Darkoshi

there's something slightly disturbing
about being so pleased
at being able to feel and see my own ribcage.

skin, muscle, bones.
strength.
a purity...
something very like what dylan was writing.
except that i'm pleased with where i am,
and don't think that becoming less would be even more pleasing.

i don't want to weigh less.
there's no need.
if i can see my bones now,
weighing even less would surely be a bad thing.

although i felt the same pleased with my body
when i did weigh ten pounds less.
a fact which makes my current pleased-ness seem suspect.
surely there's something vaguely disturbing
at being able to see the outline of one's bones?
and at being so pleased by it?

.

i might think i was still somewhat anorexic.
but anorexia, to me, isn't based on how much or how little one weighs,
but on mental obsession.

i don't have an obsession with food and calories anymore,
so i'm not anorexic.
certain thoughts and perceptions of mine,
haven't really changed, though.
i would hate to gain any weight.
being fat is one of the worst things i can imagine for myself.
i wouldn't be able to really like myself if i were fat.
and looking in the mirror, sometimes i look too fat,
but never too thin.

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( more... )
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so, here i am now,
a few pounds on the low side
of my rather-consistent weight for the last ten years.
and it feels so good being able to feel my ribs.

maybe having started jogging last year
has had this subtle effect on my body.
maybe it's made me leaner, more muscle, less fat.

i notice myself feeling good and attractive
when i go a bit below 105,
and fat and ugly when i go a bit above.

but is something still a bit screwed in my self-perception?
if i saw someone else's ribcage, would i think they looked good?
if i felt someone else's ribcage, would i think they were healthy and strong?

Inspired by andrewducker's postings on nakedness...

I slept without wearing my pajama top last night. No big deal, really. It was comfortable (considering that it wasn't nearly as chilly as a few nights ago, when I had to close my window and pull my blanket over me in order to be warm enough... and this is the southern U.S. in the middle of summer... what gives?! but that's another topic).

This wasn't the first time I had slept topless - there was one previous time. I was curious then as to what it would feel like, as well as trying to get over a fear - something happened a few years ago which made me very nervous about the possibility of being suddenly awakened / intruded upon at night, and being unclothed in such a situation would make it even worse.

So, anyway, it was comfortable sleeping without a shirt on. And I don't think I would have any big issues with walking around my house topless either, if it weren't for other people being able to see me. And for the fact that when I look down, I don't like what I see.

But not wearing pants or underwear is a different issue. It would be... icky. Imagine having just used the toilet, and then sitting down on a chair. If you hadn't wiped your bum well enough, you could be transfering ick to the chair's surface! (Instead of confining it to your underwear.)
And if you're a female inconvenienced by the leakage of other bodily fluids... not wearing underwear seems quite ill-advised. (So, perhaps Ducker's "Ewww!" option does actually apply to me. Though I like to think that it's not due to prudishness, but rather squeamishess).


Anyway, as I was experiencing what it was like to walk around my house topless this morning, I noticed that I was very concerned about other people being able to look in the windows and see me. This made me think...

Why don't I want them to see me naked? Because of things that might go on in their head as a result of it... because they might start imagining me in sexual situations... because they might be crazy and might some day try to sexually assault me because of it...

So, basically, it's to keep other people from getting horny over me, and to protect myself. Which seems... not so different from what I've heard of moslem women who keep their whole bodies covered, in order to prevent men from having "impure" thoughts about them... Because the men can't help having those thoughts when they see uncovered skin, etc. And because exposing men to these thoughts is, if not an open invitation for them to act upon them, at least regarded as more of an invitation than when not exposing them to the thoughts in the first place.

So how much different are we in the West, from the Moslems, in regards to clothing? It seems to be just a matter of degree. Or is it just me?