Acceptance: Part Two
- By Tracy Ames
- Published February 9, 2012
Tracy Ames
Mrs. Ames is an international bestselling author of interracial erotic fiction and a former columnist for several newsletters and magazines.
A native of the San Francisco Bay Area, Tracy currently split time between CT & New York City with her husband, children and a host of pets.
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“What do you see when you look in the mirror?”
That question, without exception, is always a bear trap. It springs, and panic spears us between the eyes – we’re caught between the razor sharp teeth of modesty and the crippling urge to fake a seizure. You see, although we may recognize our good qualities, there is still the burning desire to point out our ‘flaws’ and flee the scene before the bloodletting kicks off.
What is this self-effacement? Why do we do this to ourselves? Because heaven forbid we think too highly of ourselves, and this means displaying any signs that we have in any minute way accepted ourselves.
No, no, no! This is intolerable! We must remain modest at all times even if it means stooping to self-flagellation.
In a perfect world, we would all accept our bodies as they are. Sadly, we live in a world where being peppered with flashy advertisements telling us how shit we look compared to the model with the body of a prepubescent school boy is the norm.
Jokingly or not, we have all committed an act of self-deprecation. For instance, physical compliments make me extremely uncomfortable. Years ago if someone complimented my smile, I would make a hasty retreat, or deflect/neutralize the comment by making a stinging remark about myself.
What was I supposed to do, say thank you? Isn’t that taking credit for my familial genes? I had nothing to do with it! One dodgy chromosome stood between me and the life of a clubbed foot hunchback. I'm simply playing the cards providence dealt.
Maybe I over analyzed the situation but still. Nowadays I say thank you and move on. This isn’t to say I’m at ease with flattering remarks. On the contrary, I am still very uncomfortable but I no longer take the piss out of myself. I didn't/don't hate myself. I have never enjoyed the spotlight...which made life with my stage mom dreadful. Oh goodness..the memories are flooding back!
Moving on...
A fellow scribe and I were discussing this post when she remarked that while being appreciated for her literary talent is fine, physical admiration makes her nauseous. I believe this is a common vein. Let me explain. We stomach praise of our deeds, or the external because it’s a reflection of our exertion – it’s tangible. Example:
Person: I love your shirt!
You: Thanks! I’ve been searching high and low for this color.
On the other hand, since we have no control over our genes, we process physical compliments quite differently. We are born the way we are without any exertion on our part. This is why insults cut to the bone – the reason insecurities are so difficult to overcome – why perceived abnormalities eat away at our self-esteem – and why we find comfort in conformance. The idea is that by looking like everyone else, we won’t be ‘weird’…we’re just like everyone else. This is also why some people meet compliments with as much dread as others do verbal abuse. Being different is simply unbearable. Example:
Person: I love your shirt! The color really brings out your eye. I wish I had your eyes.
You: Um, thanks. My eyes make my nose look big. I hate my nose. I like yours, though.
Note the deflection…
Regrettably, increasing amounts of our children are buying into this rubbish. There are teenage girls getting breast and butt implants and having their vaginas reconstructed.
Let me repeat that last bit just in case its gravity was lost: Teenage girls are having their vaginas reconstructed!!
Aside from a medical condition, it’s disconcerting to think a woman would find this procedure necessary. But for a minor it’s maddening. My friend Rhett, a man notorious for making up words, once said that he has 'embraced his weaknesses and calls them uniquenesses'. Even in his corny, Rhett way, he had a point: we should accept who we are, and rid ourselves of the belief that “If I just change this, I’ll be happy”.
Bollocks! That endless cycle of nonsense will ultimately lead to self-loathing because you will never be comfortable in your own skin. There will always be something feeding the anxiety, nagging in the back of your head. When you feel yourself faltering, remember the example of Eva’s new suite mate who chants a variation of ‘You’re beautiful’ in the bathroom mirror every morning. When asked why she does this, she replied without a trace of false modesty, “Because no one thinks I am.”
I applaud her.
Bottom line, accepting yourself when no one else does is probably the most difficult feat one can accomplish; but it is also one of the most rewarding.
Enjoy the documentary…No, it's NOT x-rated
That question, without exception, is always a bear trap. It springs, and panic spears us between the eyes – we’re caught between the razor sharp teeth of modesty and the crippling urge to fake a seizure. You see, although we may recognize our good qualities, there is still the burning desire to point out our ‘flaws’ and flee the scene before the bloodletting kicks off.
What is this self-effacement? Why do we do this to ourselves? Because heaven forbid we think too highly of ourselves, and this means displaying any signs that we have in any minute way accepted ourselves.
No, no, no! This is intolerable! We must remain modest at all times even if it means stooping to self-flagellation.
In a perfect world, we would all accept our bodies as they are. Sadly, we live in a world where being peppered with flashy advertisements telling us how shit we look compared to the model with the body of a prepubescent school boy is the norm.
Jokingly or not, we have all committed an act of self-deprecation. For instance, physical compliments make me extremely uncomfortable. Years ago if someone complimented my smile, I would make a hasty retreat, or deflect/neutralize the comment by making a stinging remark about myself.
What was I supposed to do, say thank you? Isn’t that taking credit for my familial genes? I had nothing to do with it! One dodgy chromosome stood between me and the life of a clubbed foot hunchback. I'm simply playing the cards providence dealt.
Maybe I over analyzed the situation but still. Nowadays I say thank you and move on. This isn’t to say I’m at ease with flattering remarks. On the contrary, I am still very uncomfortable but I no longer take the piss out of myself. I didn't/don't hate myself. I have never enjoyed the spotlight...which made life with my stage mom dreadful. Oh goodness..the memories are flooding back!
Moving on...
A fellow scribe and I were discussing this post when she remarked that while being appreciated for her literary talent is fine, physical admiration makes her nauseous. I believe this is a common vein. Let me explain. We stomach praise of our deeds, or the external because it’s a reflection of our exertion – it’s tangible. Example:
Person: I love your shirt!
You: Thanks! I’ve been searching high and low for this color.
On the other hand, since we have no control over our genes, we process physical compliments quite differently. We are born the way we are without any exertion on our part. This is why insults cut to the bone – the reason insecurities are so difficult to overcome – why perceived abnormalities eat away at our self-esteem – and why we find comfort in conformance. The idea is that by looking like everyone else, we won’t be ‘weird’…we’re just like everyone else. This is also why some people meet compliments with as much dread as others do verbal abuse. Being different is simply unbearable. Example:
Person: I love your shirt! The color really brings out your eye. I wish I had your eyes.
You: Um, thanks. My eyes make my nose look big. I hate my nose. I like yours, though.
Note the deflection…
Regrettably, increasing amounts of our children are buying into this rubbish. There are teenage girls getting breast and butt implants and having their vaginas reconstructed.
Let me repeat that last bit just in case its gravity was lost: Teenage girls are having their vaginas reconstructed!!
Aside from a medical condition, it’s disconcerting to think a woman would find this procedure necessary. But for a minor it’s maddening. My friend Rhett, a man notorious for making up words, once said that he has 'embraced his weaknesses and calls them uniquenesses'. Even in his corny, Rhett way, he had a point: we should accept who we are, and rid ourselves of the belief that “If I just change this, I’ll be happy”.
Bollocks! That endless cycle of nonsense will ultimately lead to self-loathing because you will never be comfortable in your own skin. There will always be something feeding the anxiety, nagging in the back of your head. When you feel yourself faltering, remember the example of Eva’s new suite mate who chants a variation of ‘You’re beautiful’ in the bathroom mirror every morning. When asked why she does this, she replied without a trace of false modesty, “Because no one thinks I am.”
I applaud her.
Bottom line, accepting yourself when no one else does is probably the most difficult feat one can accomplish; but it is also one of the most rewarding.
Enjoy the documentary…No, it's NOT x-rated
Spread The Word
4 Responses to "Acceptance: Part Two"
said this on 09 Feb 2012 9:29:38 PM CDT
Beauty IS in the eyes of the beholder. I too, need to learn to accept compliments. "you have beautiful teeth" I stop smiling, shield my pearly whites; "you're so tiny" "wow you have long legs" I wear baggy clothes; "love your hair" I wrap it up :). (yeah, don't compliment me and you get to see all of me). I am a work in progress
AND, I do not have a fanny, a yoni, flower or any strange names these mary jane smoking quacks want to refer to the vagina (ok I do have a "slice of heaven, a nectar, a honey pot" :). why do we need to give our body part nicknames?!?!!? |
said this on 09 Feb 2012 9:52:04 PM CDT
We're all works in progress. I still do the exact same things BUT it's getting better. The first thought is 'Oh dear". Compliments makes you conscious of whatever is being pointed out. Oddly enough, people will accuse you of false modesty but it's NOT the case.
Ha!! Those nicknames are out of this world. Yoni? Seriously? My inability to use the 'P' and 'D' words in normal everyday convo is well documented. But I'll be damned if I'm calling my vagina a yoni. Maybe it's a matter of comfort. Who knows. |
said this on 11 Feb 2012 4:47:04 AM CDT
Hello Tracy,
I sent you an email yesterday asking for permission to feature your article in my March newsletter. My readers are going to die. You have such a way with words. |
said this on 12 Feb 2012 7:08:37 AM CDT
Hi Robin. Permission granted. Please check your email. Cheers!
|