Sleeping

Someone I follow on twitter got some flak for his avatar of his face. It reminded me of how outraged I get at that particular injustice. When B & I were very first talking (before we even met in person) he would get really mad at people walking past his window. If I recall correctly, he lived in an apartment up against a hill, so people walking on the path outside could look "down" into his window. We had some discussions about how he kept his blinds tightly shut at all times because he didn't like people looking in at him. To which I replied, "who cares?"

Who cares what people think or feel when they look at us? Do we owe the world some platonic ideal of beauty inside and outside of our own homes? I guess the heyday of "hot or not" is over because no one really talks about that anymore, but the virulent judging never ends. May I please wear leggings even though I'm fat? Can my belly stick out? Is that okay with you? If I'm a size zero, must I hide my shoulder blades or my thin wrists so as not to scare the children? Why don't you think of the children before you venture out into the world with your uncombed hair and your stained t-shirt?

I am allowed my space in the world. And I am allowed my looks in the world. I am allowed these things by virtue of my existence. By my innate right to be. And I will not feel shame about it.

So if I ruin your day with my hideousness then I consider that a day well spent.