Backhanded compliments

So in mousing around today, I saw where someone (quite some time ago; during The Fandom Drama) had seen a pic of me and decided I look like Terry Jones.

I imagine this was intended as an insult. I don't take it as such, though. Though I'm not particularly attracted to Mr. Jones, nor would I describe him as particularly attractive, nonetheless, I think he's great, so I don't mind looking like him.

I'm probably one of the few women around who isn't automatically insulted at being told I look like a man. I KNOW I look like a man (a very short one, yes, but still...) That's part of why I look (and feel) ridiculous with any attempts to femme up. You can put a pink bow on a bulldog, but it's still a bulldog.

I'm built like a Tolkien dwarf, minus the beard. I'm very short, very broad and have strong features. I'm almost all ribcage (frame-wise, at least; I have fairly broad hips, too, but my big ass is mostly just... a big ass.)

The rest of the world has a problem with this. The rest of the world is, in fact, not exactly built for someone who is both short and wide (seriously: try finding pants in a size 30 petite. It ain't easy.) On occasion, when I'm feeling particularly crappy, I have a problem with it, too. Though honestly, the short part is almost as annoying as the fat part. Both things get in the way of being able to go through the world with a minimum of fuss and inconvenience and at least a reasonable amount of enjoyment.

But aside from the sheer annoyance of the practical matters of physics, I'm really not that horrified to look like I do. I agonize, almost daily, about how angry I am that other people are stupid and narrow-minded and thus hate me because of how I look. I definitely agonize at the billions of dollars spent every year trying to make all women look like the vacant bimbos they get to host entertainment "news" shows. But my anger isn't directed at myself. I do sometimes get annoyed when I tend too much to gluttony and sloth, because I do want to try to stay healthy, but beyond that, this is just who I am. I'm sort of a circus freak, albeit a relatively mainstream one.

I could've taken after my short-and-adorable mom, but I didn't. I took after my dad, who's a big, Neanderthalish linebacker sort. Only I somehow ended up with Mom's short genes (either that, or I actually do have some sort of dwarfism, which wouldn't surprise me, given some of my dwarfish features, like stubby fingers.)

I don't fit into the small range of cookie-cutter shapes deemed acceptable for women in my culture. I hate feeling like an outsider because of that. But I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and be 5'9" and 120. Hell, I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and be 5'5" and 220. And I'm certainly not, barring major cosmetic surgery, going to wake up tomorrow with a soft jawline, perky nose and perfect skin. I don't necessarily like being this weird, but it is what it is, and if nothing else, at least I'm not a clone. And in a way, perhaps being a bit of a physical freak has made me a better person, because it's pushed me to achieve success in ways that aren't at all dependent on what my ass looks like or how far off the ground it is. I guarantee that I'll have a far better life at 50 than someone who based her entire career and life around what she looked like at 20.

So if someone wants to tell me I look like a very successful, funny, smart, well-respected guy, then yaye. I'd much rather be mistaken for Terry Jones than Paris Hilton.