It is very rare that I have self confidence issues. I genuinely believe the hype about myself. I enjoy feeling superior and the similar sensations that sweep through an individual when they identify as Domme. There are moments though where my self confidence falters, moments where believing my hype is not quite enough. It is rare but such moments do occur. Every time it happens to me, the feelings are so alien, I have no clue how to deal with them.
My most recent difficulty lays in my body. I am a big woman. Happily so, I work out, I eat well and mostly organic. I live a fairly active lifestyle. I take care of my body. So being bigger than some is not really an issue for me. The issue came to me in the form of a picture. More specifically, a picture of my breasts and chest while I am wearing a bra.
The issue I have with it, the problem is the scar that runs from just below my collar bone past my xiphoid process, well what is left of my xiphoid process. I suppose it is not that apparent but to me, when I look at it all I see is this:
Sorry if that was a little too graphic.
So how does one remove themselves from the scars? From the sensation of feeling butchered and broken? I decided to post the first image anyway. To fight through my immediate impulse to delete the image. But I found myself nervous, scared, worried that the physical imperfection that seems so clearly evident to me would be poorly received. Remember these sorts of feelings are rather foreign to me. So what happened? I receive a message from one of my good girls telling me “I love that picture, and I love your scar.” Well, if another person can love it, should I then not embrace it? Should I continue to cover it up, returning over and over again to the cyclical sensations of trauma? Or do I admit it. I am not physically perfect.
She also states, “It is another beautiful part of you, your story and your strength!” It is beautiful, isn’t it? It is proof of my own survival. It is sexy in a way that makes me unique. Lesson learned! Imperfections on the surface do not make you less Dominant. They make you unique, an individual with a story, with tales of survival and triumph. No one really wants a cookie cutter Domme. They want a being who has something to share, experiences they learn and have adapted to. That is what makes perfection!
Remember, perfection is a road, not a destination.
Flaws are what makes us all who we are. Yes we all hate our flaws. Those as was stated are wasn’t makes you who you are. I would not worry too much about it, as you most likely don’t. Least I hope not.
I try to not worry about it. Most of the time I succeed, but we all have our lower moments. Thank you for your kind words!
Your welcome
This post had my heart racing, and tears running down my face. Not out of sadness, or pity, but out of pure LOVE and ADMIRATION. You have been through SO much, far more than anyone ever should have to had gone through, and you have remained sooo damn strong.
You are beautiful, every inch of you, inside and out. One of the most genuinely beautiful people that I know.
It takes balls to post this, and I am seriously feeling so proud of you right now. Your scars tell a story, show what you have been through, yet they do not define you at all. They are just a tiny little part of you, which the WHOLE package is damn wonderful!
You are making Me cry… in a good way! You are an amazing Woman Haylee. You helped Me find the balls as You put it to put this up!
Years ago, I read a comment on a forum about Alice Cooper, where someone said his voice was slightly off key or something. Someone else replied saying “Yes, thats what makes him so great, if his singing was spot on then he wouldn’t be Alice!”
The same principle applies on this….. being too “perfect” is bland, its the imperfections – the scars, experiences – that make people (You) perfect.
That is the kind of comment that stays with you ‘that’s what makes him so great’ (insert something about celery)
The doctor who did the work keeping You alive through that scar is just a lil bit great too 🙂
He certainly was. I was extremely lucky! My cardiologist is a resident. I was the first patient he diagnosed. His supervisor (attending? ) couldn’t figure it out.
Thank you for sharing your moving essay. Wishing you well. You are most fortunate to have amazing supporters!
Thank you Steve. I am a very lucky woman to have such great people around me.