I am not tall. I am not blonde. I am not skinny. Triple threat, or three strikes I'm out?
Neither a Marilyn nor an Audrey, I -like most women- fall somewhere in the middle. Despite the junk in my trunk, I do not have the balanced curves to turn Happy Birthday into a seductive display. One of my thighs is as big around as Ms. Hepburn's 19 inch waist. I may be Middle Eastern, but far from exotic...petite, but nowhere near delicate...
Lately, I have been working with one of my tutoring clients on improving her reading skills in French. One excellent way to practice this is to read popular magazines; the articles are simple and short, there are relevant ads that help with language development, and, if you're lucky, there might be a fun quiz to take! It's no surprise to any of us that the covers of such publications as Glamour, Marie Claire, or Cosmopolitan (or their French editions) are plastered with images of women with perky -yet subtle- curves, concave stomachs below the belly button, and hips so narrow they have to buy children's pants to fit them. We've all heard the expression "she's so skinny, if she turned sideways, she'd disappear." I really can't sum it up any further.
In the Occidental world, we live in extremes. We order a monster-sized "burger" made with pink slime and violently abused cows who have been force fed hormones (so that we can get more of this alleged meat from one animal), top it with something resembling cheese only in the fact that it is yellow, and pile on the mayonnaise as a lubricant to force the whole abomination down our gullet. Add on a wheel barrow of French fries and a 64 ounce soda and you have...a meal??? What I don't understand is how America can't seem to figure out this is why we are so obese. On the other hand, the media is unquestionably inundated with images of "beautiful" girls who, truthfully, look like they could use one of the aforementioned "meals." So my question is this: What the hell?
Now, I have to confess that I too love to indulge in a night of binge-eating bliss. I love pizza and beer just as much as the next middle class Midwesterner, so please don't mistake my disgust for pretentiousness. Once upon a time, I could eat and drink whatever I pleased and my generous metabolism would take care of the rest. But one day, darkness fell over the land and, on that rueful day, I started putting on weight like a grown-up. Henceforth, I have had to work (hard!) to accomplish my health goals. Of course, I slip up once in awhile, but I truly do make an effort every day to take care of the body that God has given me. (By the by, if we're keeping score, the cookies usually win.) I have (rare) days where I feel like my legs deserve their own magazine cover and I have days where I feel like too much hot dog squeezed into too little casing. Most days, I just feel like an average, normal person. I don't claim to have great amounts of self confidence and inner peace with my body; I could, at any given moment, come up with a laundry list of things I would change about it. (Poor Habibi is the one who has to listen to my complaints. He's a champ.) But, at the end of the day, I know that I'm a generally healthy person.
Still, I have to ask myself why our world insists on praising unhealthiness. It seems that one can never be skinny enough. We outwardly scorn supermodels for their rail thin figures while we secretly envy them. Yet, in the same breath, we applaud women like Melissa McCarthy and Rebel Wilson for "embracing their bodies" and using obesity to make a name for themselves. Shouldn't all of these women be working towards achieving a HEALTHY weight and lifestyle? My intention is not to point out the flaws with these women's bodies -that never has been nor ever will be my place- but I think we can all agree that neither extreme is a good one. Maybe this two-faced, self-appointed judgmental nature is the reason I am so opposed to beauty pageants of all forms, but I suppose that is a soapbox for a different day. But it does beg the question: Are we already living in a beauty pageant where we all act as judges and contestants?
In the end, we have to to remember that no two of us are created the same so it is unrealistic to compare ourselves to our peers. Easier said than done, of course, when you see others with the figure you want and perhaps have worked so hard to attain. I'm sure I sound rather preachy at this point, but I suppose you could have stopped reading at any time. (Insert ambiguous emoticon so you will not mistake that last statement as hostile.) Maybe this is one of the rare instances in life where the existentialists and I agree: What does it matter? In the end, we're all worm food.
But maybe, just maybe, we can do the worms a favor and provide them with a healthy snacking option.
Neither a Marilyn nor an Audrey, I -like most women- fall somewhere in the middle. Despite the junk in my trunk, I do not have the balanced curves to turn Happy Birthday into a seductive display. One of my thighs is as big around as Ms. Hepburn's 19 inch waist. I may be Middle Eastern, but far from exotic...petite, but nowhere near delicate...
Lately, I have been working with one of my tutoring clients on improving her reading skills in French. One excellent way to practice this is to read popular magazines; the articles are simple and short, there are relevant ads that help with language development, and, if you're lucky, there might be a fun quiz to take! It's no surprise to any of us that the covers of such publications as Glamour, Marie Claire, or Cosmopolitan (or their French editions) are plastered with images of women with perky -yet subtle- curves, concave stomachs below the belly button, and hips so narrow they have to buy children's pants to fit them. We've all heard the expression "she's so skinny, if she turned sideways, she'd disappear." I really can't sum it up any further.
In the Occidental world, we live in extremes. We order a monster-sized "burger" made with pink slime and violently abused cows who have been force fed hormones (so that we can get more of this alleged meat from one animal), top it with something resembling cheese only in the fact that it is yellow, and pile on the mayonnaise as a lubricant to force the whole abomination down our gullet. Add on a wheel barrow of French fries and a 64 ounce soda and you have...a meal??? What I don't understand is how America can't seem to figure out this is why we are so obese. On the other hand, the media is unquestionably inundated with images of "beautiful" girls who, truthfully, look like they could use one of the aforementioned "meals." So my question is this: What the hell?
Now, I have to confess that I too love to indulge in a night of binge-eating bliss. I love pizza and beer just as much as the next middle class Midwesterner, so please don't mistake my disgust for pretentiousness. Once upon a time, I could eat and drink whatever I pleased and my generous metabolism would take care of the rest. But one day, darkness fell over the land and, on that rueful day, I started putting on weight like a grown-up. Henceforth, I have had to work (hard!) to accomplish my health goals. Of course, I slip up once in awhile, but I truly do make an effort every day to take care of the body that God has given me. (By the by, if we're keeping score, the cookies usually win.) I have (rare) days where I feel like my legs deserve their own magazine cover and I have days where I feel like too much hot dog squeezed into too little casing. Most days, I just feel like an average, normal person. I don't claim to have great amounts of self confidence and inner peace with my body; I could, at any given moment, come up with a laundry list of things I would change about it. (Poor Habibi is the one who has to listen to my complaints. He's a champ.) But, at the end of the day, I know that I'm a generally healthy person.
Still, I have to ask myself why our world insists on praising unhealthiness. It seems that one can never be skinny enough. We outwardly scorn supermodels for their rail thin figures while we secretly envy them. Yet, in the same breath, we applaud women like Melissa McCarthy and Rebel Wilson for "embracing their bodies" and using obesity to make a name for themselves. Shouldn't all of these women be working towards achieving a HEALTHY weight and lifestyle? My intention is not to point out the flaws with these women's bodies -that never has been nor ever will be my place- but I think we can all agree that neither extreme is a good one. Maybe this two-faced, self-appointed judgmental nature is the reason I am so opposed to beauty pageants of all forms, but I suppose that is a soapbox for a different day. But it does beg the question: Are we already living in a beauty pageant where we all act as judges and contestants?
In the end, we have to to remember that no two of us are created the same so it is unrealistic to compare ourselves to our peers. Easier said than done, of course, when you see others with the figure you want and perhaps have worked so hard to attain. I'm sure I sound rather preachy at this point, but I suppose you could have stopped reading at any time. (Insert ambiguous emoticon so you will not mistake that last statement as hostile.) Maybe this is one of the rare instances in life where the existentialists and I agree: What does it matter? In the end, we're all worm food.
But maybe, just maybe, we can do the worms a favor and provide them with a healthy snacking option.
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