On the subject of faith, love, lust and violence...

Confessions of a Virgin Mistress

This blog is...

mARTurbation: art meant to please myself, as well as essays, articles, rants, raves and opinions on pop culture, sexuality, women, power, education, religion, music, films and products. No subject is taboo, no discussion forbidden.

Reading Guide:

Thoughts, Essays, Opinions and Articles have unique names and are stand-alone, even when related to previous entries. The dream chapters however, where I talk about my dreams, are titled “At The Dreams: “Insert Dream Title Here”, this is to differentiate conscious opinions and thoughts, from the subconscious movements that go on when I’m asleep (or somewhere in between). The reason I post my dreams is probably the same reason I post all other entries, to examine myself. I’m my own lab experiment. 


Tuesday, December 25, 2007 by Mistress Cavallaro

I address so many things all at once in my head at times, that I often wonder how I keep it all straight. For instance, there’s the subject of solitude. I don’t mean being alone, I mean being the only person in control, present and accountable for absolutely everything that happens in your life. It’s the kind of affirmation that often leads me to question God. Why, if I am taught that there is a divine plan, a guardian angel, a lord watching over me, am I forced to face the following scenario:

(It might even seem ridiculous at first glance but I assure you it led me here)

My mother once told me she’d gone to see a medium. The medium told her, I’d struggle all my life with food. It was odd, because I’d been born a very thin girl, and I showed no interest in food whatsoever, to the point that my parents were worrying. Because I’ve always had allergy problems my parents would see me sneezing all the time, bending myself forward with those fragile bones and practically break into a weeping frenzy of fear. 

They opted to feed me instead a sort of “hunger” medicine. Two bottles of the solution later, I was fat as a cow. Ever since, I’ve had trouble losing that weight. Even now, that I’m not “fat”, that I’ve attained an ideal weight for my size; society’s view of my body has forced me to keep questing for that perfect “thin” waist. I’ve had so many yo-yo diets and varying results they could make a documentary. Even at barely 124 pounds, I’ve had liposuction, later, breast reduction (because they made my torso look thicker) and tried every possible cream, pill, product, liquid-diet, fast and body transformation program on the market. 

They’ve all failed. I’ve failed. The help I’ve requested from faith, people and religion has failed. The sabotage has been constant: the moment I say I’m on a diet my mother offers me food, my father brings home cake, my friends bring take-out, somebody’s birthday party comes along... every single day. Even when I tell them to please help me help myself, they’ve made it more and more difficult. It’s almost as if they are trying to keep me in my current weight instead of helping me lose it. Which is ironic, since they’re also the people that point out my weight all the time. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not weight obsessed, I think I have a beautiful weight, unfortunately, my agents don’t think so. The industry I work for requires impossibly thin, beautiful women. No matter how hard I try, today, exactly twelve years after my last “Hunger” bottle, I still haven’t managed to go past 117 pounds any given time. 

I’ve even done karmic cleansing, I’ve tried everything, I’ve exercised, I’ve paid thousands of dollars for trainers, food programs, medication and cigarettes (because they said models smoked so much because it took away the “hunger”). I’ve quit smoking since then by the way. I’ve also stopped drinking for months (though I’ve gone back to drinking… fuck it); I’ve had long diets, short diets, and even tried my hand at eating disorders (So far: Bulimia, mild anorexia…) … Nothing.

Because I was originally such a small girl, my body was never built to be thick, it doesn’t look balanced that way, but I can’t ever lower my weight. I’ve cried in frustration, worked so hard at the gym I’d almost bleed from my fingers and feet; still, no amount of pain and suffering brought me the weight loss I wanted.

No solution has come up thus far.

I’ve asked God, I’ve asked the angels, and I’ve wondered if I should switch to Buddhism. I’ve done myself tarot readings; I’ve pondered selling my soul… at this point, why should I care? And because… no matter what… I see… no change… but I’m not referring to the programs now… I’m referring to my faith. Any hope I’ve ever had about having someone guiding or protecting me has come into question with this subject. Either somebody likes to torture me… or we are in fact, completely alone and at the exclusive mercy of our own actions. 

I know, at a mere glance, this doesn’t seem like a profound enough experience to merit such a conclusion… but that’s the kind of thinking I’ll only accept from those who’ve never had problems losing weight, despite miraculous claims to the contrary from other people. There are those of us, who have stuck to diets, have worked, have busted ourselves and still gotten nowhere. 

I am not in a bad weight. But I have to get thin, to work, to get attention, to be respected, to get lovers, to impress, to be instantly accepted…

What the flying fuck are we doing? Am I "meant" to stay this way, so as to bring attention to the subject. Is that my "destiny", is this my "divine plan". Or am I in control? In any way?  

If someone's watching over us… why are you letting women kill themselves? If we’re responsible for ourselves… then why am I unable to lose weight? ... and if I do manage to lose way someday... any day... where will this argument go... and what will it mean. 

Who answers these questions? Nobody? or myself?

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