I am not sure how you found my humble blog, but I am glad that you did. This is my first ever blog and I am sure that it will show through in the amateur nature of my posts, however, I feel that my sanity may be in danger if I do not somehow express my thoughts. By blogging, it is my hope that others might find my writing and tell me that I am not losing my mind because at the moment several of my friends, at least those whom I have shared a particular secret desire with, are now questioning my mental stability. It has become somewhat of an “in-joke” and hence I incorporated that as part of the blog name.
The other part of the blog name points towards my secret desire, though I guess putting it out here on the internet means it is a lot less of a secret now. The thought of even more people knowing it is making my stomach twist into knots and I know the moment I put it down into words and publish this, there will be no going back. So deep breath for me, here it is: I want to be a doll. Yes, a doll, and not in the figurative sense. I am aware of how crazy this sounds as I can see it in the reaction of some of the friends I have told and maybe I am crazy but I cannot help it, these thoughts simply will not leave my head.
I know many readers might want to tell me “it is just a phase”, but I am no teenager. In fact, I am a woman in my thirties. If I were a teenager this whole situation would bother me a whole lot less because I am sure it would only last until the next thing caught my attention. But more than 6 months later this desire to become a doll remains firmly fixed in my thoughts. Perhaps it is an early midlife crisis?
Many women aspire to be the perfect, flawlessly beautiful, magazine cover worthy woman, but this has never been me, I was always the Tom Boy. I do not wear makeup very often, I do the minimum of body hair control, I have maybe 3 pairs of shoes and I can be most often found wearing jeans and t-shirt. I am sure there might be a dress or skirt lurking between my clothing somewhere but I will opt to wear pants. This makes the whole desire to be a doll so much more confusing and out of character for me.
I used to participate in physical sports, but due to a knee injury was forced to stop all high impact activities. This in combination with medications and a degrading diet, with plenty of stress eating led to me ballooning to the biggest size I have ever been in my life. I never had high self-esteem or a great body image to start with and the little I did have went down the drain when I took a good hard look in the mirror. I never really considered myself pretty, but at the very least I used to be in better health when I was younger.
It wasn’t soon after this depressing realization that I fell ill. I don’t think I have every felt that sick and by all rights, I should have been admitted to the hospital. I was unable to eat anything, my body would simply reject it a few minutes later. Staying hydrated was a huge battle as well as even plain water would sometimes have me throwing up. I was in pain and felt terribly weak. There was a point where I felt that dying would have been a kinder mercy than remaining in that state. Despite the medical tests run, no underlying cause aside from severe stress was cited. I don’t ever want to be that sick again.
My general practitioner explained it to me, the large amount of stress that I was under at work had caused my immune system to be suppressed. This allowed germs that would have normally not had any effect, the opportunity to run rampant in my weakened system. This forced me to be bed ridden for the better part of two weeks while trying to recover. During this time I cursed my body for being so weak and wished that I were stronger, or even better, completely immune to illness.
It was soon after this that I was in a mall, attending to the obligatory shopping for household items. What occurred in my mind that day is something that I could not have predicted. As I walked past a store window, something in the caught my eye. Pausing, I found myself staring straight at a mannequin donned in a gorgeous flowing evening gown. Sure it was the dress that initially caught my attention, but I soon found myself staring far more intensely at the mannequin. The dress was something I could never wear, for no matter how beautiful the dress itself, it would look ridiculous on me, that is to say, if they even had it in a size that would fit me.
I found myself in envy of the mannequin. Fashioned in the image of ‘ideal’ female form, she would look amazing no matter what clothing were placed upon her. There would never be an issue of big enough size or if it would be flattering. I found myself feeling weak, my body still not fully recovered as I stood there for a prolonged period so I leaned heavily on the trolley. My gaze still on this mannequin, I realized that she would never face this as she is immune to diseases – these awful weaknesses of the flesh. With smooth, blemish- and hair-free skin, no worries of gaining weight, perfect features that would never wrinkle or age. I found myself progressing beyond simple envy. I found myself wanting to be her, wanting to be a mannequin. Where my only job in life would be to look beautiful and to be admired by passersby.
I came to my senses eventually and left the mall in somewhat of a haze. I had put the thoughts down to simple stress and illness induced fancies and suspected that they would fade like the daydream they were. Yet to my surprise they did not. In fact, quite the opposite occurred as I found them growing in frequency and also evolving. I caught myself looking at pictures of mannequins and then dolls at an almost obsessive level. My desire to be one of these beautiful creations increasing on a daily basis until I had to admit to myself that these thoughts were not going to simply go away.
Where do I go from here? Well, I not really sure if I am honest. Maybe I should simply indulge in my desire and aim to become as doll-like as possible. Perhaps that shall quiet the obsession, or perhaps it will make it worse. I guess there is no way of knowing unless I actually walk down that path. Maybe trying out a few small things to start couldn’t hurt right?