Family tree

It is getting old.

I've been hearing this in the past few years about how women should embrace their body, think Dove commercial. How we should embrace our wrinkles, skin, body, smiles...lists go on. This sounds cool and empower me for a few months, but heck, when I hear this over and over, I start to get tired of it. Soon, it turns out to be annoying, well, at least somewhat.

I love myself...I love myself very very much, though, there is one BIG part of me that I struggle to love--my legs. You know legs are parts, well, big parts of my body that are pretty hard to ignore. I feel that if I put both of my legs alone on a scale, they would weigh more than third of my body weight--and I mean, really. I inherit my legs (their shape and size, especially) from a side of my family (though I'm a little reluctant to point a finger towards one way or another, lol.) My legs remind me that there is no way in hell I was adopted. I'm definitely a product of this family, and that an evidence shows.

It is so damn hard to find a perfect pair of pants that fit me properly with the width and the length, especially "the length." Thank to this "issue" I face everyday. I am reminded everyday to think about my family and how I am a big part of the cult.