One of the things I haven't talked about on this blog is body dysmorphia.
Why haven't I talked about it yet?
Probably because it's a can of worms I don't really want to open and a problem of mine I don't really want to admit.
Unfortunately, I usually see myself one of two ways . . .
1) Some days I see my body as much, much, much bigger than it is. I feel like I'm busting out on all sides—with hips that sit along my middle like a bulging UFO and a butt that people could safely set their drink on.
2) Other days I see myself as fit and attractive and even a bit voluptuous, a modern Joan Holloway . . . without the fabulous rack, of course. I used to call this Shallow Hal disease because on days like this I look in the mirror and see someone amazingly glamorous and gorgeous even if that's not the reality.
The problem is that there aren't many days when I'm in between these two insane extremes, when I see myself clearly. And what I want to know is, why is that? Why is it so hard to have a realistic and healthy body image???
If you figure it out, be sure to let me know. In the meantime, I'm going to put this can back in the pantry and pretend it's not there.