Sweaty Summer

I’m so excited for the end of summer. I hate so much about it, despite living in a sub-tropical climate my entire life and therefore, becoming used to it. I don’t think I’m used to it so much as just defeated by it. Most of all, what I hate about summer is the sweating.

I am a sweater. I go outside and it starts to bead around my forehead, my lips, and my chin. It trickles down my face and leaves that uncomfortable wet feeling on my neck.

At every weight I’ve ever been, I have always sweated. I don’t believe it has anything to do with weight or size. And although I know it’s not “disgusting” or “gross”, and is actually totally normal (especially for a sub-tropical climate!), I still can’t get rid of the ingrained thoughts in my head thinking that I’m weird, or unladylike (ladies “perspire!”) or just plain ewwwww for sweating so much.

And even though I know sweating has nothing to do with my weight, I still feel like people look at me and think, “Well, of course she’s so sweaty. Look at her.” I feel like the sloppy, messy fat chick.

I know in my head that’s not true. I also know even if I was that chick, there’s nothing wrong with being a sloppy, messy fat chick. Or dude. Or non-identified gender. I know no one cares about that sweaty stranger over there, that no one is staring at me, I have no audience when I walk around, doing my daily business. I know this.

Try telling my emotions that though. Especially in a down period.

This is why I can’t wait for winter (even though, frankly, I STILL sweat in winter).

At least I won’t think I’m being stared at. At least I can wear more makeup without it coming off. At least I can wear tights. At least I won’t leave a wet patch on plastic seats.

Until summer rolls around again.