Flippers

• preface •

P R E F A C E

How many of you embrace yourselves?

And I'm not talking about accepting yourself at its mere face value. But rather, really embrace yourself― beneath all the obstinate skin and sinew, beneath all the blood than runs thicker than the very core of your essence. Embrace the fat collected between your thighs, your sexuality, your fears, your desires. How many of you have been reigned by the demonic clutches of the insecure succubus residing inside you? A large percentage, that would be my educated guess. And that includes me too.

To be honest, I am fucking tired.

Tired of categorizing my wardrobe into the darkest corners of my closet― the sleeveless, the little black dresses, crop tops. Tired of rewriting the same old diet plans over and over again. Seriously, this new year was perhaps the fourth time I re-did the entire previous year's diet plan. I am exhausted of discontinuing them halfway. Tired of knowing that I have potential, so much potential within me and the only bloody thing that is currently stopping me from achieving the best version of myself, is my negative body image: the love handles, the stretchmarks, the stubby fingers.

It's a funny little thing. Acceptance, that is. There are so many hidden and hypocritical nuances that are nestled in between; a clear example would be the underlying dysfunctional belief that I just stated above. One that believes that self acceptance and true potential resides within the achievements, no ― confinements, of physical beauty. [most of which, I will do my best to explain throughout the whole of 'Flippers' via the protagonist's perspective], that it makes the act extremely strenuous and hellish. It takes pain, patience, perseverance; and that is what makes it so bloody hard. Throughout the whole of this book, this will be the primary focus. As much as I would love to admit that this story is primarily for the readers, it is not. I am hoping that, by the time I finish this [approximately by the end of the year], I will be able to achieve what I had envisioned four years ago.

The plan is to match the updating schedule of 'Flippers' and the protagonist's routine to mine. I am counting on it to distract me from my bottomless pit of an appetite. During the time where I will simultaneously work on achieving the ideal goal through the week; and if interested, update you lovelies about it [perhaps, something like a journal]. The workouts. The journey. The setbacks. The triggers. The underlying dysfunctional cognition. Hopefully, having clicked on the 'Publish' button will motivate me enough to keep me on track. Fingers crossed.

[Also, as much as I like to pretend that it is not synchronous to my personality at times, it bloody is. I have always wanted to write the extremely clichéd 'badboy-meets-the-good-girl' story. Excusez-moi. It is my primary guilty pleasure.]

Nervous. Excited. Far from Lucid.

Let's fucking do this.