Apples and Grapes

I was sitting in the bathroom, feeling sorry for myself. My self esteem had taken a nosedive, which happens occasionally, and taken my mood right along with it.

I felt like I looked awful. In fact, in that moment, to myself, I did look awful. Terrible. I was all set to have a nice little pity party, when my inner counselor (the part of my brain that doesn't let me stay messed up for very long) started asking questions. Sometimes, when I do this to myself, I get annoyed. I don't want to answer questions, I just want to feel bad. Unfortunately, since this inner counselor is part of me, she comes with my brand of stubbornness. Which pits me against myself in a no-win situation. Since I felt bad and didn't really want to, I decided to play along.

Well, my inner counselor thought, why do I feel like I look terrible?

Because, the rest of me wailed.

That's not a good answer, my inner counselor reminded me. Why? There has to be a reason.

Because I don't look the way I should, came the answer.

Oh? And who decides how you "should" look? My inner counselor replied.

At that point, I snapped out of it. That question was like a bolt of lightning. Who, indeed? Because it obviously wasn't me. If it was up to me, then what would I have chosen to define as beauty? Myself, of course. Who wouldn't have jumped at the chance to make themselves considered the most beautiful?

Who decides what women "should" look like? Well, obviously models are considered the pinnacle of pretty. But they didn't choose that, did they? So models aren't the answer. They don't have any more control over that than I do. They would be just like me, if...if what?

Well, if they hadn't been chosen as being the most beautiful by people who want to make money.

The people who want to make money choose who they view as the most attractive people to advertise their products. Because they want to make money. And how does that make money? Well, for women, they're tapping into a desire to look like the model on the screen, and being told that if they buy this product, they'll look like that.

They don't spell it out, of course, because that would land them in hot water for perpetuating the low-self-esteem epidemic. But it's there. I've seen enough cosmetics commercials.

So, because models were made out to be the height of beauty, every American does what? Aspires to be that. Of course. Women take that to heart because they've been conditioned to try and look pretty. So they want to look the way models do. Men want that in their women, too. I'm speaking in broad terms, of course, these don't apply to everyone. But in general, I don't think it's going too far to say that it's pretty accurate.

But my point is this: models typically have one body type. Tall and thin.

Comparing me, for instance, to one is like comparing the prettiness of apples and grapes. Both are fruit, but they have different aspects that make them appealing. Maybe you like the color red, so you prefer apples. Maybe you like the appearance of a cluster of grapes, so you like them. But you can't compare them to each other properly.

You can compare an apple to another apple, sure. This one is shinier, the color is more even, it's not lopsided. But you can't use the same criteria for grapes. Some grapes are simply not shiny. Most bunches of grapes don't have even color across the whole bunch, and anyone that's seen a bunch of grapes can tell you it's extremely unlikely to be even.

The things that make models beautiful, and the things that make me beautiful, are different. The things that make you beautiful, and the things that make me beautiful are different, too.

What we're doing to ourselves, and to others, is expecting the grapes to look like apples. Because we're comparing two completely different things to each other, and deciding that one is prettier. But...you can't do that, can you? You can't say an apple is prettier than grapes, because they're not similar enough for you to tell.

Putting a model on a higher plane of attractiveness based on length of leg, color of eyes, shape of nose or mouth...that's just not fair, and it's inaccurate. It's like saying an apple is better because it's red, when other fruits simply can't be red. They can still be just as beautiful. But because they aren't red, they can't see it in themselves, and they're compared negatively to the apples.

The truth is, models are pretty. They have to be, to do their jobs.

But for the rest of us...comparing ourselves to them, comparing others to them...is like comparing apples and grapes. You could be the most gorgeous bunch of grapes in the world, and you'll never measure up to an apple. But that's because you're not an apple. Not because you aren't as pretty. Not because you're not beautiful enough. Because you're on a different level of beauty altogether, and that beauty plays by different rules. If you're going to define beauty by the color red, the shinyness of an apple skin, then the grapes will never be beautiful. But the same can be said for the other way around. If you define beauty by the color purple, by the versatility of a bunch of grapes, the way they can drape over the edge of a bowl - then an apple will never be beautiful, either.

So my stint in the bathroom told me a lot about how I see myself. Basically? Not an apple. Therefore, not pretty. But that wasn't right, was it? Continuing the fruit analogy, I'm the bunch of grapes, that was trying to be an apple. Impossible, right? I was telling myself I wasn't pretty, because I didn't match the prevailing idea of what was pretty. Which was tailored to - you guessed it - apples.

So who decided what a woman should look like?

...I did. I didn't think I had, but I did. I decided that a bunch of grapes wasn't pretty, because they didn't look like apples.

I think most women do that to themselves. It's really easy to do, when models are splashed across magazines and proclaimed beautiful by everyone. It narrows the view to apples. And the grapes, and the strawberries, and the blueberries, and oranges...well, they just aren't as pretty, right?

Wrong. Just because you aren't an apple doesn't make you less beautiful. It just means you don't fit the chosen stereotype, and shouldn't try. And no one else should try, either.

So stop comparing the apples and the grapes. Don't compare me to a model. They have their class, and they will always win. But I have mine, too. And they can never beat me at it. Don't compare yourself to a model. They have their class, and they'll always win. But you have yours, too. And when you compare an apple and grapes by the rules of what makes grapes pretty, who wins?

I'll let you in on a secret. *whispers* The grapes trounce the apples.