There is a connection.
I knew a man who was given a Speedo for his birthday as a gag gift and he actually wore it. Nobody gives somebody a Speedo as a real gift; they’re given as part of a party that has black balloons. Perhaps about 1% of the male population can actually wear one and look good, but they shouldn’t either! O.K., there is another way to look at this, maybe we should be happy for them and their inflated view of themselves. Be proud of who you are, imperfections and all, and flaunt it!
Personally I know only one woman of all my friends who thinks like this man did. As well she should-she’s very pretty. I have lots of friends who don’t see their beauty. Many of us have, as my oldest daughter tells me a ‘skewed body image.’ It isn’t until five or ten years later when we look at an old driver’s licenses and think, hum, I looked pretty good then. When we look back on today’s driver’s license photos years from now, we’ll think the same thing, so why don’t we shift how we see ourselves today?
I told my attractive friend that when a man looks in many women’s direction, they tend to look over their shoulders assuming he’s looking at someone else. She told me that she always assumes he’s looking at her, and if he isn’t, what’s the matter with him? This level of confidence is attractive all by itself.
Years ago someone jokingly called me Patty-No-Butt. Until then I thought I had a rather nice rear-end, but after I heard this for the first time something shifted. I guess I didn’t have such a nice rear end.
I ordered undies with fake buns built in. I ordered two sizes; small and medium, to see which ones looked the best in my jeans. Seriously. I put the medium buns on first and pulled up my jeans. The song, Baby Got Back, came to mind. A little too much. I tried on the small; pulled on the jeans again and well, big buns looked silly on me. I tried them both on with dresses-no good. I put them in a drawer.
Many months later I realized-and honestly it took someone telling me- I had a ‘nice tush’ —that I was fine just the way I was. Why did I need someone to tell me? I am now comfortable in my own skin and don’t need anyone to tell me nice things to believe the best in myself.
So what happened to the fake buns? I considered mounting the bottoms on the wall as a reminder never again to allow someone to make me feel less than I am. Nah…One day I ended up putting them in the bottom of a bag I took to Good Will and hoped like heck that they didn’t open the bag until I was gone! I hope no one bought those fake buns, but if they did, that they eventually threw them away.