Who's Afraid of the Big Red Balloons?
The fear of red balloons…..WTF?? I don’t even watch that mess (the mess being the wildly popular YouTube dating show, “Pop The Balloon or Find Love”), with the exception of the clips that float across my feed from time to time, but when they do, for some reason, I find myself stuck, watching.
Pop, pop, pop…you’re not, you’re not, you’re not…I don’t like, I don’t like, I don’t like….watching this parade of people (who I assume to be at least mostly decent human beings) being picked through and picked apart a milli-second after stepping into people’s purview….it landed on me like bricks. And all of a sudden, I became aware of a fear I didn’t realize I was carrying. A fear of not being perfect. And not in the sense of “I can’t make a mistake….” I make plenty of those! But in the sense of “what balloons are silently being popped with regard to me every day and I just don’t know it?”
I’ve spent a lot of time on social media this year, and when I watch my content or even listen back to episodes of my podcast, I find myself smiling and thinking, “I like this girl!” Like, if I wasn’t me and I was watching and listening, I’d like me. Which is a great way to feel! But that’s me…with me, inside me. Is that a shared sentiment? I was lightweight disgusted that at my big age I even cared, but I had to be honest with myself that it was a thought that’d spent more time around then I’d prefer.
By this time in my life, my body has kept the score of a surgery or two, a childhood skin condition, and a gang of food experiences I wouldn’t trade for anything. And in an Ozempic world, I’m making a career pivot into food media as a fat, dark-skinned woman openly enjoying food.
I’m personally ok with all of that. But those damn balloons, though. Do I need to wait to be a little more perfect before I move into areas of my life (like a return to dating after almost 2 years of self-exile)? And what does it look like to be pushing yourself into the light as a highly imperfect person? Inside and out??
It looks like this. It looks like me. Working internally to not GAF. I like me. And in that, I give myself permission to change, improve, or do nothing….and imma still like me. Balloons be damned, real or imagined.
Now pop on that.