Oh my god, look at her butt…

There are days where I feel like I could fucking out-walk Naomi Campbell and there are days where I feel like a GIGANTIC cow, literally rolling down the street because my legs have disappeared in my gigantic belly. I’ve had days where I will do everything to avoid seeing my reflection. I know as I’m writing this, how utterly ridiculous this shit sounds, but I feel like someone out there knows what I’m talking about. Your thighs/ass/stomach/whatever else are not looking like you think they should or could (Breast lift fund for my 45th is a thing now). We all know that all of us have varying degrees of insecurities about the way we look, facts of life. And for some, hating the way they look is 24-hour job. Society has done a great job of convincing us that we will never be perfect until we have abs of steel, big boobs, tiny waist and a big ass. So why not continue their sordid work for them. There are entire industries making billions off your low self-esteem, and ladies, business is fucking good.

You’ve seen those annoying Dove commercial, made to empower women. So am I to assume that before those were made, we were all just ready to slit our wrist because we weren’t pretty or skinny enough?!?! But now here comes our lord and savior Dove to tell us that it’s OK to be our ugly self. So much so, that it’s now the entire basis for all their commercial. Where the fuck were they when I was sixteen?!? I know that some of you may say that i’m reaching (I do that a lot) and maybe I am. But I do know, there is no amount of Dove soap (Ivory girl over here) will make love myself more because I’m already doing that. Now before you roll your eyes, here me out…

I’ve grown up with a mother who, I believe, has had an eating disorder for most of her life. She pretty much wanted me to be exactly like her, and I’m talking some single white female shit. But unlucky for me, I love eating and food which was not something acceptable in her eyes.When all  her “friendly”advice didn’t work, she tried more extreme measures like food restriction (notice I didn’t write dietary restriction…)  and humiliation to have me fall in line. In her mind, I would never be happy not weighing 120 lbs so she had to break me in order for me to understand I could never love myself looking this way. Well, she succeed and for many years, I hated the way I looked, took extreme and unhealthy measures and developed an eating disorder of my very own. Severely depressed and with no strength to do anything else, I pretty much tried to slowly kill myself. She noticed that I wasn’t healthy and pretty much pushed me to keep being unhealthy. That’s when I realized that she would never be happy with me or herself. She was sick  and that it wasn’t so much my weight that was the issue, but the fact she couldn’t completely crushed the little bit of love I still had for myself. I guess she didn’t have that love for herself..

Let’s not get it twisted, I struggle with body image just like the next girl, but what’s different this time is that I’m not telling it consume my entire life like it did before. I tell myself that I may not be happy with certain jiggly parts of my body but they’re mine and every limb is accounted for and somewhat healthy. My body has gotten me through so much (no birth, thank god!) and it’s carried and protected me. It’s climbed mountains for Christ’ sake so I have an intense admiration and love for my body.  We are meant to be different whether skinny or fat, so why must we tie our self worth into our physical appearance ?!?! After all, hating is a full-time job, are you willing to sacrifice all your time and thoughts to wishing for a smaller ass?

 

 

 

 

*Illustration by Brad Amorosino

 

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s