My Anaconda Don't

First off, happy one year Singleversary to me! I am celebrating how I’ve celebrated this whole year: not dating someone who treats me like shit. Yay go me! And now, on to regularly scheduled programming.

We judge people based on how they look. That’s a lot of what Tinder and really all online dating is predicated upon. You find this person physically desirable, so you want to get to know them in some way. This also happens in everyday life, at bars, restaurants, coffee shops, clubs, walking down the street. Based upon your own personal standards of what you find beautiful and attractive, you are drawn to people and repelled by others. Women are often unfairly forced into very narrow definitions of what society views as attractive. I could go on some very long, ranty, feminist tangents, but I’ll spare those for now. You may get a very long-winded post about feminism and online dating soon, though. (You will, don’t worry.)

For now, let’s just say I don’t particularly conform to the current societal standards of beauty. I am not blonde, nor thin, and I don’t have a big ass, which is particularly ‘in’ at the moment. I am okay with all of this. I’m a curvy, busty, unnaturally redheaded ball of sass and wit. I’ve been told I’m the come-to-life Jessica Rabbit, and I’m more than okay with that comparison. Again, however, even though I have the boobs (and then some) and hips and thighs, I also have a bit of a tummy, and my ass is flat. Always has been.  I’ve started doing squats to help, and they have, slightly. But by and large, I have a pancake butt. I attract people who are attracted to boobs because I have those in spades. Now everyone who knows me in real life knows this because it’s obvious. On the interwebs and on Tinder, however, not so much, because I don’t exactly take photos of my butt and put them on the internet. I’m not a Kardashian. To paraphrase Judge Judy, don’t pee on my leg and tell me I’m famous.

All of this does have a point, I promise. This man messaged me on Tinder. This is what happened.

Originally, I was going to tell him I lost my butt in an ‘assident,’ but I wasn’t sure he would understand. I’m sure there will be someone else to try it out on. At least we both found out quickly that we would not be a good match. Because… ick. If you lose all interest in me because I lack a big butt, well, you’re missing a hell of a lot more than just a booty, sir. Also I'm guessing he doesn't really have an anaconda. And even if he does, my own anaconda don't want none. I have a lot of latent feels about how we treat women in society, how we are more than just our bodies, the Venus Hottentot and rise of the booty as a sign of sexual fertility and femininity, etc, but this is a lighthearted blog about dating, so I shall spare you all. For now.