Body Image

March 19
The weather is getting colder, but it is still very much summer. I appreciate the days when I wake up and the sun is shining. There is a giant hole in the ozone directly over Sydney/Australia and although Aussies don’t really take pride in that fact, they do acknowledge it and are very conscious of global warming. In fact, if there’s one thing they love to talk about, it’s the weather. A simple comment like “Hot today” can evolve into an hour long discussion on the drought, global warming, Australian agriculture, and back to the unseasonably warm weather. If it should rain, it is an occurrence that can- and will- be talked about for weeks. Freak thunderstorms creating flash floods are a favorite topic, especially among locals, and the news always includes some water conservation tip, as well as a special government report on the current water situation (which apparently changes daily, if not hourly.)

My day today was spent largely in Uni. I had a tutorial/lecture that lasted three hours, then a two hour anatomy lab. I love anatomy, mostly because it’s so amazing. I look at the human body and think, “How could this have happened by chance?” It’s a good reminder that there’s something bigger than I am out there.

Last night I went on a date. Here’s the interesting thing about Aussie guys, and perhaps Aussie social acceptance as well. Back home, I am not considered to be particularly attractive; at least I have never felt particularly attractive or received a lot of male attention. In America, women are made to feel like they have to fit into a certain body type category, that skinny and almost painfully thin is the “right” way to look. I never realized how much this image has affected my self-image, as well as my perception of others until I arrived in Australia. Here, they are more accepting of varying body types. It is not only the “hot” girls who receive attention. Women are not objectified in the same way. Basically, here I am beautiful. I can finally really believe that about myself.

And receiving attention from guys is a little weird. I’m not entirely sure what to do with it. I mean, I’m enjoying, that’s for sure, but I’m never quite sure how it fits into who I am. I have always been the girl who gets put into “friends category.” Who is nice enough, but not dateable, and perhaps that’s my own fault. But the fact remains, I’ve gained a bit of confidence. I like being looked at by guys. I’m just not sure how to meld the half of me who avoided relationships, men, dating, and romance together with the girl who likes to drink, dance, flirt, and (possibly) date.

So last night’s date with Random #2 was really good. He’s an incredibly sweet guy, entirely too charming for his own good. I really enjoyed myself. I think I finally figured out that I can be myself, and if he/she/it doesn’t like me, it’s really not the end of the world. I can choose who I want my friends to be. I can choose who I hang out with. I don’t have to try to please everyone all the time. And, for God’s sake, I do NOT always have to be a social butterfly, happy, flitting, whatever. I can sit in my room and hate the world if I freaking want to! But that might be another story.

So the conflict remains between two Randoms. Random #1 is a 26 yr. old financial analyst who is incredibly sweet and respectful. Random #2 is about my age, incredibly attractive and a 2nd year carpenter. Everything in me says stick with the Financial analyst, but… I’m not going to lie. Random #2 and I have way more chemistry than Random #1 and I. (Someone remind me to tell the story of being left in the city by my mates and Random #1 taking care of me.) I think Random #1 knows there might not be a lot there, which is a bit disappointing for both of us. I don’t know. I’m probably just reading too much into this, as I always do!

Well, it’s a Tuesday night and Chaz’s birthday, so, naturally, I have to go help her celebrate. In Australia, you can drink when you are 18, so it’s a huge party night; twenty-one is the other big party. I think the celebrating of the 21st birthday is evidence that American culture is pervasive. I could talk for hours on that, so I’d best just not get started.

Love, Larissa