get free, get free of it.
had a lovely and debauchery filled birthday party for my favorite married couple tonight. It culminated in a topless dance party in the kitchen. I had a blast the whole time, but I left feeling very very low. Maybe I exhausted my supply of serotonin, maybe it is very late at night, but for whatever reason I started feeling like I was out of place the whole time and maybe I didn’t know it. I didn’t want to go home, I wasn’t ready to leave, but by the time we left, I think it had been overdue. I have a very weak sense of boundaries and so I easily end up overstepping them with no intention of harm. I should work on that.
Sista girl needs to get free of the shame, body shame. Shape shame. This sweet sweet lady needs to know how truly valuable she is. That is the thing I hate the most, when people have poor body image and can’t murder the shame. Murder it, take out back and kill your “super” – whatever that is. “super mom” “super girlfriend” “super boy” to the rescue – kill them. Because no one should have to live up to standards that other people set for them. Get free, girl, dance for your freedom. Everyone’s cheering you on except for yourself.
[Edit 11:27 a.m.] My dear girlfriend explained to me that the reason I probably felt so out of place could have been because I tried the Pot for the first time. I didn’t think I had had enough for it to do anything, but with the way my mood crashed, I am willing to think that is what happened. I have not had that much fun in a really long time. Wow.