December 14, 2003
Elephant Woman
How I hate this body. I had to have wanted it at some point before being born or I wouldn't be here. I hate it now. From almost the beginning it has been a source of pain, humiliation, fear, torture, disgust, ridicule and disappointment. I have never gotten used to this skin. Never belonged. I feel that I'm just renting it -- subletting maybe. By the end of most days I wish the real owner would just move back in and kick me out into the space time continuum. Floating would be nice. Just floating and thinking. Thinking and floating. Yeah. I could do that.
This body is awkward and never keeps up with where my head is at. It is too big and strong to be a woman's body and too big and weak to be man's body. However, my physical strength is the only thing I've ever liked about it. But the size, the size. I feel grotesque. I don't belong in 21st Century civilization. I belong behind a plow in Montana a hundred and fifty years ago. Or, maybe birthing early spring lambs in the Highlands of Scotland several hundred years ago. Something other than this teeny weeny woman life.
To compensate for feeling like the Elephant Man when I'm in public I stalk about like an entire chapter of the Hell's Angels is wrapped up in my skin. I guess it's just a continuation of the game face I began to develop in adolescence. Then, the cheerleaders barked as I walked by. Now, people just steer the hell clear as I walk by. If they feel the need to bark, they keep it to themselves.
The only comfort I've ever had is to go to that other place to a body that my mind has created. The body that fits my mind. That body is under my mind's control. Strangely though, that body isn't beautiful. That body is thin, granted, but painfully so. That body is strong, stronger than the one I have now. That body is tall, like the one I have now. That body is horribly scarred, like my mind, but unbowed. Now that I describe it, that body isn't very different than the one I have now but somehow it works better with my brain, my soul. I don't know why. Lately I've thought that one day I might just go to that other place and not come back. If the real owner of my body doesn't come back, I could just sublet my sublet.
Posted by swift at 3:25 AM
November 29, 2003
Becoming a Hepburn
Went to pick up my sister's three boys at the airport this a.m. I was in my usual boot-cut, t-shirt, clogs, no make-up and just the basics of daily hygiene. As I was rushing from the parking lot to the baggage claim I caught site of an older woman. She seemed to be floating along the people mover walkway in her own little globe of light. She was tall with her graying hair swept up from her slender long neck. Everything about her was in place and simply elegant. Just like Audrey Hepburn.
On the drive home, amidst trying to keep the 6 year old from spontaneously combusting, I thought about my attempted metamorphosis of style/self. When I was much younger I wanted to be like Audrey Hepburn. Thin (always the thin thing), delicate, long necked and always genteelly dressed. Oh, and I wanted the streak in my hair that she had in Breakfast at Tiffany's. The streak that only showed when she wore her hair up. I was tall. I could be thin, couldn't I? Couldn't I?
By my thirties I had given up on Audrey and decided maybe I could do Katharine Hepburn. She was more my speed. Much stronger, more forceful, lower maintenance and she hated to wear dresses. There was still that thin thing though. I could still try for thin. I could!
Today, after seeing that woman I realized I've given up my Hepburn dreams. In fact my style has deteriorated since high school. At least then I wore make up. I am what I am. I like my jeans. I like my t-shirts. I like my clogs. I figure if men look good without make-up then I do too. Sorry guys. The only way I'm going to be like a Hepburn is if Katharine has a third cousin named Bubba up in Montana somewhere. Me and Bubba Hepburn. Yup. We be just alike.
Posted by swift at 9:09 AM