Talk Jedi to me.
A woman once told me to put a fork in my bra so as to have quick access to it in order to stab men who try to touch me inappropriately.
So now I keep a fork in my bra at all times.
I’ve should have always been self conscious about my hands because my great grandmother tells me how ugly she thinks they are when I see her, especially if I had them painted any other color than very light, almost nude, pink (even though she’d still tell me that they were ugly). And she doesn’t really say it in a mean way, it’s more in a how-sad-and-unfortunate-for-you kind of way, more so like she’s trying to hint that I need to change it.
It never really bugged me, but every now and then I look at my hands and think about all the fun things my great grandmother must have missed out on because someone scrutinized her or her looks and made her feel small and inadequate. I think she took them to heart, even though she was already perfect in every way, and instead of ignoring it and choosing to feel her own confidence, she shrugged away and starting changing herself for that person so she wouldn’t get scrutinized anymore. It just has to be really sad when you can’t look at yourself in the mirror without thinking about all the things you need to change. I’ve never had that kind of mentality, but it can’t be easier. So, I can’t get upset at her for talking about my hands.
Anyways, my New Year’s resolution is to appreciate my hands. It’s simple and pointless, but it’s just some fun.
