sometimes ignorance is bliss

Thursday, October 18, 2012

You probably won't believe me, but sometimes more information is not your friend. Case in point? My relationship to my body.

Now I've worked long and hard to be happy with my size. There have been some bumps along the road, good days and bad days, because that's life. And yet, in spite of my general acceptance of my form and how I look, I'm still haunted by a phrase thrown out by a VH-1 shock jocky when I was young.

Front butt.

Yeah that's right, front butt. It was accompanied by what seemed to me then to be the worst images of a woman possible. One's just walking around living their life, but when talked about with such disgust by these hosts and followed by serious faces of disgust, I have to admit it stuck with me. Maybe I was already starting to worry about what I felt was a serious lack in the butt department anyway, but armed with this new found knowledge that my abdomen area could/should never be larger than my perceived lack of butt? It was a bad day in the life of Dana.

To combat this new fear that I was turning into the horrid 'fat fear' pictures as plastered on VH-1 I turned to my friendly chub-rub preventative, Spanx. Not only did they keep away the feared rash of death, if you bought the ones with control top my front butt did not look so bad. I've tried a few brands (and let me tell you, I actually don't like the tried and true Spanx all that much) but I can tell you I've always got my eye on how that abdomen area is looking. In every mirror, in any skirt, dress, or pants - that's usually where my eye tends to go first, to make sure I'm not just 'letting it all hang out'.

I've been thinking about this lately as I give in to my fashion wants and indulge in things like higher wasted pants. As I go out in pencil skirts but then have small panic attacks in the middle of the day about where the cut of the fabric, or the wrinkle lines from sitting all day are pointing. It's not fun, let me tell you, and I'm working on getting back to that point where I'm happy in pretty much anything.

Oh, but the reason I'm writing this post and why I'm thinking about ignorance? I did not need a new word/phrase to replace front butt but thanks to xoJane I have one anyway - FUPA. Fat Upper Pussy Area. REALLY WORLD?! Did I really need yet another thing to worry about? Not only did I think my stomach was too large but now I have to worry about the stuff specifically above my vagina? What the f*ck world. I did not need to have another neurosis. The one I have is enough, especially as I recognize that it's mild form of a really f*cked up problem.

So yeah - apparently we should all be concerned about our front butts and our FUPAS. If you're looking for me I'm gonna be over there in the lingerie aisle, desperately searching for the prettiest girdle I can find.

P.S. - that is not my FUPA. You know, in case you were wondering. I'm not so brave as to plaster mine all over the internet.

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