I am tired of airbrushed images bombarding me daily
Of women made thinner, younger, more muscular
Of the lack of veins, splotches, wrinkles, cellulite, and stretch marks.
Of airbrushed tans and airbrushed abs.
I am tired of faux perfection sold to us as reality.
I am tired of the constant spate of advertising – and others – including ourselves
Telling us we are not thin enough, not young enough, not hot enough.
But if we buy X product, wear Y clothes, or hire Z as our personal trainer, we might – just might – make ourselves worthy enough for someone to love us. My value lies in not what I produce, but in how much money I spend in beauty products, diet aids, and self-help books.
I am tired of being valued more for my tits than for my knowledge. More for my ass than for my insight.
I am tired of being wooed on my insecurities instead of loved on my strengths.
I am tired of being an image first and a brain second.
I am tired of being a maiden, a mother, or a crone.
Can’t I just be a woman? Why can’t, someday, a man just be a man?
Why are we so defined by societal views of sex, even when we supposedly aren’t?
I am tired of constantly dieting to maintain a weight that is below normal to still be considered “heavy” by some because I have an ass, a belly, or my thighs have the audacity to rub together when I walk.
I am tired of women succumbing to anorexia or bulimia because we can’t otherwise control our surroundings or, we think, ourselves.
I am tired of women exercising constantly because we ate a scoop of ice cream after dinner and if we don’t burn off those calories – well, that is a sign of a weak, awful person, isn’t it?
I am tired of living in a society where it is a sin to wear an extra pound.
Where it is a sin to dress too provocatively or too saintly or too different.
Where it is not a sin to have sex, but where it is a sin to be a sexual being.
Where it is not as much of a sin to give it, as it is a sin to want it.
If we want it – we are whores, sluts, we have no self control.
That is really what it all comes down to, isn’t it? If you can’t control us, we must control ourselves. And that control comes under the guise of freedom.
But we are liberated, men say. But look how good you have it. In the U.S. we let you drive and vote and it is illegal to beat you and rape you. At least technically. So why are you whining?
Because someday, we need to be considered better than what we think we are. Not better than we actually are – just better than we think we are. Because indulgence is not a sin. Self-care is not optional. We are not awful people for taking care of ourselves. Because someone will still love us if we have cellulite or splotchy skin or weigh more than we think we should.
Hell, someday we might even be good enough that we love ourselves.