Tag: body image

Ingress

MissM2 Comments

I absolutely DESPISE when people say, “don’t let it get to ya, champ!” after someone else tells you something hurtful or offensive. Trust me, sir, if I had a choice in the matter, I would not “let it get to me.” But there’s this cute little thing called emotions, and when people are insensitive, it makes me hypersensitive. 

I have noticed recently that it is mostly when a select few males give their oh-so-entitled and completely unwarranted opinions that I get the most upset.  

“I liked your hair better blonde.” 

“Are you gonna eat that whole thing? You’ll get fat!” 

“You should start running, or go to the gym!” 

“You’re skin is pasty.” 

Not to generalize, but I honestly couldn’t tell you the last time I verbalized my verdict on a man’s appearance without him asking for my opinion.  

But for some odd reason, many men I’ve encountered in my life seem to feel that their opinion is always welcome because I am always in pursuit of their approval. 

As a girl in this world, I have plenty of societal pressure for acceptance without added remarks on a personal level, thank you. I already know that I’ll never be beautiful until I look like Kate Hudson or J-Lo (which is literally impossible unless you ironed and stretched me out like Play-Doh, removed each of my zillion upon zillions of freckles, gave me a spray tan and cheek bones, breast implants, hair extensions, and lipo.) 

But aside from being a girl, I am also a human. A flawed one. I’m short. I have zero muscle definition. My skin is comparable to an albino’s. Seven times out of ten, my hair is a frizzy mess. I don’t have an airbrushed complexion, or eyes as big as the moon. 

Y’know what I do have, though? A brain. And a personality. 

So how about instead of pointing out and re-pointing out all of my visual shortcomings why don’t you try commenting on my personality? 

Instead of, “you look good in that blouse,” why don’t you try, “you are so funny, you crack me up!”

I, for one, would MUCH rather be complimented on my personality, thoughts, accomplishments, and creative humor than my hair, legs, or outfit choice.  

To be frank, I don’t care if you like what you see. Because I like it. 

In the words of my idol, Tina Fey, “do your thing, and don’t care if they like it.” 

This is my new motto, folks. 

M. 

Undamaged

MissM7 Comments

Some lessons are best taught by 9-year-olds. 

I have the pleasure of playing “mommy” this weekend while my parents are basking in the Floridan sun. One of my parental duties is to get my baby sister ready for school in the morning. It was her third grade class elections yesterday, so I insisted that she get up early so that I’d have time to curl her hair so she could “look the part” while delivering her campaign speech. (Aren’t third graders a little young to be having a student government? Like what are their issues? Broken crayons?) 

Anyway, after forcefully removing her from her bed and dragging her downstairs into my bedchamber, I sat her down in front of my mirror and began taming her bed-head. 

Twenty minutes later, after i’d finished curling her hair, I told her how pretty she was. She responded perfectly. 

“I know.” 

When was the last time you responded to a compliment like that? Can’t remember? Me neither. 

This feisty, little 9-year-old has yet to have her self esteem torn down, ripped to shreds, and irreversibly damaged, despite the toxic environment around her. She doesn’t compare her outward appearance to the girl next to her. She doesn’t look at covers of magazines and think “man, I wish I looked like her.” And you better believe I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that her self-esteem stays untouched. 

How beautiful would that be, if we were all able to have the same confidence as my baby sister? To be able to sincerely accept and believe a compliment. To have an unchanging perception of ourselves, and to love that perception in its entirety. 

I can honestly tell you that I have no idea what that would be like. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t refute a compliment from a stranger, or gaze in the mirror with an attitude of disapproval. 

And also, why is it so frowned upon to accept a compliment? If someone were to tell me I had beautiful eyes, and I were to respond with “I know,” the complimenter would think of me as an arrogant, stuck-up snot. But I say, what’s wrong with expressing that you like something about yourself? I mean, definitely, moderation in all things, but in my personal opinion, there is nothing wrong with agreeing with someone when they tell you they like something about you. 

It’s okay to love yourself. In fact, it’s crucial. 

M.