Obsessions

I came across this picture whilst procrastinating on pinterest. It instantly grabbed my attention as it is without a doubt my obsession.

It is a unique juxtaposition of ‘mental happiness.’ I am always striving to be comfortable in my own skin, accepting of my flaws and to just love my body and all that encompasses. I first wrote ‘I am guilty of striving,’ and then deleted. The inclusion of guilt makes it seem like a sin, a confession I must make, but should such a positive self-affirmation be prefixed by such feelings of guilt?

So it got me thinking is my obsession a healthy one? Of the possible obsessions it can not be unwholesome, surely. To become comfortable in my own skin I tell myself life affirming or motivational quotes at any point I face a dilemma or a challenge. I aim to always channel my inner Godiva, I repeat to myself what a strong, independent woman I am; who does not need validation from others. If all else fails I merely repeat ‘What would Beyoncé do?’ Works a treat! How can this be damaging?!

Still, am I just setting myself up for failure? How I long to be a true boho babe, who only eats avocado, mediates at sunrise and is truly comfortable in her own skin regardless of how others view the flowers in her hair. Don’t get me wrong I’m half way there, I believe in karma, crystal healing, and guardian angels. I do yoga, I love avocados, yet there is still that materialistic edge to me where a pair of uncomfortable, unpractical heels call my name or a teensy, probably inappropriate dress finds its way into my wardrobe. I am an imposter in the boho lifestyle, flicking between natures love child and a glamorous label whore.

One extreme to the other, like a true Scorpio, I never do or feel anything by halves and obsessions are inherent in my very being.

So every time I fail to catch that guys eye, find out he was merely speaking to me to get to my friend, or see a beautiful female gliding down the street, what happens; well a process of misery consisting of eating cake and looking on pinterest at these ‘fitspo’ girls. Staring into the mirror wishing away my nose, my love-handles and unruly hair.

This is backed up with a rendition of, ‘WHY, WHY eat all that cake, that tub of ice-cream and pack of biscuits?’ Occasionally remixed with the sounds of pitiful sobs, featuring sweatpants and cat cuddles. Then it’s time to hit the shops – enter materialistic phase; new dress, shoes, make-up galore to try the latest fad to make me irresistible to men – I’m a sucker for the ‘sex sells’ philosophy. Then the feelings of guilt hit like a speeding truck at my stupidity.

‘We buy things we don’t need with money we don’t have to impress people we don’t like’

-Fight Club (Great film, Wise words!)

So, back to affirmations that I am a strong, independent woman who does not need men, nor to compare myself to these seemingly perfect females with their unattainable natural beauty, looking like they have just stepped off of the catwalk or walked out the glossy pages of vogue. In fact I love my slightly too big nose and love-handles are given a cute name as they are in fact endearing and simply make me more comfortable to cuddle. My unruly hair, well, that’s why GHD’s were invented!

Entering the final stage of obsessing about being comfortable in my own skin and eating kale in my comfy African elephant harem pants. A perfect illustration of how a seemingly healthy obsession in fact enables a cycle of self-loathing and a daily yo-yo of emotions. Perhaps this is just me, the dominant Scorpio reveling its obsessive and potent powers.

The obsession of self acceptation is undeniably efficacious, but for good or for bad?