Indulgence.
I have never had a professional massage. I have never been to a spa. I've never had a facial (um. the beauty regimen kind of facial. ahem hem.), I've only had one intimate wax, only a few times have I been to a salmon for my hair or a manicure (and these few times were all for events such as prom, wedding, and starring in my HS musicals). I have never had a pedicure.
It occurs to me that I might have some deep-rooted issues with certain forms of self indulgence. Particularly the ones connected to body image and beauty.
Lord knows I have little to know problem indulging with an expensive gourmet dinner, or indulging myself in some alone time with a vibrator, or indulging by shirking responsibility and diving into a movie or tv show, or indulging myself in this silly writing project I love so well.
But it would seem that I don't take the time or take the step necessary to really pampering myself every once in a while. This is incredibly difficult to reveal. Wow. I didn't expect this.
Weirdly I am always encouraging other women to do this, to take time, relax, focus inward and allow themselves time to recharge, feel worshipped, feel like a queen, feel beautiful. I applaud them when they take a spa day or go get a massage or a wax or a mani\pedi or go to the salon, even when they bemoan the cost of such indulgences. In THEORY I seem to believe in this practice, in this process, in this ritual.
But I, myself, have never put it into PRACTICE.
A pair of friends of mine wrote a delightful book, a sort of loving instruction manual called An Indulgence a Day with the subheading 365 simple ways to spoil yourself. It is a wonderful collection of great ideas and wish-list-y type things for one's ideal life. Some are, indeed, simple, like: Color. Like when you were a kid, sit down with crayons or markers and fucking color, lol. And, I have to say, this one should NOT be dismissed or underestimated-- I get to do this alot at my afterschool job with the kindergarteners and it is WILDY thereputic, satisfying and whimsical. I think it works especially best as a community activity. Chatting with the kids and other teachers whilst we all color our pages is fun, freeing, and enriching.
So some are TOTALLY doable and easy to work itno your everday life if you just take half a second and make the decision to do it. They range from going green activities to sexy bedroom stuff to spiritual endeavors to self-improvement and wellness, and to indulgence in the purest form like brownies and other baked goods, lol. They run a whole broad spectrum of ways and outlets for indulgence.
But I'll admit that when I bought it I raised an eyebrow and to most of the suggestions I said to myself: Yeah right, never gunna happen. Like 'Get a hot stone massage' or 'get an acupuncture treatment' or 'get a reiki treatment' or 'take a belly dancing class' all sound nice, but definitely not doable for me. It was like I was absolutely on board for or could see myself doing things like 'throw a sex toy party' or 'spoil your lover' or 'find shapes in clouds' or 'cook dinner naked' (and so many things in this indulgence book I already have done, do often, or do as second nature!), but I just could not see myself doing those other things.
But why not? I wonder now why I can't imagine myself ever doing those aforementioned things. And now I'm starting to see a trend in the ones I am crossing off the list with a big smelly magnum marker as "no way in hell' items.
They all seem to have to to with putting my self, my PHYSICAL self, out there in a vulnerable way. See, I can be naked and be happy, no problem. My body is wayyyyy far from perfect, but my husband loves me, finds me insanely attractive (lol, insane might be the key word, but whatever), and I don't really have a problem feeling sexy and sexually powerful with him. Indulgences with the partner are no problem. Lover Massages, new positions (sorry, but if I need a book to tell me how to or remind me to remember to spice up my sex life, I might be in serious trouble-- no offense at all to my dear friends who wrote the book, because sex indulgences should DEFINITELY be included and I understand many, many people do actually need the reminding, but that is definitely an area where I don't need any prompting to indulge, lol), making time for quickies, calling out from work for a day of sexy time and all that is no issue.
Neither are some of the self improvement things like go green or buy new shoes or whatever, (though I'd argue strenuously that 'amke a budget' is in no fucking way an indulgence, lol. I just about wanted to hang myself when I saw that one and it got summarily tossed in the 'no thanks' pile at first glance. See, i get where they're coming from because I KNOW it would make mee feel better, rest my conscience, and take all the dark, nebulous wonder out of my financial sitch, but eeeek. Make a budget? That's a chore and not an indulgence. ever.) I loved the idea to 'take a cooking class with a friend' and other fun things like that that maybe are harder to work into everyday living, but are definitely worthy goals for an 'I should do this for myself someday soon' list.
But anything having to do with me going to a professional and stripping down and asking for improvement to my physical being? Well stop the presses, shut the door, and fuck you very much.
I also could never brng myeslf to use the Free state of the art gym at any of the colleges I attended. And I avoid going to the doctors like the plague. Isn't that the silliest comparison, docs and plagues. But you get me.
Why??
And then, get this: I was reading a website on oil cleansing your skin because of my friend Meagan's recent blog post about how this new method has really helped her problem skin (ok, whatever, I went to school with this girl and she's fucking gorgeous. I basically wanted to run away and make love to her every day all day if she'd let me, and I was totally upfront about this with aaron, lol, who told me I should absolutely 'explore those options'; and anyway, problem skin? Jesus. She maybe had one or two blemishes ever in the time that I knew her, and we existed in a state of high-stress, little sleep, sweaty, gross, unhealthyness in the puppymill that was AMDA's musical theatre bootcamp program. She's insisting that she's got problem skin and all, but that girl, love her to pieces and all, doesn't even know the half of it, or she was able to hide it really fucking well.) and since I have seriously troubled skin (if my skin were a teenager she'd be an emo cutter with bulimia, a pill habit, and a compulsion for sleeping with older men in order to try to fill the daddy role or something) I wanted to check it out.
It looks good and I'll prolly try it, (I mean, jesus, I'm 27 years old and hfeel like I've tried everything and I can't seem to get my fucking skin under control, I'll try nuclear radiation at this point, thanks) but that's not the point. Here's the point: I got to this sentence and started to fucking BAWL my EYES OUT!
WHAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?!!?!? Why the waterworks, sister? Holy Moley! This prompted me to really examine what the fuck must be going on in my head\heart\soul.
Friends keep trying to get me to go get a massage. I avoid it like the plague. I want to get regular waxings, and yet I hem and haw and find every excuse for NOT doing it and thus have NEVER done it (save that bikini wax experience in santa monica after three hella strong margaritas!). I push and push away all these intimate beauty\wellness experiences. Why?
I think it's a tangled and snarled and complicated thing. I don't expect there's an easy answer. I think alot of it will likely have to do with my mother's example, and my sisters too. I expect some heavy chunk of it will be steeped in my devout catholic upbringing. At least some of it will be due to my crippling body issues, because outside of my little world where I exist with Aaron I am actually rather apalled by the state of my physicality, causing me to wish Aaron and I were the only people on earth sometimes. And the rest? I think I must have trust issues. I never liked participating in the massage circle at acting school. It took me until I was quite old to really let myself go enough to drink until tipsy or drunk. I don't like to be out of control with anyone other than Aaron (to whom I often like to surrender complete control. yum. ever seen Secretary? you should.).
My friend Kerry is even a massage therapist and she was giving free professional massages out for christmas at our party, and I didn't even partake in that! Partly because I was pursuing other exciting interests, but also largely because it freaked me the fuck out! Like, honestly, when I saw that she'd set up the awesome chair thing? I was like: Oh, fuck no! how am I going to make my excuses? What can I say? Do you think I'll HAVE to get one? Is there any way of getting out of it without looking as insane as I most likely am???
Not having to get that massage was such a fucking relief, and I don't know WHY. Aaron got one and was transported. Kerry is, from all reports, amazing at her job! But something boged me out about the whole thing, and maybe especially because she is my friend.
And to think of someone other than Aaron (or a similarly trusted lover) giving me a nude back or any other body part massage? Nope. Nope nope nope. nope. no.
But WHYYYYYYYYY?
When I finally do end up seeing a therapist I'll try to remember to ask about this.
"Item 121 on today's glitch list", right Sam Jackson from Jurassic Park?
That's how I feel sometimes, hahaha. Like this great idea with all this potential, but like a dangerous accident waiting to happen. Like I have raptors up in me, and a T-rex who doesn't want to be fed, who wants to HUNT, and this little rebellious dick of a guy who isn't in it for the vision, but who's in it for the money and then totally self-sabotages the whole grand operation but in the end gets boned, or, excuse me, foisted by his own petard. Or eaten up by spitty flare-neck dinos.
Ever seen Jurassic Park? You should.
Anyway, like melodramatic muble-guy says in JP: "I've told you and told you, we needed locking mechanisms on the vehicle doors!"
And I think that's my fucking cue to shut the fuck up for today.
And now I'm here by myself, uh, ahh, talking to myself. Essence of Chaos.
I have never had a professional massage. I have never been to a spa. I've never had a facial (um. the beauty regimen kind of facial. ahem hem.), I've only had one intimate wax, only a few times have I been to a salmon for my hair or a manicure (and these few times were all for events such as prom, wedding, and starring in my HS musicals). I have never had a pedicure.
It occurs to me that I might have some deep-rooted issues with certain forms of self indulgence. Particularly the ones connected to body image and beauty.
Lord knows I have little to know problem indulging with an expensive gourmet dinner, or indulging myself in some alone time with a vibrator, or indulging by shirking responsibility and diving into a movie or tv show, or indulging myself in this silly writing project I love so well.
But it would seem that I don't take the time or take the step necessary to really pampering myself every once in a while. This is incredibly difficult to reveal. Wow. I didn't expect this.
Weirdly I am always encouraging other women to do this, to take time, relax, focus inward and allow themselves time to recharge, feel worshipped, feel like a queen, feel beautiful. I applaud them when they take a spa day or go get a massage or a wax or a mani\pedi or go to the salon, even when they bemoan the cost of such indulgences. In THEORY I seem to believe in this practice, in this process, in this ritual.
But I, myself, have never put it into PRACTICE.
A pair of friends of mine wrote a delightful book, a sort of loving instruction manual called An Indulgence a Day with the subheading 365 simple ways to spoil yourself. It is a wonderful collection of great ideas and wish-list-y type things for one's ideal life. Some are, indeed, simple, like: Color. Like when you were a kid, sit down with crayons or markers and fucking color, lol. And, I have to say, this one should NOT be dismissed or underestimated-- I get to do this alot at my afterschool job with the kindergarteners and it is WILDY thereputic, satisfying and whimsical. I think it works especially best as a community activity. Chatting with the kids and other teachers whilst we all color our pages is fun, freeing, and enriching.
So some are TOTALLY doable and easy to work itno your everday life if you just take half a second and make the decision to do it. They range from going green activities to sexy bedroom stuff to spiritual endeavors to self-improvement and wellness, and to indulgence in the purest form like brownies and other baked goods, lol. They run a whole broad spectrum of ways and outlets for indulgence.
But I'll admit that when I bought it I raised an eyebrow and to most of the suggestions I said to myself: Yeah right, never gunna happen. Like 'Get a hot stone massage' or 'get an acupuncture treatment' or 'get a reiki treatment' or 'take a belly dancing class' all sound nice, but definitely not doable for me. It was like I was absolutely on board for or could see myself doing things like 'throw a sex toy party' or 'spoil your lover' or 'find shapes in clouds' or 'cook dinner naked' (and so many things in this indulgence book I already have done, do often, or do as second nature!), but I just could not see myself doing those other things.
But why not? I wonder now why I can't imagine myself ever doing those aforementioned things. And now I'm starting to see a trend in the ones I am crossing off the list with a big smelly magnum marker as "no way in hell' items.
They all seem to have to to with putting my self, my PHYSICAL self, out there in a vulnerable way. See, I can be naked and be happy, no problem. My body is wayyyyy far from perfect, but my husband loves me, finds me insanely attractive (lol, insane might be the key word, but whatever), and I don't really have a problem feeling sexy and sexually powerful with him. Indulgences with the partner are no problem. Lover Massages, new positions (sorry, but if I need a book to tell me how to or remind me to remember to spice up my sex life, I might be in serious trouble-- no offense at all to my dear friends who wrote the book, because sex indulgences should DEFINITELY be included and I understand many, many people do actually need the reminding, but that is definitely an area where I don't need any prompting to indulge, lol), making time for quickies, calling out from work for a day of sexy time and all that is no issue.
Neither are some of the self improvement things like go green or buy new shoes or whatever, (though I'd argue strenuously that 'amke a budget' is in no fucking way an indulgence, lol. I just about wanted to hang myself when I saw that one and it got summarily tossed in the 'no thanks' pile at first glance. See, i get where they're coming from because I KNOW it would make mee feel better, rest my conscience, and take all the dark, nebulous wonder out of my financial sitch, but eeeek. Make a budget? That's a chore and not an indulgence. ever.) I loved the idea to 'take a cooking class with a friend' and other fun things like that that maybe are harder to work into everyday living, but are definitely worthy goals for an 'I should do this for myself someday soon' list.
But anything having to do with me going to a professional and stripping down and asking for improvement to my physical being? Well stop the presses, shut the door, and fuck you very much.
I also could never brng myeslf to use the Free state of the art gym at any of the colleges I attended. And I avoid going to the doctors like the plague. Isn't that the silliest comparison, docs and plagues. But you get me.
Why??
And then, get this: I was reading a website on oil cleansing your skin because of my friend Meagan's recent blog post about how this new method has really helped her problem skin (ok, whatever, I went to school with this girl and she's fucking gorgeous. I basically wanted to run away and make love to her every day all day if she'd let me, and I was totally upfront about this with aaron, lol, who told me I should absolutely 'explore those options'; and anyway, problem skin? Jesus. She maybe had one or two blemishes ever in the time that I knew her, and we existed in a state of high-stress, little sleep, sweaty, gross, unhealthyness in the puppymill that was AMDA's musical theatre bootcamp program. She's insisting that she's got problem skin and all, but that girl, love her to pieces and all, doesn't even know the half of it, or she was able to hide it really fucking well.) and since I have seriously troubled skin (if my skin were a teenager she'd be an emo cutter with bulimia, a pill habit, and a compulsion for sleeping with older men in order to try to fill the daddy role or something) I wanted to check it out.
It looks good and I'll prolly try it, (I mean, jesus, I'm 27 years old and hfeel like I've tried everything and I can't seem to get my fucking skin under control, I'll try nuclear radiation at this point, thanks) but that's not the point. Here's the point: I got to this sentence and started to fucking BAWL my EYES OUT!
As you're massaging, let your mind drift off to something calming and breathe deeply. Take this time to relax and release some of the stress that your body is harboring. Sit down, breathe deeply, and take your time.
WHAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?!!?!? Why the waterworks, sister? Holy Moley! This prompted me to really examine what the fuck must be going on in my head\heart\soul.
Friends keep trying to get me to go get a massage. I avoid it like the plague. I want to get regular waxings, and yet I hem and haw and find every excuse for NOT doing it and thus have NEVER done it (save that bikini wax experience in santa monica after three hella strong margaritas!). I push and push away all these intimate beauty\wellness experiences. Why?
I think it's a tangled and snarled and complicated thing. I don't expect there's an easy answer. I think alot of it will likely have to do with my mother's example, and my sisters too. I expect some heavy chunk of it will be steeped in my devout catholic upbringing. At least some of it will be due to my crippling body issues, because outside of my little world where I exist with Aaron I am actually rather apalled by the state of my physicality, causing me to wish Aaron and I were the only people on earth sometimes. And the rest? I think I must have trust issues. I never liked participating in the massage circle at acting school. It took me until I was quite old to really let myself go enough to drink until tipsy or drunk. I don't like to be out of control with anyone other than Aaron (to whom I often like to surrender complete control. yum. ever seen Secretary? you should.).
My friend Kerry is even a massage therapist and she was giving free professional massages out for christmas at our party, and I didn't even partake in that! Partly because I was pursuing other exciting interests, but also largely because it freaked me the fuck out! Like, honestly, when I saw that she'd set up the awesome chair thing? I was like: Oh, fuck no! how am I going to make my excuses? What can I say? Do you think I'll HAVE to get one? Is there any way of getting out of it without looking as insane as I most likely am???
Not having to get that massage was such a fucking relief, and I don't know WHY. Aaron got one and was transported. Kerry is, from all reports, amazing at her job! But something boged me out about the whole thing, and maybe especially because she is my friend.
And to think of someone other than Aaron (or a similarly trusted lover) giving me a nude back or any other body part massage? Nope. Nope nope nope. nope. no.
But WHYYYYYYYYY?
When I finally do end up seeing a therapist I'll try to remember to ask about this.
"Item 121 on today's glitch list", right Sam Jackson from Jurassic Park?
That's how I feel sometimes, hahaha. Like this great idea with all this potential, but like a dangerous accident waiting to happen. Like I have raptors up in me, and a T-rex who doesn't want to be fed, who wants to HUNT, and this little rebellious dick of a guy who isn't in it for the vision, but who's in it for the money and then totally self-sabotages the whole grand operation but in the end gets boned, or, excuse me, foisted by his own petard. Or eaten up by spitty flare-neck dinos.
Ever seen Jurassic Park? You should.
Anyway, like melodramatic muble-guy says in JP: "I've told you and told you, we needed locking mechanisms on the vehicle doors!"
And I think that's my fucking cue to shut the fuck up for today.
And now I'm here by myself, uh, ahh, talking to myself. Essence of Chaos.
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