As a good many of you know, I am one of EdenFantasys‘ Social Media Coordinators, and the Community EoC (Expectations of Conduct) Manager. I run our main Twitter account and Facebook Fan Page. I also handle abuse reports and step in to settle things down when they get overheated within the community. I work from home as an Independent Contractor (IC) here in Independence, MO, and it’s awesome to have the privilege to work from home. I work with an amazing team, I get a weekly paycheck, I get to help and watch EdenFantasys grow, both as a business and as a sex-positive community, and I get to meet scores of like-minded people. However, some people have misconceptions about working from home and for a sex toy retailer, and so I decided to set the record straight.

Misconception #1: “You work for a sex toy store?! Wow, it must be great having a job where all you do all day is try out sex toys!”

Reality: There is no such job at EdenFantasys (and most likely at other retailers, too) where you spend your work hours masturbating with sex toys. Given that I work from home, I don’t get to see or even handle the new toys we carry as they come in. Sure, there are some instances where we get our hands on sex toys before everyone else, but it’s not a daily occurrence. The staff does review toys just like every other contributor, but that’s on our own time. Sorry, but the truth is we don’t get paid to masturbate or write reviews. (Not that it would be a bad thing if we did.)

Misconception #2: “So, you, like, just do your job whenever you feel like it?”

Reality: Not exactly. Yes, my schedule is more flexible than it would be if I worked outside the home, but there are still deadlines, stuff that must be done with a certain time frame. EdenFantasys may be “open” 24/7, but it’s during the daylight hours that we are the busiest, so it makes sense to do the bulk of our duties during this time. The main office (in Atlanta) works a more 9-5 schedule, and it’s important to be around and working when they are. If anything, working from home requires a good bit of self-discipline. Not just anyone can work diligently from home. My home office is in my bedroom, and I am surrounded by temptations every day, but I don’t work in a bubble, and I work 40 hour weeks.

Misconception #3: “I’d love to work from home and be my own boss!”

Reality: There is a big difference between working from home and being you’re own boss. Technically, you can say that as an IC technically I am self-employed – in fact, that’s how I file my taxes – but I am not my own boss. I contract my skills and services to Web Merchants, Inc. (EdenFantasys’ parent company), but I have a boss I answer to (Carrie Ann) and she answers to our President and Founder (Fred Petrenko). We all telecommunicate via Skype, and anyone can ping each other at any time. In essence, I do have people looking over my shoulder, just not in the literal sense; I am still called to task when my performance leaves something to be desired.

Misconception #4: “I bet your workload is small compared to mine!”

My workload varies. I have a basic set of daily tasks I perform that are predictable, but as with a lot of jobs, things crop up here and there that must be tended to. It isn’t merely a case of, “OK, I have my basic duties done, I’m calling it a day!” I look at the big picture in terms of the company and the community, and I brainstorm and work with my team to improve EdenFantasys all the time. For me, a personal rule of thumb is: If I find I have lots of time to piss off during the day, what more could I be doing? Is there a project that I could provide feedback on? Is there something that needs work, and I can draft a proposal for? I’ll ask Carrie Ann if there is something she needs help with, or she’ll come to me with a task that needs to be worked on. There is never a short supply of work to be done.

Misconception #5: “You were just a contributor and toy reviewer for EdenFantasys before you started working for them, so that means if I do the same I’ll eventually work for them, too!”

Reality: It’s true, many of the staff who telecommunicate started off as contributors/sex toy reviewers for EdenFantasys. However, securing a job with them wasn’t that simple. Sure, it helped the company to make their decision to hire us based on our dedication and loyalty to EdenFantasys. And skills are invaluable, of course, but there is also a certain something-something that indicates to them that a person might be a good fit for the company. What that is, I can’t really say, but it’s apparent that EdenFantasys knows it when they see it. It’s not something easily articulated; it’s more of an “A-ha!” moment. Also, there are only so many positions to be filled just like in any other job. As time passes and we grow, sometimes a new position needs to be created, or one that was vacated needs to be filled. So, while I won’t say you’ll never get a job with EdenFantasys, I will say don’t make assumptions about how one comes to work for EdenFantasys without knowing the facts.

Misconception #6: “You must save a lot of money on gas!”

Reality: OK, that one is true.

And there you have it folks—the reality of working from home for a sex toy shop. It has its perks, but it’s an actual job that requires a lot of work, adjustments, scheduling, and work-arounds on my part, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

We sex toy buyers and reviewers see this word on various kinds of packages: “Sold as an adult novelty only.” I’ve noticed plenty of people (mostly toy reviewers) get upset over the word “novelty” as though the manufacturer put it there to insult their intelligence. Or they see it as evidence that a toy is of lower quality. Except, of course, when they see it printed on the package of a high quality toy. Then I think they are just confused.

But I have a theory. Sex toys are illegal in a few states, right? I think manufacturers use the word “novelty” to get around the illegality. Look at head shops. For those of you who don’t know, head shops are widely known for their marijuana paraphernalia. However, as we all know, casual marijuana use is illegal in the US, so to avoid prosecution they use lingo like “tobacco accessories.” I mean, c’mon—we know the real purpose for their goods, their patrons sure as hell know the real purpose, but they take it so seriously that you can’t even utter the word marijuana in a head shop without getting kicked out. You would, too, if you knew the laws surrounding possession and selling of marijuana and/or related paraphernalia.

I don’t know for certain, but I don’t think the laws surrounding possession and selling of sex toys is nearly as severe as those for marijuana, but it’s still very costly and hurtful for businesses to get caught breaking the law. I think some reviewers—and perhaps even a few non-reviewers—are in a little bubble of community that encourages and exalts the use of sex toys, and they forget that it’s still not socially acceptable in many circles along with the legality issue. I believe that living in this cozy bubble leads to the snooty attitude regarding the use of “novelty.”

But you know what? Even if my theory is wide of the mark, I still don’t understand why some people get so upset over it. Is it really such a terrible thing? I guessing it’s not, but there are those who just have to complain about something no matter how insignificant it may be.

Me, I prefer to go with the flow and enjoy my novelty items without becoming anal retentive over every little thing. Now, isn’t that a novel idea?

Not too long ago I wrote about people hating on guys with big penises. Today I want to write about the guys on the other end of the spectrum; specifically those who like to be humiliated because of their small penises. Now a lot of guys don’t like it when people make fun of the size of their dicks. But it seems to be a favorite thing for some women to do, especially after an acrimonious break-up. “He had a penis the size of a 6-month-old baby.” Way to be classy. Do these women really have to stoop to that level? If small penises disappoint these women and leave them unsatisfied, why the fuck do they stay with these guys for so long? Did you always secretly hated his penis and only now your true feelings come out, or was it just fine until the break-up but now you think it’s a sure-fire way to hurt his pride? Either way, it’s a cunt-ish move.

But what about the guys who enjoy such humiliation? The ones who not only want to be told their penis size is similar to that of an infant, but want to be cuckolded while their SO gets fucked by a larger equipped man? I can be comfortable with the prospect of being with a man with a smaller than average penis, but intentionally humiliating that same man makes me a bit uncertain. I can usually take a partner’s initially off-putting kink and make it work for me because they get so much pleasure from it. But small penis humiliation kink conflicts with my size-doesn’t-matter attitude.

I know that people generally don’t need rescuing from their kinks, but you’ve got to wonder how it all started for them. Was it a negative experience that they found a way to twist into something erotic? I find it hard to imagine that the starting point for this kink is rooted in anything positive. But then there are other kinks that developed from negative experiences. What makes this one different? I think for me it’s because I’ve always defended men who were ridiculed by women and even other men. Granted, those situations are non-sexual and meant to be hurtful, rather than loving and taking place in a consensual environment.

Admittedly, I’ve never been faced with a partner with this particular kink. But I ponder it every time I come across a guy who does. Could I verbally humiliate a partner, knowing that he wants it and gets off from it? Or would I want to try to “rescue” him from his kink? Can a man be confident and comfortable with himself and still enjoy penis humiliation?

I suppose it really shouldn’t matter. As long as the guy is happy and derives pleasure from the humiliation, then I should be able to find it within myself to indulge his kink. However, this is one kink that I think I would take care to make sure it’s not something that should be remedied.

It’s that time of the year again. The jewelry and chocolate companies are pushing their wares harder than usual, and people are making plans for Valentine’s Day. Eden Café has been all about the romance of late, which is fine. But I’m going to write something a bit different. I’m going to talk about what annoys me not about the day itself, but a majority of people who celebrate it. I could go complain about how it’s a commercialized day, but that’s just business. I could also complain that commercials and other advertisements perpetuate stereotypes, but they are catering to people who fit those stereotypes. Why else would they spend the money on the ads if people like this don’t exist or are a minority?

I think perhaps the most annoying things (for me) about Valentine’s Day are single women who bemoan their status on this particular day. Some mope, some whine, some bitch, some do combinations of or all three. Before I go any further, if you’re female and you’re reading this and you’re nothing like the women I describe—kudos to you. But these women do exist. I’ve met a few of them. And I can’t stand them. These are the women the ads I mentioned in the first paragraph cater to. And these women drink it up like they’re drowning, and piss and moan when they don’t get exactly what they want on V-Day. I believe these women just might be the majority.

I remember when I was twenty-one and working my very first job. The one and only V-Day I endured while working there came along and the single women started their ritual complaining about being alone. We were a relatively small group of workers all total, so there was maybe two or three single women. I wasn’t really annoyed with them, just disappointed that they were so wrapped up in their status and V-Day itself. I went out and bought large chocolate hearts and gave one to each of the single women. I was like, “See, you have chocolate for Valentine’s Day and you didn’t even need a man to get it. You can enjoy the day without having to be in a relationship.” While they were pleased and thought I was quite cute for bringing them sweets, I somehow doubt they truly understood what I was getting at.

While I don’t seek it out for myself, I do understand the desire to be with someone, and to have them show you how they feel. But aren’t their better (and cheaper) ways to do it than with cliché flowers, chocolate, and jewelry? And why must it be on that specific day? For some people, it really is the only day of the year where their partner shows their love and appreciation for them. And that is terribly sad. But if your partner shows their love for you in non-materialistic ways, but you’re put out unless they get you a diamond ring or some other expensive trinket or whatever? Then I think it’s time you reevaluate your priorities.

I once knew a girl who was obsessed with getting an expensive engagement ring. I know, this story isn’t about Valentine’s Day, but it’s in keeping with my point about material items. I told her that I thought it would be cute and romantic if a would-be fiancé of mine spontaneously bought a cheap plastic ring from a gumball machine and proposed to me with it. She thought I was out of my mind and just couldn’t understand where I was coming from. She was a lost cause.

Then there was this other girl. She was dating a friend of mine and she and I became fairly close friends. In the few days leading up to Valentine’s Day, she kept saying that my friend had to get her something nice. Well, he spent at least $100 on her and then she dumped him the following week. I remained friends with her because I know that break-ups happen, but I was a bit pissed when she confided in me that she had been thinking about breaking up with him for several weeks. I’ll do the math for you: She had been considering a break-up while she was insisting he buy her something for V-Day. But her mom was a materialistic bitch herself so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Our friendship began to sour after her confession.

I’m sure there are some guys who are perfectly happy buying their girlfriends or wives lots of things, expensive or cheap. But I bet you more guys are guilted or roped into it. Or maybe sex is withheld until the woman gets what she wants. The comedian Patrice O’Neal put it best: “Women hold the pussy hostage.” Sure, some women want things bought for them year-round, but the demand and the stakes seem higher for V-Day.

I’m not necessarily against the day itself. I have a lovely memory of being in the third grade and getting a V-Day card from a boy I had a crush on. Granted, we all had to give everyone in our class a card, but I noticed that mine was larger than everyone else’s. Needless to say, I thought maybe I was special. I think the sweetest thing that happened to me on V-Day was a couple years ago when my ex-owner “D” e-mailed me to simply say: “Happy Valentine’s Day, Slut.” The subject read: “Just because.” It was simple, sweet, free, and completely unexpected or asked for. I was touched.

More people need to back off the materialism of the day, and give and accept simple gestures like the one D gave me. I think the day would be more enjoyable. And they should do these things more often than once a year. If you do, maybe you’ll find that it isn’t necessary to have one specific day to celebrate your love. If you already see it this way, then good for you. If you’re a guy who is dating or married to a materialistic woman (or even vice versa) who demands that you buy them many things, and you’re not happy, maybe it’s time you figure out exactly why you’re with this person. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find being with them isn’t worth the literal price you pay.

Oh, and single ladies? Why don’t you treat yourself to something nice, expensive or cheap/free this Valentine’s Day and just enjoy being alive?

I wish society would stop touting marriage as the ultimate commitment. I don’t find anything special or particularly noteworthy of any couple that marries. And I’m definitely not impressed by people who get married. They’re no different than an unmarried committed couple. I’m not going to afford them any extra respect. And yet that’s seems to be an unwritten rule: If a couple is married you treat them differently. Why? What makes married couples so nifty? They stood up before friends and family and swore love until death do they part and exchanged rings? Whoop-de-fucking-do. Oh, wait, that’s right—they’re afforded certain privileges, such as tax benefits and the chance to share insurance. They’re also financially securing any children they have or will have. But you know what? Unmarried couples can do the same. But the government makes it a bit harder on single people, as do insurance companies. It’s all to ensure that people follow the traditional route and get married. Well, I say fuck that.

If it’s not about the insurance or the other financial benefits, then why get married? In case you didn’t know, divorce is expensive and—if things go sour between the couple—can be messy and difficult. It’s easier if you’re an unmarried couple, except when you get into common law situations. Married couples are just as likely to break up as any another couple. Why make it harder on yourself? The cost and potential messiness of divorce is sometimes what keeps an unhappy married couple together. Marriage is really just a risky business deal.

When I mention this to married folk, I tend to get the whole, “We made a commitment of our hearts not just our money!” Really? That can’t be accomplished without marriage? But if the first thing I mention is how you can have a committed, loving relationship without being married, I get the whole financial benefits spiel. Either way you approach it, a lot of married couples are determined to fiercely defend their marriage. Which I can understand, to a certain point. In their minds, these people have made the “ultimate commitment” to their partner, and whether or not they admit it, they see the sanctity of their marriage as something that should never be questioned.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t go around bashing people for being married and not every couple thinks they’re special for having tied the knot. But a lot of them do and it’s absurd. The government certainly thinks married couples are better than unmarried ones. Of course, I don’t think the government should have anything to do with marriage. You shouldn’t get special tax benefits because you’re married. Or if you have kids, for that matter. If I had my druthers, marriage would be abolished.

While I think the typical arguments against gays getting married are bullshit, I don’t support gay marriage. But then I don’t support marriage period. I don’t understand the urge to get married. I understand wanting to spend your life with someone, but that’s where it ends. And if I ever reach a point in a relationship where I seriously consider marriage, I hope a friend or loved one is there to slap some sense into me.

If I knew a friend was getting married, I’d strongly encourage them to have a pre-nup done. Protect your belongings and money, people. You can say you love and trust your partner all you want, but people and their hearts can change and abysmal endings do happen to couples who were initially trusting and loving. People decry pre-nups as unromantic or a sign of commitment issues. I call it covering your ass should the unexpected happen and you’re left with nothing but your name. And if you take your spouse’s last name, even that is a costly hassle to have undone should divorce occur. I know some of you married folks are thinking, “But that’ll never happen to us! We love each other so much and would never hurt the other. We have the best relationship that’s ever existed!” Then you’ve got to stop and wonder, how many divorcees thought the exact same things when they got married?

I’m sure I’m pissing off a few married couples with this post, but I can’t say I really care. I don’t have a problem with you making a financial commitment to each other and your spawn no matter how ill conceived I think that decision is. Good on you if you don’t think your relationship is any better than an unmarried couples’. But personal feelings aside, society still thinks the ultimate commitment of head and heart (and wallet) is marriage. If one half of a couple wants to get married and the other doesn’t, the resisting one is labeled a commitment-phobe and gets lambasted for being afraid of commitment. They are treated like there is something wrong with them. People are pressured into getting married which is such a great way to start a marriage, don’t ya think? But the ones who do the pressuring just laugh it off as cold feet. Sure, some people are simply just afraid of marriage but really do want to take the plunge. But some are given no option, and if they leave the relationship, they get branded with the commitment-phobe label from then on.

So can we please, as a society, get the fuck over marriage and stop putting it on a pedestal? If you’re a would-be married person and you know me personally, please don’t get pissy when I’m unimpressed when you tell me you’re engaged or if I decline attending your wedding. And for the love of fuck don’t expect me to think your relationship with your spouse is special. I doubt I’ll even congratulate you. And that is awkward, the expected expression of congratulations. I’ve said it automatically in the past because it’s been ingrained into our minds that an impending marriage is to be congratulated. Anymore I simply say, “OK,” much to the chagrin of, well, everyone. But, you know, I just have commitment issues.

Today I’m going to talk to you about penis size. Yes, I know, it’s been done to death. But I read a post on a woman’s blog (I forget where) that had me all up in arms. This person wrote a scathing piece about how much she hated big penises. Yes, seriously. The comments from her readers were on par with her feelings. It was a what-the-fuck moment for me. I know that people seem to go from one extreme to another. Example: Now that we’re becoming more fat-positive toward women it’s become trendy to hate on skinny women. It seems that once an oppressed group becomes respected it’s de rigueur to oppress their once oppressors. Women who hated when men made jokes at their expense delight in repaying the favor now. Men with small dicks were once (and are still in some instances) made fun of but now it’s more fashionable to malign big dicks. Yay for hypocrisy!

I know, not every person hates on big dicks. But the aforementioned blogger is not alone in her hate. Granted there are well endowed guys who think they’re awesome for their sizable tool, and a lot of them don’t know how to use it and cause pain rather than pleasure for their partners. Those guys are douchebags. But there are some men who are shy or even ashamed of their above average anatomy. No, no, it’s true! I once had an online partner who is a card carrying member of the Big Dick Brigade. He once recounted a tale from when he was a young man. He had gone into a men’s public restroom and unzipped at a urinal. A dude next to him got a look at his enlarged appendage and made the comment that it looked like my partner could kill somebody with it. As one who was already a bit self-conscious about his size, my partner subsequently never used an urinal again.

That story ends well as he eventually went on to gain more confidence in his size and his ability to provide his partners with pleasure. The fact that he still remembers that painful episode proved that it still affected him in some way. I gained appreciation for large dicks as a result of my relationship with him. I suppose here is where I assure you readers that I have no preference for dick size. It’s true; I enjoy large toys and since I’ve never been penetrated by a human penis some might hold my lack of experience against me. A friend who had confessed to me that she’d had a relationship with one guy based solely on his big dick assured me that I just couldn’t understand when I balked at her standard for a partner.

A long, long time ago, I spent a night and most of the morning online with a guy I’d met in a chat room. He told me at one point that he had a rather large penis, twelve inches to be exact. I would’ve called bullshit but he seemed ashamed of this fact and informed me that he would not show me for fear of scaring me away. He confessed that he’d lost a lot of potential lovers as a result of his size. We spent that night flirting and chatting and it was toward the end of our talk that he decided to reveal his penis. We’d already had our cams on and I steeled myself for the possibility that he was telling the truth. From underneath his desk he produced his penis and I had to freeze my face and not allow any disbelief or fear to play across it. I was determined to not react like others have in the past, for what he revealed was truly a sight to behold. It looked like it was indeed twelve inches long and it was also as big around as my fist. I was gobsmacked! He was blushing and looked fearful of my reaction.

I assured him that I wasn’t afraid, but I really was. He put it away soon after and we resumed talking. I don’t think I continued talking to him after that night. I was too intimidated by his penis and that bothered me. I’m not proud of myself for how I handled the situation, but I just panicked. He began stalking me online, hunting me down in chat rooms trying to get my attention. I’m guessing I’m the only one who didn’t flee at the precise moment he revealed himself and that’s why he continued to seek me out. Either that or he was a creepy fucker who would’ve stalked me regardless. I’ll never know and I don’t care to know. In retrospect, I wasn’t much better than the other women who had bolted. What can I say? I was young, in my early 20s.

Although I can’t be 100% sure that the penis he showed me was indeed real, his face didn’t betray any trickery. I truly believe it was really him. I still feel a bit bad about how I behaved and I know it would’ve gone differently had it happened recently. Assuming that the dick and his stories were true, I hope he’s finally found someone who accepts him as he is. I wonder how the female blogger I referred to earlier would have reacted to his penis? If she believed it was real, I imagine she would’ve reacted badly, worse than I did.

It’s fine to have preferences. The only time it irks me is when people belittle those who do not fall under their preference. Admittedly, I’m a bit biased when it comes to men being the subject of belittlement. I believe men are getting the short end of the stick (pun not intended) in a lot of areas, and where we wouldn’t accept it if it was directed at women, we’re cool with it directed at men. And that pisses me off to no end. It’s also explains some of my misogyny. But that’s another post.

For those of you leery of or just not fond of big dicks, think twice before you say something that paints you as an asshole. You never know how the person attached to the penis feels about his size.

The list of the things that I hate about my body is a long one. I have never once, in my entire life, been happy or accepting of my size or the flaws of my body. You’ll rarely see my legs in my Half-Naked Thursday contributions because, in addition to their size, I have numerous visible veins on my legs. Some are spider veins, and some are just random veins seemingly throw about to decorate my legs. When my legs have appeared in a picture, the veins were not all that visible. I prefer it that way. My large hips and butt make buying pants a frustrating and depressing endeavor. My belly is not as large as I’ve seen on most women my size, but it’s big enough to make me self-conscious. My breasts swing low and heavy when not encased in a bra.

My face is another part of my body that I do not like. I have struggled with acne for all of my adult life and most of my teenage years. I’ve tried just about every possible over-the-counter wash and medication. I’ve even used Proactiv and I’m currently using TriClear. The latter has done the most for me, especially in terms of reducing the horrible redness I used to have. I still get acne, though, and plenty of it. I’ve got visible old acne scars all over my face and it seems a new pimple or two pops up every day. Makeup is not a solution for me as I do not like the stuff. It is also too expensive and I do not wish to take the time to apply it. I figure my face will never be completely clear and I’m stuck with the face I have. I’m sort of accepting of it never changing but I still hate it.

Like all fat kids, I got a lot of grief for my size. I loathed P.E. I would often conveniently forget to bring my gym clothes and my punishment was to go to the library and write an essay on whatever subject my teacher required. Being a lover of reading and writing, I didn’t find the punishment all that punishing. The only time I enjoyed P.E. was during my freshman year of high school. They gymnasium had an upper section that was a weight room. I discovered I loved lifting weights. I’d feel strong and capable when I worked the machines. Once, a friend who was big like me and I thought we’d see how much weight we could lift with our legs. We added enough weight to bring the total to 200 pounds and we each did two sets of ten reps. I couldn’t walk the next day and stayed home from school. It didn’t dampen my love of weightlifting, though.

Naturally, the grief I suffered at the hands of my peers negatively impacted by body image. I don’t think fashion magazines bothered me, but then I don’t think I read any when I was young. And unlike what some people claim, I never compared myself to my Barbie dolls and I sure as hell never wanted to look like them. If your kid wants to lose weight and alter their body to look like a doll, the kid’s got some issues. But I digress. While the taunts and insults hurt me when I was younger, there were bigger worries in my life. Also, I developed a thick skin and that has served me well. I even crack jokes about my weight. An offline friend is big like me and we rag on each other all the time about being fat. But we also share the struggles. We understand that a sense of humor is a must if you’re ever going to survive.

My friend has tried weight-loss pills and I always give her shit about it every time she mentions trying something new. The only way you can lose weight is to eat better and get off your fat ass, barring the weight being a result of a medical condition or a medicine. I don’t do diets or pills. Even when I was young I knew they were a bad, stupid idea. I don’t buy into the idea of a fat gene. I’d bet money that most people are overweight because they eat too much and don’t exercise enough or the right way.

There was a period in my life, between 15 and 16, where I ate healthier and worked out every day (with only a few exceptions) at my house. I lost weight back then but the flood of 1993 took our house and everything we owned. Unable to workout like I once did and living off of takeout and vending machine food as a result of living in hotels and motels, I gained back the lost weight and have added much more during the years since. That year was the last time I exercised regularly. I’m now thirty-two and I have many aches and pains (possibly arthritis) that make exercising difficult, never mind motivation. I do get some exercise but nowhere near the amount I should.

Nowadays, I really don’t give a shit what people think about how I look when I’m out and about. I mean, I’m still self-conscious about how I look naked. You won’t see me joining a nudist community anytime soon. I worry when I send someone a naked picture of myself or I post one on the blog. I don’t care what anonymous assholes have to say, or people that I don’t know, but I can’t help but fret when someone I know requests a picture. But the worry lessens with every positive comment I get. My anti-anxiety pills help with this, too. I’ve almost completely adopted the attitude of: This is my body. Love it or hate it. And if you hate it, fuck you and move on.

With regards to my face, I’ve found that people care more about someone who smiles and actually engages in conversation than any blemishes. Hell, I forget about my pimple(s) of the day when I’m talking with others. I tease them, crack jokes, and actually listen to what they have to say instead of dying on the inside in embarrassment of how I look. I’m not the shy girl I once was. My confidence in social situations has increased and people really respond to it. I think some people think I’m younger than I am because of my acne, as though only teenagers get it. I’m sure some women would find that to be a silver lining, but I’ve never aspired to look younger than I am. I’m not even afraid of gray hair. In fact, I look forward to it!

What I’ve realized, is that although all of the shit I endured as a kid hurt badly, I can’t let the past rule my present and future. I have to move forward and either accept how I look or find the motivation to change what I don’t like about myself. I’ve definitely made strides and there isn’t any reason why I shouldn’t be able to continue. Now I just need to find where I put my motivation.