What is it with the ridiculous definition of beauty these
days? It seems like you can’t turn
around (or refresh your Facebook feed) without seeing a new
commercial/video/rant about beauty. I’m
all for playing ball like a girl, and I cringe when I see a supermodel with
bones protruding from various parts of her body.
Permission to be completely real? I could not care one teency little iota about
the Kardashians. There, I said it. Beauty should not be defined as something
that is universal. Just as each of us
are unique, so is our beauty. It is so
much less about the size of clothing we wear, and so much more about our state
of mind.
Beauty is not just limited to us women, either. I have seen plenty of beautiful men in my
life, and while some of them have been insanely attractive (to the point where
I lose the ability to speak), the most beautiful men in the world are the ones
who light up with pure joy when they see their kids after work, or lovingly
show affection to their wives…just because, or who make sure that their mothers
and grandmothers are appropriately fawned over.
That’s beautiful. Men who treat
women with respect because they are in awe of women (and maybe the slightest
bit terrified) are beautiful. Men who
are dads when they don’t have to be are beautiful.
There was a song on the radio today when I went to collect my children, and there was a lyric that really struck a chord with me (bonus points if you know the song):
“I see what beautiful is about
When I'm looking in
Not when I'm looking out”
And as I listened, I thought
“Huh…” I mean, wouldn’t it be so much
better if we could all take this mentality and run with it? Don’t get me wrong…I know there are people
who think like this. There are people
who think everyone has their own sense of beauty, but globally we have some
serious issues with body shaming. It
makes me glad I don’t have a daughter, and sad for all of those who do.
It doesn’t end there, with the
female population…my boys have their own issues with their appearances and
fitting in, but it’s not even close to the number of issues I remember having
as a teenager. I didn’t get it back
then, and it makes even less sense now.
Women have it in their heads that
being a single digit size is the ultimate goal.
Man, when I was in middle school, and I’d read books about the blessed
Sweet Valley High twins and their perfect size 6, 5’6” willowy frames, I was
jealous. Don’t even get me started on
the insane fashion sense of certain members of the Babysitters Club,
either. That Claudia Kishi…what a
fashion icon!
Here’s what I say: If you’re
happy and healthy, then go for it. Learn
to be confident and comfortable in your own skin. And if you aren’t, then perhaps it’s up to
you to embrace yourself, not just as a woman, but as a person who has value and
depth. Because a number or letter on a
tag should never define anyone, even though it often does.
I got into a car accident several
years ago, and while I wasn’t seriously injured, I attended physical therapy
for a while to get normal range of motion back in part of my body. When I finished my physical therapy, I was
feeling more fit and confident, so I kept it up. Over the next year, I went from a double
digit to a single digit, and I was thrilled with myself. But when I look back on it, I was
miserable. Sure, I looked great, but I
wasn’t really taking care of my body. I
wasn’t eating right, but hey…THAT NUMBER, THOUGH!
As I slowly put the weight back
on, I began to have mixed emotions. I
was feeling more comfortable in my own skin as I ate the things I wanted and
worked out on my terms…but as I had to pull out the larger sizes hiding in the
back of my closet, I began to seriously shame myself. It’s a slippery slope, trying to find where
you’re the happiest; and not just the happiest, but the healthiest, too.
My ultimate goal is not a number
or a letter, but an overall state of wellness.
I want to be happy and healthy and present. I want to eat the foods I want to eat, when I
want to eat them, without having to worry about whether my jeans will fit. (Okay, let’s be real…yoga pants.) I want to be healthy and able to walk across
campus or on the trails near my house without huffing and puffing. I’d say I want to be able to run a decent
distance without dying, but I’d be lying because running is not my thing, but
MAN…wouldn’t it sound all good and goal-ish right about now? Most of all, I want to be present in the
lives of my children. I can’t really do
that if I don’t take care of myself, can I?
So, when I find myself lacking
the motivation, I think of how vastly different their lives would be if I
wasn’t around. Where would they be? Who would be filling my shoes? Would they miss me as much as I’d miss
them? I hope we never have to find
out.
One of the most frustrating
things about the whole body shaming/unrealistic expectations is that it doesn’t
exclude anyone. Someone who is super
skinny (we’re talking they can stand sideways, stick out their tongue, and look
like a zipper) may want nothing more than to have amazing curves and a little
meat on her bones…but maybe she has a medical condition where she can’t gain
weight. Maybe an eating disorder holds
her back. Skinny girls don’t have it
easy either. And instead of being supportive of each other,
we give each other grief by way of sidelong glances, obvious whispers, and
judgment.
I want to eat potatoes. I want to enjoy an “All the way” Starbucks
whenever I want. I want to bake homemade
bread and eat it while it’s still warm.
I. Want. Carbs. But I also want
to be healthy. There’s a balance, and it’s
different for each of us. Somehow,
somewhere along the way, I became more worried about how others would perceive me
instead of how I see myself.
Side Rant: WHAT IN THE WORLD IS
UP WITH THE MEN IN THIS WORLD WHO CONSTANTLY ASK FOR PICTURES VIA TEXT IN
VARIOUS STAGES OF UNDRESS??? I mean,
have a little self-respect, ladies. If
you’re in a solid and committed relationship and you’re confident, rock on…but
so often I feel like men prey on those who are self-conscious, asking for
pictures whether they’re fully interested or not, just to see if the woman will
deliver. I don’t understand it. I really don’t. Because if you’re one of the women who do
succumb to their requests, and they don’t respond, what a blow to your
psyche. You’re so much more valuable
than that. Who doesn't want to look good naked? But it's not the perfect, non-sagging skin that makes you look good. Y'all, it's straight-up confidence.
Remember that you have
self-worth, and that there are people who love you and adore you in spite of
the flaws you see highlighted every single time you look in the mirror.
Isn’t the way it always is? We tend to see the very worst versions of
ourselves. Any zit, dark spot, fat roll,
cellulite forest, chubby part…well, it sticks out like a sore thumb with a neon
Vegas sign pointing at it saying, “LOOK AT ME! I’M HIDEOUS!” Truth be told, I bet nobody else
notices. We’re far too caught up in our
own imperfections, our own billboards of inadequacy. It’s not worth it…but do you know what is?
Being real. So be real.
Be you. Nobody does you as well
as you do.
As for me, I just want to be real
and learn to embrace all of my cellulite, thick thighs, and imperfections…and
maybe I’ll get there.
Someday.
Aubs
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