Ugly Betties

This isn't going to be a very empowering, gungho post about feminism, politics or witchcraft. It will probably read like a whingey, emo, teenangst blogpost that we all hate. But it's just how I am feeling at the moment.

I am not beautiful. This isn't a cry for sympathy or people to tell me "oh, but you are, blah blah blah..." It is simple honesty. Most of the time I don't really care. I know I can be beautiful, if I can be bothered to make the effort. But the basic scrubbed me is pretty much a plain jane. There should be nothing wrong with this, and like I said, most of the time I don't care. But sometimes I do.

I am fat too. I am doing something about it, not because I need to be slim, but because I want to be healthier for myself and my kids. My family's health is not great as they get older so I would rather sort it now when it is relatively easy to do. But add plain janeness and fat together and I feel like a total ugly lump.

It makes me feel a bit pathetic though, still being hung up on what I look like. It really shouldn't matter. So why does it? Why does it to me, and why does it to society? When does the mature assurance kick in and you really really don't give a fuck?

I feel like I am in a limbo some of the time. I am too old at 35 to be wearing stuff from Top Shop and the like, but my mum (54) is buying her clothes from Next and Wallis. My mum is cool, but I don't want to be dressing like my mum yet. Is that silly of me?

Okay, maybe there might be a bit of feminism in here. :P

I consider myself to be an feminist, trying to avoid falling into the traps of stereotypes of all forms, yet I don't seem able to get myself out of this one. I know I am worth more than my looks. So why is it still so important to me that I can have days where I can't bear the sight of my reflection. I wouldn't think so little of someone else, so why do I beat myself with this stick?

Answers on a postcard please...