I was speaking to a friend of mine who is gorgeous. I have always envied her long legs, her skinny body, her graceful movements. Even more, I have always admired her carefree carriage of herself, the way her insight and humor draw people to her, and her radiant smile.
I confessed to her that I am having a bad body day, month really, but let's focus on today. I woke up pouting. I confessed to her that I frequently tell myself that I am of viking stock and that I should have been a heavy weight boxer or a line backer. "Sometimes I look in the mirror," I confessed, "and it's as if I can actually see those football player shoulder pads under my shirt." Those times, and when I need to pee while camping or hiking, are the only times I wish I had been born a boy.
"What are you talking about!?" she exclaimed. "You are a viking, a football player, what in the world do you mean?"
Then she confessed, "My bad body image is those teenage girls that have braces, and frizzy hair, and are still chubby, but they don't know it's a bad idea to wear pants that are WAY too tight and then their bellies and their muffin tops hang over it. Sometimes I go out to the store or somewhere, for whatever reason, and I feel like a hot mama. I sashe around the aisles, and I just feel good. Then I go home and look in the mirror and I find that my mascara has run, my hair is frizzy, and I have a muffin top over the top of my pants and I am mortified that I am that teenage girl."
I laughed and so did she and then she continued, "The truth is, I am growing horns. Picture me, and then picture if I had horns where they would be. That is what is happening to me! When I got pregnant, all my hair fell out. Apparently this is totally normal and thank god my hairdresser talked me away from the ledge and now my hair is growing back and it is coming in as two frizzy horns! Now I only like my hair when it is wet and it looks long and straight, or when it is really curly, but most the time, I just have horns!"
"We are crazy," I said. "It is so wonderful for me to hear this, because I know you are completely crazy. I know no one in the world would ever see your horns, or the muffin top, and even if either of those things is noticeable, they wouldn't detract from the overall beauty and grace of you. It makes me feel better. Like my friends aren't just lying to make me feel better all those times when they tell me I am crazy and I think, 'Well, I may look like a member of the NFL, but at least I have good friends who are willing to lie to me'."
She confessed, sometimes I complain to my husband and I tell him, "My body is so different now," and I can see him surveying the situation and identifying the land mines in every direction until he says, "It is different now, but..." and then I wail, "See, it is different!" and he knows there is no way to avoid any of the landmines and so he says, "Honey, you are beautiful," and then an uncomfortable silence settles in for a while.
"I did the same thing today too," I confess. "I recognize that this is the most idiotic thing in the world and yet, I woke up pouting today and told Vin I felt fat." "Do you want me to stop buying junk food? Or to stop pushing food on you?" he asked. "Of course, he is just looking for what he can do to help...
"But you hear him validating all your worst fears."
"Exactly! And then I just got worse. I told him that his dream women are too skinny. That there are other men out there who dream about Beyonce or Marilyn Monroe. Everyone says Marilyn was a 12, but I am what would have been a size 12 back then, I sniffled."
Vin, again trying to help, asked, "Who is Beyonce? I have never seen Beyonce. Has she been in any movies?"
My friend was hysterical, "Beyonce, shmeyonce! What planet are you from? How in the world did you start thinking you look like Beyonce?"
I have no idea how I started thinking this. I think it was in her Deja vu video where there are several shots of powerful, muscular legs and I thought, wow. I'll never be the sex goddess I want to be, but maybe my muscular legs could be sexy too.
"What planet are we from," I repeated, "and how can we torment men like this, not to mention ourselves!" I know there are a lot of reasons that we do it- the media, our self esteem, our unrealistic expectations of ourselves, and on and on, and I know that I will continue to slip in and out of these unhealthy thoughts. I also know that sharing them with someone, put them- at least momentarily - into perspective where it is possible to see how ridiculous they are.
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