Enough
As much as I try, I just can’t get away from society’s absurd ideas of true beauty. When I think of true beauty I think of my mother, my grandmother…the women who provided a sturdy foundation for who I am, and could only dream of being. True beauty is NOT a size negative zero form of whatever actress is in the moment. If I see one more supermarket tabloid about who is too thin, too fat, anorexic or obese I will scream.
I’m so sick of constantly sizing myself up to what society’s standards say I’m supposed to be. True, I’m no size 2, but I’m not sick. I’m healthy, or at least I try to be. I eat when I’m hungry, I work out because I just feel gross if I don’t, even though I detest working out. But why do I feel gross if I don’t? What’s wrong with coming home at the end of a busy day and just relaxing? Instead I jump into workout clothes and book it to the gym before the suits of DC get in there to work their day off. For as long as I can remember I’ve had to watch what I eat, chalk that up to genetics, I am my mother’s daughter, yet my mom is happy with herself…a far cry from how I feel. Everytime I put something in my mouth I think to myself, “How much is this gonna add when I step on the scale in the morning during my ritualistic daily weigh in.” I think how could I possibly eat without gaining anymore weight than I feel I already have.
It’s sad to know that I am 23 years old and yet I still look at myself in the mirror and cringe like I did when I was in high school…no, go back further, middle school. I wondered why I never looked like my seemingly gorgeous best friends always looked…how come I couldn’t be as skinny as my sister. I still think like that. I stand at the mirror day in and day out and pick at what’s wrong with me. I’m short waisted, I have big arms, legs, thighs, stomach, nose, the list goes on.
Because the concept of the word ”pretty” is to look like the Jessica Albas and Halle Berrys of this world, I continually curse myself for how I look. If only I could have had more will power and only eaten an apple for breakfast, two ice cubes for lunch and a flavorless piece of dry chicken and a glass of water for dinner. Sure, anyone could lose weight by eating like that, but they can also lose bone matter, strength, hair, skin color, health…why in the world would I want to put myself through that?!
How dare I think like that, how dare I think so badly of this body God gave me? At least I have a body that’s fully functional right? I know…poor me, I don’t like what I look like…join the club right? I used to pray every night for God to help get skinny, and in a round about way sometimes I still do, but now my prayer is just to be happy…happy with how He made me. True I have taken the vessel He gave me and had maybe one too many Tootsie Pops and one less work out than I should have. I’ve come to grips with the fact that I’ll never be able to eat whatever I want, only to keep from inheriting Diabetes like my mom, grandma, aunt and uncle have. I will never not be able to work out, only to keep my asthma from getting worse and keep my weight at an acceptable level. No, I don’t weigh what I’m supposed to, yes, I’m trying to fix that, but I refuse to stop eating, throw up or break myself at the gym every day. If society deems me fat and unattractive…too bad. I’ve got a family, friends and a boyfriend that all think I’m beautiful. I only hope that one day I can see what they see. Until then…it’s back to strict dieting and working out two hours everyday, only to keep from hating myself even more.
Poor me right…
