Tag: Culture

Bad and Boujee

A314D27C-404F-4CF8-809C-78D074D8500B.jpegUrban dictionary defines boujee as.”High class, flossin’, ballin’, One who posesses swag. Always on fashion trends. Elite, rich.” Right now, I’m getting a $4 pedicure in Hanoi, Vietnam, and am bra-less, in a shirt I bought in Thailand for $5. I’m also rocking $12 sweat pants I got in Japan because I didn’t want to do the walk of shame in my booty shorts from the night before. Yet, I’m still feeling Bad and Boujee.

Whatever you’re feeling has very little to do with what’s happening outside of yourself. Certainly, getting a pedicure while sipping tea is a big contributing factor to me feeling badass and boujee af, but it ultimately it is how you interpret life internally that sets the tone for the way you feel. If a lad roasts me for my ballsy outfit, I have a few options. One option is to be a little bitch and change clothes. Or, I can think he’s just not as innovative, creative, confident, or badass as I am, and continue my bad and boujee feels.

Outside influences can so easily deter us from feeling our best. We’re accustomed to comparing ourselves to the limiting constructs that our society has inflicted on us. It’s all make believe, and we’ve done it to ourselves. As in, we believe something so much that it makes the reality we perceive. hence the word make believe. We make it believable.

I’ve been feeling somewhat insecure at times. I’m constantly surrounded by beautiful people that are nearly a decade younger than I am. I’ve compared myself to other girls and felt like if I searched “past their prime” into google images, my picture would be there. But I’m fucking fire. Inside and out I am perfectly imperfect and I love it. I’m beautiful. You’re beautiful. Beauty comes in every form, and it’s what we make ourselves believe that will determine if we feel bad and boujee or just strait up bad.

I’m not here preaching like I’m peachy all of the time and life always feels good. I get sad. Things irritate me. Earlier, I felt like rolling my eyes the moment anyone tried to talk to me because I was peopled out, and didn’t want to deal with humans. However, the opportunity for change always exists. I don’t know about you, but I’m choosing to consciously make my life a fairy tale, and it’s titled Bad and Boujee. Who’s with me?

 

How I Feel About My Body Image Since Traveling

C380A78D-9673-4DA8-9012-F97FFA8C5D20 A big part of traveling the world is experiencing the culture, and that includes the food. What happens when you consume an absurd amount of pad thai and befriend a bunch of bros who eat about six meals a day? You guessed it. Thighs that are thicker than the minds of those who don’t believe in global warming.   

Before traveling the world, I was a fitness instructor, I worked out seven days a week, and was vegan. Not the vegan that still eats vegan ice cream and french fries. The kind of vegan that looks at the package at a grocery store for 10 minutes to make sure they know all of the ingredients. So, as you can imagine, a lot changes both physically and mentally when your daily health and fitness routine goes from Kayla the fitness guru, to Honey Boo-Boo.

Having struggled with a sever eating disorder for years, it’s not hard to guess my initial reaction to my reflection as my body changed was not a positive one.

“It looks like I have a food baby the size of my ex boyfriends ego.” Was the kind of internal dialogue I would have when I had to get dressed in the morning.

Somehow, someway, things started to shift. I couldn’t even tell you why or how. I started to live more freely. I began to look at my curves as sexy. I was beyond grateful that I allowed myself to eat what I wanted, and experience the culture, without the excessive guilt or counting calories endless times a day like I used to.

Between the liberation of eating what I want without internally freaking out, and having people like me for me, it’s easy to see I used to give a fuck about all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons. I realize that if I was the twig I had wished I was, I’d want to look more like me now. You want what you can’t have. Even though society says one type of beauty trumps the rest, I beg to differ. Plenty of people prefer having something to hold on to, in which case, I have no shortage here.

My mother tells me “There’s a cover for every pot.” That I believe to be true. For every body type, there are plenty of others who’d admire the beauty of it. However, the most important thing to be able to do is cover your own pot. You can always trade lids when another comes along, but you don’t want to be left feeling cold because of the way you feel about who you are or how you look. I’m hoping that metaphor comes across as good as it did in my head.

Did I grieve today when I couldn’t fit into the pants I tried on in a store in Japan? Yes, but mainly because they were sexy af and I would have worn them so much. Gosh, I’m getting so salty just thinking about it. Let’s be real though, I do not have the physique of a typical Japanese woman, and that I’m okay with. Do I wish my body was different? Also yes. Though I appreciate what I have and how I am, I’d be lying if I said I was thrilled about all my extra fluff. Some is great, but I’d love to distribute the rest to my ass if I’m being honest.

If I was huffing and puffing like a chain smoker with asthma after walking down the block, that’s one thing. However, that’s not the case. Im living my best life, doing just fine. In fact, more than fine. Beautiful curves and all.