Insecurities are hungry parasites. They kick back and feast while you squirm and twist with pain and discomfort. I have a knack for noticing people’s insecurities as well as the ability to see mine without x-rays. I am insecure about my looks.

The world is a vapid one. It tells you what Body Mass Index, cup size, and facial features are worthwhile through the media. No matter what your girlfriends, gay friends, and high school students tell you, the world has a funny way of reiterating over and over that you are too fat and unattractive to be valued for your wit, intelligence, charm, humor, and kindness.

My tapeworm is doing the mambo through my spirit today. Today those extra 11 pounds and my National Geographic photo bone structure are draining my energy.

I went on a blind date lunch today. He was very sweet and loves film as much as I do. But there was no chemistry whatsoever, despite the fact that he was tall, lanky, and Asian. I came home and wondered what the future holds for me. My confessor can tell me to pray and wait, both of which I can do well. But my nature is restless and my tapeworm relentless. Never mind that I usually think I’m sorta cute in a quirky Peruvian way. All it takes is one blah date to make me wonder how different things would be if I was thinner. Had tamer hair. Had more classically beautiful features.

It’s bullshit, I know. When I had flat abs and long straight hair, I got attention but I often went for the biggest jerks. I was also an emotional mess. Now my spirituality has deepened. I feel I am a better person: stronger, more honest, more humble, more stable. My career is on the verge of heading into a new direction. I have a healthy relationship with my family. I’m even hanging out with my extended family more. I have the greatest friends a person could have. Why should how I look matter?

Until I eradicate my tapeworm, itwill grow back and reestablish its presence in my system. But how do I successfully purge it?