Forest Through the Trees

Can’t update my blog or respond to some of the comments from work, but by the miracle of modern technology, I can still add a new post! Righteoussss. Or Fuckin’ A. Or whatever floats your boat. Or mine.

No matter how badly I would like a tattoo, it won’t happen. I’m all for protecting the sanctity sanity of my marriage. But if I COULD…yeah, I would still do a half sleeve on my upper arm without regard for who will or won’t see it because as visible as it might be on a “normal” person, it would remain as hidden on me as if I were to put it on my butt cheek. I was biologically blessed with the glandular dysfunction of a ‘roiding teen-age boy and have acne scarring on not just my upper arms, but back, chest and neck. I roll in the sexy, no? A tattoo would actually improve my self-confidence by hiding some of the scarring.

At work, I never wear sleeveless tops, even though currently it would be allowed. But if I was to ever find myself gainfully employed in my area of expertise, going sleeveless would most likely be a no-no. Business casual/dress for me, thank you. That means the only time my tattoo would see the sun would be when I’m intentionally trying to get some sun, as I don’t even wear sleeveless tops without something layered; or when someone other than my family is around; or without a really good tan, which seems to minimize the nasty appearance of the scarring.

In the weeks before I lost my job, Sparring Partner was encouraging me to seek out a skin peel or dermabrasion because I am so very self conscious about my skin. It’s one thing to have it on your face. A little make-up and voila’, I am presentable enough. But formal attire and summer clothing styles and swim suits are all so adorable, but sadly I avoid them at all costs. For those of you who are astute in recalling my photos from the fundraiser where I was baring quite a bit of skin and you don’t see anything amiss, all I can say is that I’m so thankful I found 3 cans of discontinued spray-on stockings through ebay. Yes, really. That and dim lighting are life savers in that regard. Shopping for my wedding dress was very bittersweet because in my head I had this image of myself wearing a sleeveless, or even strapless gown, but couldn’t. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find a wedding gown that has sleeves that don’t look like legs of mutton attached to your earlobes? This was in 1997 when Google was just a funny word and the familiar noise of the computer getting connected with the internet included “beeboobeebeeboopsssscccrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewoppleworpscreeeeeee!!!”.

Now you know just one more of my many, many insecurities. If we ever are to meet in person, I won’t hold it against you if your eyes wander from my face. Pretend you’re checking out my boobs, mmkay?

11 thoughts on “Forest Through the Trees”

  1. Same here but PCOS is the bastard that keeps me in some form of cystic acne on my upper arms, shoulders and back at all times. It’s a little better when I get some tan, but then that can cause skin cancer so I’m screwed either way.

  2. I have a large scar on my back from a surgery. People I have just met will ask me what happened to your back. Luckily the only time people can see it is if I wear speghetti strapped tank tops or swim suits. So I kind of avoid those.

    Hopefully at some point you can afford to get dermabrassion. Or the tattoo… I’ll go with you. I want one but am horribly chicken. 🙂

  3. I hope that at some point you can get the dermabraison or something to help you with those scars. I think that most of us have something that we really are self-conscious about. Mine (before this post pregnancy weight that I just can’t get rid of) was my teeth. I had horribly “buck” teeth that I finally got taken care of in my 30’s. The best 20K I ever spent.

  4. Someone at work pointed out a “rash” I had on the side of my face the other day. I told him, no, it wasn’t a rash, it was pimples. He shut up pretty quickly. 🙂

    And in regards to boobs? Smaller is SO MUCH BETTER than bigger . I went from a 38[million]DDD to a 36C within a month’s time. My surgeon was a GOD – removed 4lbs in total and left enough stuff in there that I could actually BF my kid. To this day I want to kiss him.

    I think you’d be REALLY bad ass with a tattoo. But you’re still bad ass without one.


  5. I scar horribly easily – insect bite – scar, scratch – scar etc etc ad nauseam so I relate. If my bikini days weren’t over anyway my large appendectomy scar certainly makes the over now.

  6. I have a facial scar and some chicken pox scars, but nothing too bad. I’m sorry to hear about your scarring. That’s so hard. Should I feel worse, though, for you as a teenager with all that acne?

    1. Ah, if it was only from teenage years…it’s from my teen years, my twenties, my thirties and even now. My pituitary gland hates me. I’ll be the geriatric patient in the nursing home asking for benzyl peroxide.

  7. I guess that’s one good thing about aging…all that wrinkling, sagging, and discoloration will cover up all the other crap we’ve been worrying about our whole lives!

    My husband wants me to get a tummy tuck…and new boobs. I told him to get some, and he said he couldn’t because he’d spend all his time playing with them. 😉

    1. I would LOVE a tummy tuck!! My husband is under some kind of delusion that I can work it off. Pfft. It’ll need slicing and dicing to fix at this point. I am very happy with my boob job. So is my husband, natch. But I was happy that I didn’t go too big. I realized that when I was dealing with post-pregnancy and nursing boobs. Smaller is better.

  8. I had a horrrrible case of chicken pox as a kid. They were EVERYWHERE. In my throat, up my nose, behind my ears, all over my face. Now I have scars. One time, when I was babysitting my nieces, the lil one (Jessi) said that my blouse matched my face. I was all, “huh?” I looked down and realized I was wearing a blouse with swiss dot pattern. Jessi asked me why I had all those spots on my face. There is no makeup in the world that can cover them. I need something more along the line of body-putty.

    Oh!! I also have a scar that runs from the bridge of my nose down the entire length of my schnozz. Bicycle accident when I was 10-ish. My parents always said I could get dermabrasion or plastic surgery someday, but that day never came. So, WHEN we eventually meet, we can compare scars.

    1. The scar on you nose sounds like you could make up some awesome stories to go with it. And little Jessi….yep. I remember when I had a really nasty zit on my face and my son pointed up at it at the Target check out and said very loudly, “owie!” over and over again.

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