Author: pinkapplejuice

I have felt a change occurring inside of my mind. Maybe a transformation

After many years of pain I then came on a time of suffering so unforgiving, it appeared my body would not make it out alive. But finally, I feel an awakening is upon me. In some ways, I believe my brain is renewing itself.
The putrid smell of physical rottenness dissipated. The illness and ongoing pain have not left me by any means, yet over this past year I have felt a change occurring inside of my mind. Maybe a transformation.
I did not realize how large a gap I had put between myself and my body these past years. I suppose the traumas experienced under medical care contributed to my drifting. My complete and sudden loss of physical independence surely didn’t help. However, there was no crueler attacker than my own body. To endure this unending physical pain and other debilitating maladies, I must have cut so many ties between me and my lump of person. To live under a physical betrayal so strong you realize no sense of personal willpower can guide the outcome- was an enormous blow. The only way to survive it was to drift beyond my physical self.

~Free My Self~
After the damage to my brain.
After disengaging from my great betrayer: my body.
After the pain went from unspeakable to so immeasurable,
I could no longer speak.
After there were doctors who were unafraid
To use uninvited hands on my body in its weakened state.
After family members had to dress and clean my flesh.
Yes, “my self” liberated from “my body.”
It had to, you see?

This recent awakening began with feeling present again. And new creative thoughts and senses followed. More than my only thoughts, “just breathe, drink, eat.” After years of survival alone, something new surfaced, like a tiny green sprout pushing its way through heavy concrete.

For the past few years, eating has been an uncomfortable chore. Although I have little appetite, I notice the smell of foods with a new curiosity. And my tastes have changed. I favor different foods and savor scents, flavors and textures I never enjoyed before. I linger over my meals appreciating the aroma– even if my body isn’t hungry.

All of my life I have been a sort of “Tom Boy.” Collecting bugs and rocks as a child, preferring to play outside with boys, spending far less time thinking of my appearance than most girls and women it has seemed. The only lotions or perfumes I own have been gifts. But coming into this renewal of myself, I have become acutely aware of my skin. For so long I didn’t have any connection to my flesh-I have even detested it in some ways. The betrayal, the dying body I could feel slipping away from this world. But it fought! It held onto life! And now, I dab a scented lotion onto my living body in appreciation, and in celebration. I inhale the mild fragrance all day knowing I am the bearer of this pleasant lingering smell.

When did my eyes become attracted to jewel tones like fuchsia and purple? I long to shop for clothes and home decor some day. What!? This is unlike me altogether. Then, as I practice my handwriting, it appears much more feminine than before (my scribble used to be a family joke). Reuniting with my body has brought about a womanly change in me. A curious femininity I don’t want to ignore. And I do feel different. Aware of new things. So much has occurred; I don’t think I can go ever back to being that person I used to be. I may as well transform into someone new.

My brain is making connections and is attempting to make friends with my flesh once again. Obviously, there are some new connections, as well. It is challenging to make friends with a body that constantly bites back, but some friendships are difficult yet still rewarding, right? I’m learning a lot about Neuroplasticity and how much the brain renews itself. I hope in time I will be making even more connections to myself; whomever that self is becoming.

*********

a Body of Hope
https://abodyofhope.wordpress.com/
Stories of survivors. Stories of hope.

Posted on by pinkapplejuice 2

Loving my Image

I met the amazing Lynn Ruth after her show at the Edinburgh Fringe earlier this year. She is an absolute gem, and proof that it does not matter what age you are or what you’ve been through, you can still get up and achieve your dreams! She is an inspiration and we are very honoured to share her story with you. 

“There is nothing more rare, nor more beautiful,
Than a woman being unapologetically herself;
Comfortable in her perfect imperfection.”
Steve Maraboli Continue reading →

Posted on by pinkapplejuice 4

Want a beach body?

I love this quote that has circled my newsfeed and the internet over the past couple of months.

tumblr_mpo76qO0X11qzzk3fo1_500 

(I googled this so not sure who to give credit to for the picture but it’s no mine!)

I came across this article on xojane and in the height of summer wanted to share it with you all because the photos and messages underneath are spot on.

Real Beach Bodies

Don’t let anyone or anything put you off wearing what the fuck you want this summer! If you have a body, then you have a beach body so get out there and soak up that vitamin D

Posted on by pinkapplejuice 4

I am a trauma survivor

**TW: child abuse, sexual abuse/rape, self harm, suicide, mental health issues -depression, anxiety, violence, sex**

My relationship with my body is just that – a relationship. It’s a negotiation between what I can do and what my body can do. Sometimes my body is like my best friend, and it looks out for me and protects me. At other times, it feels more like my body and me are an old married couple that bicker and throw tantrums and sulk at each other for not being good enough. I am a trauma survivor. I dealt with pretty bad emotional abuse for most of my childhood and adolescence. Even after managing to escape the people who inflicted that abuse on me, I perpetuated these abusive behaviours in my behaviour and my interactions with people. I am living with the consequences of this trauma now, and part of where I carry these memories is in my body.

I have depression, which comes and goes but often brings fatigue with it. Fatigue is the hardest to deal with of all my problems. It makes walking from my bedroom to my kitchen look impossible. It means that I can’t carry a light bag because my arms and back end up actually painful. It means I might want to go out and see my friends, but I’m worried that I won’t be able to walk all the way there and all the way back. Fatigue means my muscles often hurt and simple tasks like walking can be painful. I am lucky enough that I have enough money now that if the worst comes to the worst, I can get a taxi home from the bus station – but it wasn’t always like that, and I’ve learnt through necessity that my body can do things it is 100% sure it can’t do, if there’s no other option.

I have anxiety, most of which is a direct result of emotional abuse destroying my confidence, and I feel that in my body as well. Overwhelming anxiety starts by stealing all the feeling from my legs, so that they’re numb and shaky and heavy. My tummy starts going round and round like the alarm light on a police car. Low level anxiety, which is with me most of the time, can manifest itself by blotting out my bodily functions. I won’t get hungry or need to go to the bathroom if i’m in a situation that is potentially stressful (like staying at a new friend’s home) – this is my body protecting me from the anxiety these activities can trigger. I might not even notice that I’m panicking, until I’ve realised that I haven’t eaten anything all day and still don’t feel hungry.

Incidentally, my fatigue is actually pretty good for my anxiety because sometimes I just have to sit by the side of the road for half an hour – and necessity makes it easier not to care that people are staring at me. If I’m too exhausted to have many emotions, reason kicks in and reminds me that it really doesn’t matter what random people on the street think about me.

Depression and anxiety are the mental consequences of my experiences. There are physical consequence as well. My abusers taught me that nothing I had was really mine, including my body. While I was living with them, there was nowhere that couldn’t be violated without warning. No privacy and no safety, even within my own body.

This came out into my relationships with other people as well as in how I dealt with and felt about myself. I started having sex when I was 14, and looking back I can recognise almost all my adolescent sexual experiences as non-consensual and abusive. Now, I’m trying to work through all of the sexual abuse I’ve dealt with and exploring ways to actually want and enjoy having sex. Being present during sex is a challenge because I learnt to have sex by dissociating and zoning out. My body automatically tries to shut that whole area down because I’ve learn that it’s wrong and that it hurts and that the best way to survive it is just to shut it out and let it happen. But I don’t want to feel that way anymore, and I’m making efforts towards allowing my body to feel sexual and for that to be a positive thing. Trying to actually be in my body during sex means that I’m more likely to have anxiety and find it difficult not to panic, but I’ll take that because it means I’m making progress. Allowing myself to experience sexual attraction is also hard because that’s one of the things my body decides it’s not worth experiencing – but my brain is pretty sure that it is, now that I’m only sleeping with people who only want fully-consensual, mutually enjoyable sex.

My body is intrinsically wrapped up in all of my trauma issues; it is also a key part of my healing. The worst of my abuse was over by the time I was about 14, and I started recovering by forcefully making a claim over myself and the environment around me. I wallpapered my bedroom with pictures cut out of metal and rock magazines. The entire room was black and ugly but it was finally a space that was mine. I dressed my body in corsets and skinny jeans and eyeliner – and when I got abuse about looking ridiculous I felt proud inside because I knew I looked shit hot – I’d chosen this outfit with care! The claim I staked over my body was somewhat violent – partly because the clothes I wore and the music I listened to got me attacked by strangers on more than one occasion, but also because my tendency to self-harm (present since I was a child) became a regular and defined habit. I don’t think self-harm is healthy, but I know that it was positive for me because it was the first time I’d really been able to stake a claim over my own body. Because my abusers at this point were also people who loved and cared about me, I was obligated to keep my scars hidden from them – and they became my first secret, the first thing that was really and truly mine. My body also demonstrated its remarkable capacity for healing by swallowing the scars time and time again – keeping my secret with me.

I moved out of that house as soon as I possibly could. Living away from there for the first time was an eyeopener – until recently, I didn’t even recognise a lot of what happened to me as abuse because it was presented as so normal. My mental health issues are my body reacting to being safe. I am no longer in a crisis situation, and my body is beginning to let some of that in and deal with it. That’s why I’m considerably less able to function on a day-to-day basis than I was when I was a teenager. I’m forgetting some of my coping mechanisms because I no longer need them every day. I used to be superb at hiding my emotions and thoughts (I could have a panic attack without anybody around me noticing) and now I can’t do that – but I’m working to see this as a positive thing because it means I’m surrounded by people who are going to be ok if I have a panic attack. Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m surrounded by people who are going to everything they can to help me if I have a panic attack..

I am still learning that all of the things I learnt as fact when I was growing up are not fact. It’s beginning to sink in, after four years away from home, that I can do whatever I want with my body and my life. I have piercings and tattoos now, and some of my tattoos are ridiculous and anaesthetic and my family Do Not approve and I’m yet to explain them to anyone without getting a sort of disbelieving sneer in response – and my reaction is to shove two fingers up at them and remind them that nobody gets a say but me! Now I can put write a note to myself on my mirror, and know that nobody is going to come in and look at it without my permission. I can leave my diary lying on the floor of my bedroom. Hell, I can leave my diary lying on the floor of my living room because nobody would even dream of opening it! I can walk out of my room with fresh self-harm marks, and the only reaction I will get is people who care about me and want me to explain to them how I want them to help me. I can lie on my bed and kiss someone, and not be required or expected or obligated to have sex with them, and even though I still have difficulty feeling that that is true I know on an intellectual level that it is. I’m just waiting for my body to catch up.

My depression in high school made me want to not live because I couldn’t envision anything remotely worth living for. I expected to get married and have children because that was what I’d been taught inevitable happened, and I would probably have a job – but none of this held any particular emotional or motivational appeal for me. I didn’t have any dreams or hopes because I couldn’t envision anything giving me a positive life experience. I went through phases where I didn’t particularly want to die, but I sure as hell didn’t want to stay alive and I’d fall asleep at night praying I just wouldn’t wake up. But now, I’ve worked out that there are things I want to do – and I mean want with a burning passion that occasionally keeps me awake at night because I’m so excited about doing them. Now, I want to live so badly that even when I’m going through a bad depressed period and beyond experiencing emotion at all, I can remember that those feelings and wants exist and feel sure that I just need to hold on and work through the depression and when I come out the other side, all of the good things and good people in my life will still be there waiting for me.

annonymous 

Posted on by pinkapplejuice 1

It was as if my body, from the skin in, had been awakened.

Elle on bodybuilding

I ended up being a woman bodybuilder by accident: my husband (a runner) and I walked by a gym in Brooklyn, looked in, were curious, and went in. This was in the 1980s, when women had just begun going to gyms The manager offered me a year membership for $100. How could I resist?

Then, because he was bored at the time of day I went, he trained me. He’d won the Mr. USA contest at some point and he knew what he was doing. You can still find photos of him on the web: Joe Spooner.

The first thing that happened was that I felt parts of my body I’d never experienced before. For instance, the muscles between my ribs got sore. Who knew there were muscles there? It was as if my body, from the skin in, had been awakened.
But the coolest thing was that I woke up to my internal senses. You know, besides the senses that are turned outward, we have sense that are turned in, like balance, sense of time, direction, and temperature. Even the feeling of the difference between simple-pain and injury-pain seems like an internal sense. Do you know the feeling you have when your body is working perfectly, like everything is easy and maybe you’re weightless? You might feel it running or working out, but you might feel it dancing or just walking to the subway. I think that’s an internal sense, too.

The next result, besides fitness, was that I became conscious of another level of body experience and enjoyment. Really, when you think of it, sex is an internal body enjoyment. Appearance may help get you there, but it has nothing to do with what happens next.

Now I do yoga in a class and crossfit with my husband. Both make you feel your whole body, like bodybuilding.

Posted on by pinkapplejuice 0

Mirena IUS coil experience

Mirena IUS coil experience.

I have just gotten the Mirena IUS coil fitted, and since I hadn’t heard of it before two friends mentioned that they had it, I thought I’d use my experience with it to make others aware of it as a contraceptive option.

I used to take the contraceptive pill everyday whilst I was in a long term relationship but found that it made me hungry all the time, and if I didn’t eat *a lot* almost constantly, I would feel sick and get terrible acid reflux. It got to the point that it would often wake me in the night, and when I awoke in the morning I would almost always feel sick.
Which, as you can imagine, was not great.
Aside from the physical side effects, emotionally I was a mess. I suffer from depression anyway, but the pill made it much worse.

As soon as I stopped taking the pill I noticed these side effects begin to wear off, and over the last 9 months I feel like my body and mind are my own again. I can’t put into words how good that feels.

I was talking to a couple of friends about sex, as you do, and they mentioned that they both had the
Mirena coil, and that they loved it. The main reason being that it generally means your periods are very light, if in fact you get them at all over the five years that you have the device implanted.

No periods for five years sounded just fine to me.

So I went to go get it fitted yesterday, here’s a run down of what happened.

I went to the Chalmers clinic, had to give in a wee form to say that I’d watched a short film explaining what was going to happen (I’d actually watched several on YouTube as well as what was offered on the Chalmers website, and did some reading as well). As well as this, I’d also had to say that I’d eaten and taken some painkillers an hour before.
There are a few other things that I can’t remember, but basically just accepting that you’ve been given all the information you need before you have the device implanted.

The doctor goes through all these points with you before the procedure anyway.

After handing in my form, came the waiting.

Oh the waiting.

I took a friend with me, one of the ladies who told me about the coil, it was good to have someone to chat to as I was quite nervous, and she was there to make sure I got home ok. Both my friends suffered a lot of pain on their relatively short journeys home, (about 15 and 30 minutes respectively) so I wanted to make sure I had someone to look after me.

I went in and had a chat with the doctor giving my recent sexual history, why I had chosen to try the coil and if I had ever been tested for STI’s and if there was any chance I was pregnant.

Whilst you’re getting the coil fitted they can also take a swab for chlamydia and gonorrhoea, and do a smear test if you’re not up to date. So handy! Three birds, one stone! Let’s face it, no one likes being naked from the waist down being prodded with a cotton wool bud, might as well get it all over and done with in one go!

So I find these things quite embarrassing, but the female doctor and nurse were both lovely and put me totally at ease, I had to just remember that they both do this every day, and my fanny is nothing special to them.

So the doctor went over what was gonna happen, and I went to go get my pants and shoes off and lie down in the stirrups.

One the best pieces of advice that my eldest sister ever gave me is this; “Always wear a skirt for these things.”
You’re welcome.

I hoiked my skirt up and laid down. They raised the bed up so that I was at eye level with the doctor, and started the procedure.

First the doctor has to physically feel which way your womb lies, you feel her touching inside, and also your stomach. Then they have to open you up a wee bit with that funny looking clamp thing that I seem to remember someone making quack like a duck in an episode of ‘Friends’…

Then you get three jags with a local anaesthetic to numb the opening to your cervix. The first one was like a sore pinch, the second one less so, and the third I didn’t feel at all as it had already started to take effect.

Next the doctor has to grab the opening to the cervix and pull it to open it, I felt a pressure like a full period cramp, but it wasn’t too sore. The doctor then inserts a measuring device to tell how deep your cervix is, so that she knows how to place the coil. This was quite sore, it made me wince and draw in breath, it was just like a bad cramp, it’s over quickly and the nurse was right there making sure I kept breathing.

The nurse and doctor were both great at making small talk and taking my mind off of what was happening. We talked about the World Cup and how I glad I am that it’s over.

Finally the Mirena is inserted, it felt just the same as when the measure was inserted, just a bad cramp. Again, it was over quickly, and probably only lasted for 5-10 seconds.
The Mirena has two tiny wires that extend from the base of the T shaped coil and descend from the opening of your cervix into your vagina. These you check to make sure the device is still in place on a regular basis. When the device is inserted, these are cut and you’ll see the excess when you get up.
It’s weird.

The clamp was removed from inside me, and I bled a little from the anaesthetic jags, the doctor cleaned that up and gave me a second to get up slowly and get dressed.
I felt absolutely fine.
And at this point was super grateful I could just drop my skirt back down instead of fannying around with trousers!

Another piece of advice I would give is to take a sanitary pad with you, or else you’ll get get given one from the clinic, which is practical, but feels like a brick in your pants.

The nurse left and I had another wee chat with the doctor to make sure I was ok. I felt absolutely fine, not even a little sore.
I went out and met my friend, and we walked back to my flat in the beautiful pouring rain.
Edinburgh. Standard.

It’s about a ten minute walk to my flat, and I felt a little weird, I could feel that there was a foreign object inside me, but it didn’t hurt. It was a little sore towards the end of the walk, but I still felt fine.

It really didn’t begin to hurt for at least an hour or two. Then I had bad periods like cramps for the rest of the day, and some light spotting.
Over the course of the day I lay on my bed with my friend, took 6 nurofen and two paracetamol and utilised a hot water bottle.

I slept fine, woke up after a good long sleep, and feel totally normal today.

I’ll keep you updated as time goes on, and I hope that this is helpful.

Feel free to ask me anything!

–Kate – 25

Posted on by pinkapplejuice 6

A bar love poem (a note to drinkers)

With a new job interview on monday and the hope of getting out of bar work, I wrote a little poem about how i feel some of the men treat female bartenders..obviously not all are like this but I would say at least half of the men that come into the bars I have worked in in the last 5 years have been.

Your suit hangs looser than the magnum condoms your girlfriend buys
You’re drinking in my bar while she’s out talking to other guys
You tell me your sob story and ask what I would do
But if I were yours I’d probably be cheating too

You don’t even have work to do,
You could be at home trying to work things through
Maybe wine and dine, dinner for two
But you chat me up hoping I’ll go home with you

I’m more than half your age
And I don’t care about your hourly wage
Your only worth to me is the drinks you buy
And the amex card that you wave

My hourly wage is enough
I don’t need you to “take care of me” and “buy me stuff”
I’m not surprised your girls not there when you wake up

I serve men like you on a daily basis
Looking at girls with want on their faces
Grabbing arses and starring at tits
Who get offended when told “back off you cant have this”

I suggest approaching from a different angle
Take your drink and just be thankful
I don’t want to be in your twisted love triangle.

By Mollie – 21

Posted on by pinkapplejuice 1

Invisible Monster

This is a powerful yet touching account of what it is like to live with a chronic disease ulcerative colitis, that I felt too important not to share. What a brave woman!

Posted on by pinkapplejuice 0

I’m starting to value myself for something other than my looks, and I’m actually kinda proud

To me, my personality consists of geekiness; which involves a serious penchant for comics, superheroes, films, books and video games. It also consists of my love of language, my inquisitiveness, my thirst for knowledge, my appreciation of art, photography, comedy, and theatre. My love of clothes and style, and my love of people and all their weird, delightful complexities.
And a whole bunch else which I’ll probably remember after I’ve typed this out.

Very little of what I think about when I think about ‘me’ has to do with my physical appearance.
Although, I love to do my hair, my make up, and choose outfits that look good to me.

Something that I noticed recently is that although when I think of ‘me’, most of what I think of relates to my characteristics and interests as apposed to my looks, it’s primarily my appearance that I think of when I think negatively about myself.

And that pisses me off.

Because I’ve been trained to be that way.

And I’m not a fan.

Advertising, television, films; so much tells me as a woman only to care about what I look like, not *who* I really am.

And quite frankly, fuck that.

Most mass media focuses on women in relation to their looks, their clothes,
and their sexuality. If you are not beautiful in the very narrow definition perpetuated by them, then you are not valued. I reject this notion wholeheartedly.

I used to be so shy, and still am. But I’m getting better at being confident. A lot of my shyness came from the fact that I didn’t feel worthy of people’s attention because I wasn’t beautiful enough.

But I’m getting better at ignoring that, and now, even though I still get scared about doing stuff because I’m shy, I just do it anyway. I pretend I’m confident, and not bothered by it. I’m slowly fooling myself into being more confident, and it’s a really good feeling.

I’m starting to value myself for something other than my looks, and I’m actually kinda proud.

In closing, if I can offer you one piece of advise, it would be to stop watching adverts, and buying the like of ‘heat’ magazine.
They are designed to make you hate yourself. And to fool you into thinking beauty can be achieved with the latest foundation or shampoo, when really your beauty comes from within you, and isn’t something that can be bought or sold.

Kate – 25

Posted on by pinkapplejuice 0

Check in :)

I am one half of the coordinators for Project Naked, and I am overwhelmed and honoured from the response we have had with the project. I wanted to write a few words as to what we are about and my thoughts on the project. At first it was just for myself but I have decided to share it.

We have created this platform to empower women to think and talk about their bodies. We are surrounded by things/the media that tell us we are not good enough, not slim enough, not sleek enough, that our pores are too big or our skin is too blotchy, or our cellulite is disgusting. Never directly though. They are sly, they say you are beautiful IF.

We say you are what you are, celebrate it, appreciate it, love it.

Not that it’s easy.

I struggle all the time, even having done this project for over two years and having read so many inspirational stories from women who have overcome so much, lived so well, and succeed. And the truth is we all have those stories within, but finding them and recognising them is where the struggle can lie. For me anyways. I’m never quite 100% happy with my body, and I’m not always sure why. I do not always appreciate all that it does for me and can do. But I am also young and (maybe too) easily influenced by the negative things around, society’s niggles saying how we ‘should’ look. I think I need more life experience before I truly learn to ignore them. Doing this project has been a great help though.

What this project has given me is something real. I find it absolutely fascinating reading about other women’s lives and how they feel about their body, about nudity, about their lives they live and how the way we feel about our bodies does affect our overall lives. This is real life, this hasn’t been edited and photoshoped to make it something that can be bought/sold. It is real women living real lives in their real bodies, some of which have gone through so much and some of which have gone through ordinary processes in extraordinary ways.

I read silly gossip trashy magazines (still, although not often) and it makes me sad. I see adverts and feel manipulated. These stories and submissions we have been sent in make me happy, even when they are heart breaking, because – not only I’m happy we’ve received a submission! – I’m reading something that has not been fluffed up, polished or faked. The stories we receive are powerful, and they are sent from the “normal” “everyday” women and that is something special. I think it is special because they have taken the time to write something and submit it, and I think it is special because all the stories will affect the readers in different ways and it is amazing that this project and the submissions can be helping others without the writer even realising.

We get a lot of women saying to us “but I don’t know what to write!!” or “I don’t know how to put how I’m feeling into words” or “my story is boring, I don’t feel I have anything to say”. We think every woman has a story to tell, and we understand it isn’t easy putting feelings into words (hell that is something I struggle with a lot!) but even if it triggers someone to just think about it, think about their body and all the amazing things it can do that’s good enough for me! For example, I don’t like my thighs, never have. They don’t wobble the right way, I have stretch marks going in all directions and some annoying rash thing that keeps appearing even after lots of cream BUT they are my thighs and without them I couldn’t walk and run (not that I do that a lot, ha!) and best of all dance like a loon which is something I love to do. Shifting my focus from the negative to the positive is a process that has taken time and I don’t get it right all the time but it’s this project that has helped me work on it and I do believe everyone is capable of it.

We don’t want to be telling people how to think though, how they should start the process or what they need to do to feel better. That is why the majority of the posts are just the submissions that we get sent in, or find (and why we have long gaps between posts because sometimes we are waiting a long while for submissions!). We want those submissions to lead the blog and it be the main body of the content.

Doing this project has opened my eyes. There is no “normal” and perfection can lie everywhere, often within the imperfections! I like to read through the posts and stories and I would urge you to do the same because there is such a variety and they will truly open your eyes to how amazing, adaptable, versatile and unique our bodies are!

If you would like to share your story with us we would love to hear from you. Please email us on projectnaked@gmail.com 🙂

Posted on by pinkapplejuice 2