Now before you say to yourself, “not another body confidence
spiel…” I want you to know that I get it. We all know the media makes us feel
like crap. We all know that it’s unhealthy to pine for an unattainable shape.
We all know that we should be comfortable with who we are and what we look
like. And we all know that being constantly bombarded with coulds and shoulds is
just plain annoying, especially when all we’re trying to do is find out who we
are. And that’s why I feel like it’s okay, necessary even, to let you know that
being a woman is hard enough without feeling like you have to submit to the
warped, misogynistic standards of a few big-shot Hollywood a-holes with the moral
principles of Satan’s underworld army. Because you don’t.
Easier said than done, right? Exactly. It’s going to be a challenge to separate yourself from what you’ve been brainwashed into thinking since you were a toddler. If society had it their way, we would all pop out of our mothers’ uterus as size 2 blondes with pouty lips, smoky eyes, legs for days, waists the envy of Scarlett O’Hara, and the intelligence of a flea. Essentially beautiful, brain-dead robots. And if that doesn’t terrify you more than any horror movie you’ve ever seen, feel free to join the media’s sin parade. God speed.
However, if you are half as disturbed by what we’ve been
unwillingly subjected to for decades as I am, listen up. I know just as much as
the next girl what it’s like to feel completely inadequate. I was taught that
my body is a “temple” and that I was “bought with a price.” And that’s a
wonderful message. But it’s also one that is incredibly difficult to adhere to
when you live in a world like ours. I went through 12 years of education
feeling like I was somehow defective because I didn’t look like our culture’s
definition of “beautiful.” And trust me, it put a damper on everything I wanted
to do and accomplish. I can’t be a
cheerleader; I’m a size 8. He’ll never like me; I have elephant thighs. I can’t
go out tonight; I have a zit the size of Jupiter on my forehead. Thus, I
came to college thinking I’d be ostracized for my curves and imperfections.
And boy was I wrong.
Here’s the thing about college: nobody
cares. About anything. People are worried about getting an education. They
couldn’t care less if I felt like I couldn’t wear a crop top. In fact, if I
complained about my body instead of next week’s World Literature final, they
would stare at me as if I had pronounced that I was the supreme overlord of the
Illuminati. Finding out that I could finally feel okay, confident even, in my
body was one of the most freeing experiences of my life. I have always liked
shopping; clothing was and is a way to express myself without feeling
emotionally exposed. But now, I could enjoy the experience of buying clothing
even more because a whole new world of possibilities was now open to me. I
bought a crop top, several in fact. I bought leggings. And wore them as pants!
I bought things that showcased my curves, not hid them. And for the first time,
I didn’t care what anybody would think of me. This new attitude soon carried
over into other areas of my life. I spoke up more often in class. I told people
what I really thought about books, movies, and politics. I felt comfortable
going out of my comfort zone and trying new things like eating sushi and going
parasailing.
And while this new-found freedom is incredibly empowering, I feel the need to share it with as many women as possible. I realize that the way I came about feeling comfortable in my own skin was unorthodox and that waiting until college to maybe feel better about yourself isn’t an appealing or especially realistic option. What I’m suggesting is that you consider what it truly means to not care about the opinions of others. You’re going to have to train your mind and body into loving yourself. You going to have to get up in the morning, look in the mirror and say, “I may not be perfect, but today I’m going to do what I want.” You’re going to have to put down the Vogue magazine and throw away the bottle of kale juice. You’re going to have to stop second-guessing yourself and stop analyzing every “imperfection” you see. You’re going to have to legitimately try to be happy with what life has given you. If you’re anything like me, it won’t come easy but it will come.
And when you’ve finally come to the conclusion that society’s opinion of you is worth about as much as a master’s degree in Pig Latin, you’ll be free to live your life exactly how you’ve always envisioned it. I’m not suggesting a feminist march down the streets of Hollywood. I’m not suggesting you write angry letters to your congressmen. I’m not suggesting you stop exercising or stop taking care of your body (after all, it does sustain you). I’m not even suggesting that you overhaul your entire outlook on life. I’m simply suggesting we, as women of sound mind, take control of how we let others affect us. Opinions are just that: opinions. And as soon as we realize how utterly unimportant they are in the grand scheme of things, the better off we’ll be.
And while this new-found freedom is incredibly empowering, I feel the need to share it with as many women as possible. I realize that the way I came about feeling comfortable in my own skin was unorthodox and that waiting until college to maybe feel better about yourself isn’t an appealing or especially realistic option. What I’m suggesting is that you consider what it truly means to not care about the opinions of others. You’re going to have to train your mind and body into loving yourself. You going to have to get up in the morning, look in the mirror and say, “I may not be perfect, but today I’m going to do what I want.” You’re going to have to put down the Vogue magazine and throw away the bottle of kale juice. You’re going to have to stop second-guessing yourself and stop analyzing every “imperfection” you see. You’re going to have to legitimately try to be happy with what life has given you. If you’re anything like me, it won’t come easy but it will come.
And when you’ve finally come to the conclusion that society’s opinion of you is worth about as much as a master’s degree in Pig Latin, you’ll be free to live your life exactly how you’ve always envisioned it. I’m not suggesting a feminist march down the streets of Hollywood. I’m not suggesting you write angry letters to your congressmen. I’m not suggesting you stop exercising or stop taking care of your body (after all, it does sustain you). I’m not even suggesting that you overhaul your entire outlook on life. I’m simply suggesting we, as women of sound mind, take control of how we let others affect us. Opinions are just that: opinions. And as soon as we realize how utterly unimportant they are in the grand scheme of things, the better off we’ll be.
"There is nothing more rare, nor more beautiful, than a woman being unapologetically herself"
-Steve Maraboli