Something I think about everyday

Something occurred to me a few days ago. It was kind of epiphany moment as I was sitting in my office feeling bad because I hadn’t been able to work out the last couple of days because of numerous factors that are valid and also because I’m lazy.

(Actually, I regret that order of cheese fries, but whatever)

It struck me then that I’ve spent the last twenty-some years fixated on my weight and appearance. Like seriously. Not even exaggerating. I clearly remember the first time I felt like my thighs were too big. I was thirteen and I was playing softball. I was a catcher, so the straps on the leg gear created bulges. I can’t even tell you how many times I bought into those diet ads in the back of magazines and convinced my mom to order them for me. Look, this was before the Internet. I spent my entire high school concerned about my weight, and I wasn’t actually overweight. I wasn’t skinny either. I was in that in-between stage—the average stage. And I was consumed with diet tricks and being thinner. Well, consumed wasn’t the right word for it, because I never stuck to a diet. Ever. I like food. A lot.

(me to food)

So I worked out. A lot. Then during my first year of college ephreda hit the market and I gobbled that shit down like it was candy. I worked out twice a day, went to school, AND worked my part time job. I got skinny. Like so skinny that it was all people complimented me on. I’d finally made it… except then I got too skinny and a good friend of mine told me I looked like I was sick. That was also a positive affirmation, because come on, jellies! But then I was getting changed one day and was bending over. In the mirror I saw every single bump of my spine. Every one. When I straightened, I saw my hipbones. There was really no muscle tone. See, all I need was cardio and eat ephreda and swiss cheese. I have no idea why, but I was big on swiss cheese, cheerios, and chewable Sprees back then. I blame college. Being a psychology major, I recognized that I had tipped over the scale so to speak. I was entering eating disorder territory. Actually, to be honest, I probably had one. It’s hard to even admit that.

(cries!!!)

I stopped popping ephreda and working out twice a day. Hello, cheese fries get in my tummy. But those thoughts never stopped. College came and went, relationships began and ended, marriage happened, a great career started, and those thoughts are still there, every fucking day. Not one single day had gone by without me thinking I wish I was this, whatever this was. And that is insane. Holy crap, it’s unbelievable. Like if I was thinner than am I, like, going to write better or something?

But those thoughts get so tied up with every other aspect of your life, it infects like a virus. The thing is these concerns, these voices and worries don’t start at thirteen anymore for girls. They are starting younger and younger.

I ask myself why this has always been a thought, a worry, a concern in the back of my head, at least once a day and usually more than that. The easy answer would be to blame media and advertisement, but those things respond to what the people want—basic supply and demand. Sure, this could be a vicious cycle or a case of what came first, and while media and culture do have a huge impact, we have to acknowledge that each of us is a part of that culture. We helped create it in one way or another. We feed into those nagging voices in the back of small girl’s head or a grown woman’s mind every time, and by we, I’m talking about us women.

When it comes to self-image and self-worth and how we view ourselves, the words and opinions of other women, carry so much more weight. Our words regarding each other oftentimes cut so much deeper, because we should know better. Right? Most of us females share the same struggles, insecurities, and thoughts. We should be able to emphasize and sympathize with those quiet voices that says you shouldn’t wear this, do I have a roll when I do this, or you shouldn’t think that or only if you fit into this or so on and so forth.

Some of the worst posts I’ve come across on the Internet usually involves women commenting on other women’s appearance, anywhere from telling a woman she should cover up while telling a guy to show any number of body parts (hello, slut shaming and you’re welcome double standards) to openly discussing how a women has aged or if she’s gotten plastic surgery or if she’s too skinny or too fat (hello, body shaming). I think sometimes we comment so freely about celebrities because we don’t see them as human beings. They aren’t friends or family. They are these untouchable and unreachable people, but not only do we forget that these people are in fact human beings we’re so openly criticizing or laughing at, we also forget is that female friends and families are seeing these comments. You may think discussing a celebrities’ appearance is no big deal, but all of that feeds into this culture of nearly unattainable perfection. Those harmless comments about someone ruining their face or losing too much weight become a fuel for that noxious brain fire.

I mean, sweet baby Jesus in a tuxedo, recently Alicia Keys trended for like DAYS, ya’ll, DAYS, because she didn’t wear makeup. SHE DIDN’T WEAR MAKE UP. And do you think it was men all over those posts congratulating Alicia or telling her she really needed to cover up those circles because she looked haggard or that she was using BB cream so it didn’t count? LOL. Nope. The vast majority of commenters were women. Even a well-known ‘feminist’ website slammed Keys no make up choice, and I’m over like what in the holy fuck of all fuckdoms do we care this much about what another woman is doing with her face. Her. Face.

Body shaming is a thing that does occur. It happens sometimes by accident. It happens sometimes by purpose. It’s not a product of a P.C. culture. Just like slut shaming, rape culture, and double standards are all very real things. None of these things should really be made light of or dismissed, because they do very real damage to people. We criticize each other when people take steps to change the things people have deemed unattractive, rather it be through natural or artificial ways. It’s literally a no win situation for many. You lost weight? It must’ve been through surgery. Your changed those squinty eyes? Why did you ruin your face? You gained weight? You’re lazy. It goes on and on.

I think to myself that I don’t want to spend another couple of decades worrying about weight and appearance, but I know that’s not going to change, no matter if I’m a size 4 or size 20 or how good I get at contouring and hiding those crow lines. And I think about all the times I’d fed into those thoughts myself. That I still do.

And to those who are a hundred percent happy with themselves and have no negative thoughts, then kudos to you. I do not mean that sarcastically. I strive to be like that one day.  Truly. And to the people who don’t believe you when you say you’re that way?

I’m kind of a lost cause when it comes to this facet of my life. It’s always going to be in the back of my mind. I don’t mean that as a sad thing. Realizing that was kind of a relief in a way.  That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying. Mostly means the exact opposite.

But maybe it will be different for your daughters or their daughters. I guess that’s something to think about before we decide to comment on another person’s appearance. We may not be able to change those voices in us, but maybe we can stop those voices from forming in girls and in boys so they don’t spend decades struggling with never good enough, never whatever enough.

PS. I may be an author, but you’ll probably find typos and grammatical errors here, because I’m human and I have really good editors.

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