Compared to my early 20’s where I wore little black dresses and red lipstick everyday, my mid-20’s is all about leggings with a hole in the thigh and a sweater long enough to cover said hole. I work behind a computer and I bike to to work, so I spend most of my time in sports bras and soft fabrics.
I’ve gotten so far away from the version of myself that I used to know, that I came up with a name for my dumpy new alter-ego. It’s Tammy.
Think about what I just said. I have a DUMPY ALTER-EGO NAMED TAMMY. What even is that in terms of something someone says?
This all boils down to one question: How the hell do I have a boyfriend?
You heard me right. I have a DUMPY ALTER EGO and have been managing to see someone romantically for about the past 6 months. Let’s explore this further……
Reasons why I am baffled and extremely fortunate to have male companionship:
- Yesterday as a 26 year old woman, I learned how to fold a box so that the lid stays shut.
- I strongly believe that if you wear leggings, it’s okay to sleep in them and wear them out the next day, so long as you change your underwear.
- I don’t floss.
- I have hit 5 parked cars with my car total.
- I am the messiest eater. My hand eye coordination is for shit. 40% of all tortilla chips end up on the table in front of me, on the floor, or in my circle scarves.
- I talk so loud that I went to an audiologist to sort out my hearing problem, only to find out that I don’t have a hearing problem, I just really like shouting.
- I cry at every movie I see, and get popcorn down my shirt at every movie I see.
- I was born and raised in Eugene, OR and my parents bought me a GPS on my 18th birthday so I would “stop getting so lost all the time.”
I used to beat myself up a lot for a lot of things, and it is still a habit I’m trying to break. I would give myself the hardest time when I felt “Disty” or “Stupid”. I wanted so bad to be the chill, cool girl, who knows how to work on cars and pronounce words correctly. A self-sufficient bad ass, with the chic, bohemian vibe of Serena Van der Woodsen. But that’s just NOT ME.
I care a lot about things. I like reading 1940’s mystery novels and talking in an vaudeville accent. I like staying in and doing needlepoint and wearing sweatpants. I spill coffee down my front a lot, and once a week my dress is on backwards. BUT I AM FUCKING COOL.
The way I see it, is no matter what, you have to love yourself, laugh at the wack ass shit you do, and enjoy the things you enjoy. Don’t be ashamed or shit on yourself for not being or acting the way you feel you need to based on comparing yourself to others.
Once you start loving yourself and stop the act of trying to be someone else, that’s when the magic happens.
XOXO,
Tammy
milky feelings 