycation: Voucher 1

My Groupon Relaxation Staycation has arrived! Including the weekend, I've been off a total of four days. I've redeemed one of my Groupons thus far. I got a facial and hair treatment at The Andrea Olivera Centre for Ayurveda Rituals. Price: $49.

I've had facials before, but this was a different sort of experience. It was sort of ritualistic, with scents representing different spiritual feelings or ideas. It's based on a practice that's thousands of years old from India. I'm pretty game to try things, particularly if it'll be relaxing and will make me pretty.

Funny thing, was it was located within a condo. This didn't bother me; it was a relaxing spot, but I wondered if that broke any zoning laws. The practitioner was a lovely man and I felt at ease. I got this nice-smelling oil rubbed through my hair and my scalp got some attention. The facial was similar to regular treatments elsewhere, though with maybe some more attention to my relaxation, which I liked.

When I left the place, I was red and splotchy. This often happens after a skin treatment, but in combination with my oil-slicked hair, I was pretty scary looking. Frankly, I looked liked a leper. I quickly abandoned my idea of grabbing some lunch in the area. I don't know why I even considered it. It's never been a good idea.

Now, if I were a shampooer, my hair would be oil-free right now. However, I'm committed to "no poo", so I washed it with water only. I got out the comb, the boar brush, and I scrubbed. In the morning, I was still slicked, so I scrubbed again, using my Priya cleanser on the strands.

And now? Well, it's still a little oily. But! It's soft. It's so very, very soft. And the oil is nothing one more blitz with water won't take care of. My skin is also quite soft as well. Over all, I'd say it was a good experience. I'm in better condition than how I went in.

12 more days off, 3 more vouchers, 1 happy lady.

Attractive

You know something I've never been really able to do? See myself sexually. I'm going to get a little personal here, otherwise known as vulnerable, so bear with me.

Do I have a sexuality? Obviously I do. I'm human, after all, and I'm not in that tiny minority of people known as asexuals (Don't understand them, but generally wish them well in life). No, what I mean is I don't usually believe that upon meeting a man that he will see me sexually. I never have, not even on a date.

I just don't put it out there. Frankly, I don't know how. It's just as well now. I mean, I'm married. I definitely shouldn't be putting it out there to other men in any serious way. It's unnecessary and/or inappropriate. But I've been mulling a few things over in my mind, just how I've related to men, and how men have related to me over my life.

I don't flirt, never really have. And by never, I mean never, at least not well. I just didn't know how and, again, didn't see myself as a possible object of desire. I was an artist, I was female, I was short, I was a little odd, and that was that. I liked to wear flat shoes. I enjoyed chin-length hair that I didn't have to style. I wore no makeup. My Catholic schoolgirl's uniform included loose-fitting grey pants and my brother's old button-up shirts, obscuring my figure in every way. I enjoyed sweatshirts, plaid pants and nothing flashy.

I called boys out on their shit. I didn't laugh unless I really thought they were funny, which was infrequent. More than one person thought I was a lesbian, something which was inoffensive to me, just simply inaccurate. I harboured crushes deep in my heart and nurtured them quietly. Actually, when faced with a boy I liked, I once quite literally ran away from him. Looking back, my goodness what a rude and strange thing to do. But it was typical of the way I saw myself.

How I got there, I could guess. I do know starting in elementary school, the idea of "going out" with me was thrown around like a joke. I remember a boy rubbing a windowpane and pretending it was me, in reference to my small breasts. I was called a duck because I walk like one. This is true, I do. And ducks aren't sexy. No one wants to, pardon the silliness, fuck a duck.

In high school a few boys asked me out and then immediately laughed at me. I heard in my first year of high school that one or another guys liked me, and it made me deeply uncomfortable. I was not raised to believe I was pretty, or ugly, and that sort of attention was seriously unnerving, even in small amounts. Also I had to consider it was fake interest and more about humiliating me some more.

One boy in grade 10 sexually harassed me in my science class. I remember getting anxiety before going to class. At the height of his performance he told me he wanted to "rape me and thump me hard," pumping his hand against my chair, saying, "thump, thump, thump." I had no idea what to make of this. But I think it's worth noting in relation to this post, that my thoughts were not that he was sexually attracted to me and selfishly vulgar about it, but instead that he hated me and was trying to make me upset.

I went on dates in my 20s and led with my personality, not looks, not sex, nothing like that. I had no idea how to do that. I'd wear jeans (These were my pre-dress days), a sweater or T-shirt, a bit of powder on my face, and I'd brush my hair. I may or may not have worn perfume.

And the guys I went on dates with in this era of time, all save one (who was way too aggressive and freaked me out) didn't touch me. They asked me out on a second, third, fourth date. But they didn't really touch me. Not really. Perhaps I didn't look like I welcomed it. But then why would they keep asking me out? Don't know. But at the time I didn't think too much about it beyond, "Hey, I'm kinda funny, so why wouldn't they want to hang out?" I didn't think these dates were all that sexually motivated. Sounds silly, but that's how I felt.

If a man wanted to catch up with me, get me a cup of coffee, I thought it was a genuine offer of friendship and nothing more. Now I look back and realize I was incorrect, but it didn't occur to me at the time that said man would be viewing me with sexual interest. Actually, I think because I didn't see myself that way, I couldn't imagine anyone else seeing me like that either.

I don't think I exude sexuality. I don't think I even sprinkle or waft it. Rather, I think it's like a helium balloon for me, something I have on me, but which is far removed from my person, hovering around, loosely associated with my body.

I've never thought I was ugly. But any time I've felt pretty, it's not translated into feeling or believing I'm sexually appealing, only aesthetically pleasing. Something inside of me has never clicked in that way. I don't know what this has meant for me as a woman in my life. It's not prevented me from finding love. In fact, when it came to love or dating I generally was able to get dates, second dates and find long-term relationships prior to getting married. But I do think this non-sexual view of myself prevented me from having some fun. I didn't flirt. I didn't play the game. I didn't let loose.

It's not been a linear journey. I've considered my body in many ways, in varying degrees. I've posed nude for art classes (Non-sexual). I've taken naked pictures for a boyfriend (Sexual). I slept over at a man's home who I barely knew with no intentions towards him (Non-sexual-- and nothing did happen). I initiated my relationship with the Dude, which was sexual (Or rather I tried to and had no idea how and he wound up making the first, second and third move-- so Non-sexual).

It's only lately that I've started seeing myself differently. It's been a subtle shift in personal perception, realizing that men might look at me in a sexual way, which is funny because in a handful of years my most attractive days should be behind me. To realize this now is kind of oddly amusing. Also, being of interest to other men is less important to me now.

But I don't think I want to be this way anymore, this person who shies away from the sexual side of herself and gets all cerebral about it. If only for my own personal joy, while I'm still young, before I become pregnant, I'm going to make a more concentrated effort to see myself as beautiful and an object of desire. I'm glad I haven't devoted my energy in this way all my life. I know who I am and what I'm about. But avoidance of this side of me hasn't been fully amazing either. Something's been missing. A certain enjoyment of being a cute girl has been passing me by.

Perhaps when I started growing out my hair and building wardrobe made up entirely of dresses has been me moving in this direction, the feminine side of me aching to be seen, to be really seen without being shy or embarrassed. I'm not sure. But I'm going to do my best to re-evaluate the way I see myself. I don't just want to feel cute. I want to feel attractive.

And wouldn't you know it, this is the first blog post I've ever labelled with "sexuality" in the three years I've been writing.

Samantha Brick, because why not?

I'm going to talk about about Samantha Brick. Why? Well, why not? She's trending on Twitter like crazy, defending her article (which f you don't know who this is, you'll have to at least skim the link to understand this post), and her unbelievable delusional perspective blows my mind.

I think I'll do this in point form.

1. When women don't like you, odds are it's because you're an ass, not because you're pretty.  I never trust any woman who says other women don't like her. Women are astute. All of them can't be wrong about a person.

Samantha Brick lookin' like
Samantha Brick

2. This woman is not even beautiful. Pretty and cute? Sure. I'd put her about 6/10 on the attractive scale. Above average, not too plain. She has some more unfortunate features, such as her lips, which are kind of ugly when she smiles, and her eyes are asymmetrical and too far apart. But she still manages to be a pretty sort of lady. Nice skin, nice hair, good nose, pleasant figure. She's probably one of the nicer looking women around the workplace, and she's held up well in her 40s. But that's about it. Her looks are not significantly above par to generate mass envy or admiration.

3. Women can feel threatened by attractive women, sure, but I have found that beautiful women who are kind or unassuming or modest tend to be incredibly popular with other women. Reason? If you've got something amazing, you don't throw it in other people's faces. If you're wealthy, for example, bragging about it will garner you no friends. If you're mellow about what is awesome about you or your life and you allow other people the time to shine too, you'll be well liked. Brag at your own peril. Other people are great, too.

4. And if you pretend to have something you don't (Wealth, connections, educational background) and people find out you were padding your prestige with lies and exaggerations, they won't like you. Now, since people can see your face, if you act like you have the best face ever and you don't, the jig is already up. Bam. People won't like you.

5. This woman likely goes through life with the belief she's better looking than all the women she knows (I base this on her article and the sort of mindset one would have to have in order to write such a thing for the world to read), and this is easily understood by all the women around her, who probably find it obnoxious and unpleasant to be around. As an additional eye-roll factor, it not even being true makes it more infuriating. Normal people find delusional thinking unpalatable, generally.

6. My guess is she does flirt with other men or carries herself in an overtly sexual way. That would easily explain male attention, why women don't like her talking to their partners, and in combination with point number 5 in particular, is why she hasn't got many if any female friends. All of which is far more believable than her assertion she's too beautiful to have female friends, which again, see point 2.

Sorry, lady. I think, though, that this will really sink in when women still don't like you when you're 50+ and your looks are all gone. It's your personality that's the problem. Tough pill to swallow, but there you are. Best of luck to you.

No Shampoo Experiment: Day 11

You know what? I'm kind of granola. It's come on me so slowly and gradually as I learned things and became comfortable with my body and who I am, but there's no denying it anymore. I'm granola.

Did you know that if you stop washing your face and wearing makeup for a week, your skin starts to glow, your pores unclog and dead skin wipes away on a washcloth? I've been applying the same philosophy to my skin as I have with my hair, only not intentionally. It sort of happened quietly.

I've been hyper about my skin since I was 13. This has been mostly positive, I think, because I'm reaping the benefits now of having avoided the sun all these years. I have few lines and wrinkles, as I've had little sun damage, though general aging can't be avoided. My mom was super into sunscreen and was always on me about protecting my skin. The daycare I went to had a policy about each child having their own bottle of sunscreen and it had to be applied three times a day, prior to each of the three scheduled playtimes outdoors.

I'd shield my face from the sun at school. I'd walk in the shade. I wore moisturizing creams that had SPF in it. I started getting facials when I was in college, and wearing anti-wrinkle cream. I never sleep in makeup, I exfoliate and wear mud masks.

But this week I did nothing except splash with water.

Oh my God. Okay, my skin is so soft. My pores are so small and they're not clogged as much as usual. Dead skin? What dead skin? My skin's own oil seems to have conditioned it and now has reached a sort of equilibrium.

I washed my face last night because I had makeup on. But this morning, my face was still good. Not oily, not shiny, not a problem. I am turning into such a damn hippy. And I love it. It's so freeing. I mean, I'm doing less and seeing improvements.

My hair is much more of a journey. But seeing how easily my face adjusted to nothing, I'm very excited to see results with my hair. After doing some research, I think I'm going to eschew baking soda altogether. It was helpful initially, but I think just some apple cider vinegar is my next step, that and getting a natural bristle brush, something that will evenly distribute the sebum through the stands and prevent build-up on my scalp.

My hair still smells like nothing. Like hair, I guess. It's a little softer than it was when I first started this whole thing. Not great, but better. Now the Dude is thinking about doing the same thing. Mostly he's just a typical lazy dude when when it comes to personal grooming. The less he can get away with, the better. At first he thought I was a little nutty for doing this, though he didn't attempt to talk me out of it. Now he's considering it for himself, though I haven't been on a campaign for him to begin.

Actually, since I was a once-a-week hair washer and he's a daily hair washer, I think he'd be in a far greater battle.

It's a two-week adjustment period-- minimum. Maybe it'll take six weeks. Some people take months. Blech, I hope I'm not among them. I'm thinking of adding some rosemary essential oils to the mix to stimulate hair growth. I've never been able to get past my current length because of split ends and such. Everyone I've seen who's gone no-shampoo for a long time has beautiful long shiny hair. I want that to be me.