Showing posts with label beauty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beauty. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Thoughts at 9 A.M..........



Beauty........Just what is beautiful?...............................And is it worth dying for?


I was born in the late seventies with my mother wearing bell bottoms and funky peace signs. I grew up in the eighties and nineties watching her painstakingly adjust her shoulder pads and fluff out her permed monstrosity she called a hair do. I remember "Sweating To The Oldies" with my mother in our guest room turned ala workout studio. I remember my mom squeezing herself into too tight of shiny black spandex and thick white sweat bands working out, trying like all get out to achieve a body image much like Olivia Newton John. I remember her fad diets and her exuberant smile when the pounds melted off. But mostly I remember her disappointment that even after all of the hard work and diets that her body never looked like Olivia's. No matter how hard she tried. She felt bad. She felt inadequate.


I also remember looking at my Barbie doll and wishing that I too would look as fantastic when I grew up. That my kinky red hair would turn a gorgeous shade of platinum blonde, that my freckled pasty skin would one day have that "Florida tan", that my boobs would stand out without a bra, and mostly that I would have a tiny little waist that would compliment my perfectly balanced and yet adorable tip toed feet.....

I was devastated when my mom explained to me at the tender age of seven (after I called my 57 lb body fat) that no, I would never look like a Barbie doll. Because Barbie was made of plastic and that wasn't what a real woman's body looked like....Looking back on it, I wonder why that same process of thought hadn't occurred to her that she would never look like Olivia Newton John either, because my mom had a different woman's body type. We were both stuck in a viscous cycle of hating  and punishing our bodies to make them appear to be something they could never be...perfect.

I truly believe that a driving force, but not the only force, of having eating disorders do come from the ridiculous ideals of what we believe being beautiful is. Now a days, we have models that look more like heroin addicts rather than real and healthy women. Clothes are paraded down red carpets on models with no curves, no breasts, no hips. Actresses are constantly told to lose weight to appear smaller on film. Magazines broadcast tiny framed women with skeletal shoulder blades and frail arms making their heads seem large and cartoonish. Their frames resemble prepubescent boys rather than women. It infuriates me. I remember growing up when models like Cindy Crawford were thought of as beautiful. In reality, she is much slimmer than the average woman and yet, today she would be considered a plus size model. She is a size 10.

 Why we take such direction from some of the clothing designers (male especially), or critics that point out just is wrong with our bodies is a mystery to me. I mean, have you seen these people? Why in the hell would I take beauty advice from someone who has so much collagen in their lips that they could double as flotation devices or have had so much plastic surgery that they can no longer close their eyes properly? What does a man know about having a woman's body? How it moves? How it ages? How it changes after children or puberty, even?

Then we go a step further and actually "fat shame" other women ourselves. We have bought into this facade of what beauty means and we perpetuate it on others. How dare she gain fifteen extra pounds! How dare she wear that too tight of shirt! Why is that fat girl not eating a salad!?!

We judge others on such paltry things such as breast size, butt shape, the diameter of the waist. We are so obsessed with weight that there are literally millions of dollars being made at our expense so we can shrivel up further to meet an image that was never really real to begin with. Why do we do it?

The old joke of a woman asking her husband if her dress makes her look fat or if her pants make her ass look fat is only funny because it is true. We judge ourselves and fear others will to, simply by how our butt looks in a pair of jeans. God forbid we actually have an ass to begin with. We wouldn't want to be known as a "fat ass".

We judge ourselves. Looking down in the mirror with our foreheads wrinkled and mouth twisted with a grimace as we pinch our stomach rolls or fatty tissues blaming and shaming ourselves for not looking more like a Victoria's Secret model. It makes no difference in our eyes that those rolls have been earned by actually living, giving birth, medications, or what have you. We hate them and worse, we hate ourselves for still carrying them around.

We tell our children that they are beautiful no matter what and yet we do not hold ourselves to those same standards. Children aren't stupid. They repeat what they see and they do what we do.

If I had a dime for every time I read a facebook post from a teenage girl claiming how ugly or fat she was, I would be one rich woman. These girls who are almost always thin, that spend countless hours taking selfies in the bathroom mirror, can't see their worth or their potential as a human being because they think that beauty is the only measure in which you can be counted. They only see that if they turn sideways they are not translucent and therefore they feel they are still not good enough.

It is ridiculous that we hold ourselves to these unrealistic expectations. Especially, when those people we see on tv and magazines and movies cant hold themselves to those expectations either. That is what Photoshop and make up shading is for. We have unknowingly created an epidemic of women hating their bodies, hating themselves, and believing that they are not beautiful because of what the scale says. Now I know, that eating disorders are not just about that. There is other things at play, but the media does not help. We have become a world obsessed with beauty, weight, and dress size. And we have become delusional to the point where we actually feel that those three things are inherently connected. The dysfunction starts with younger and younger girls. They learn to despise their bodies early on from ages of three to five. They continue to hate themselves and their looks all through their lives never realizing that no one can stand up to these expectations. Models starve themselves, actresses have plastic surgeries and special diets. We live in a world where the average female adult is a size 14. Our actresses tend to range from size 2-4. Our runway models are a size 0. We are told we have to look a certain way, act a certain way, dress a certain way or we are just not good enough. We are not beautiful.

 And I know that although eating disorders aren't just about the public's view of women, I truly believe it helps promote shame and misguided self views. Since birth when we are made to feel inadequate simply because we may take more than one yard of material to make a garment that fits us. We hold ourselves so low that we actually feel less than because our dress size isn't what the media says it should be.

We constantly talk about praising ourselves as women and yet each day we look in the mirror and we do the exact opposite. We aren't celebrating ourselves and our worth as women, we are condemning ourselves. We are shaming ourselves. We have forgotten that beauty doesn't rely on how fat our ass is or how pouchy our stomachs have become. Beauty is in our strength, our compassion, our intelligence, our bodies are beautiful. We make and carry children with them. And we make milk for those children with them. We hold our loved ones with them. We can be firefighters, and doctors, and teachers, and soldiers, astronauts, and stay at home moms, and bloggers, and scientists, and anything we ever dreamed....with our beautiful magnificent bodies....that we take for granted. Because we have the nerve to have more than just a jutting hip bone for thighs.

We keep calling models curvy....where the hell are the curves? I keep looking. I don't see how that word applies to them. Can someone point them out to me? Because curves don't mean hip bones and shoulder joints. It means glorious fat under the skin thus forming a rounded shape...A.K.A curves.

Fundamentally it shouldn't matter what size you are, what body shape you have, or what the scale says. Beauty is not a number. Not a number on a scale, nor an age, nor a dress size. Beauty has nothing to do with mathematics or the garment industry. Beauty is who you are as a person and your belief in your own personal worth. That's it. That is all beauty is. It's love and compassion and the small things you do everyday to help others. It is not a make up brand or a high heel. It is what you carry on the inside.

When we have little girls telling their mommies that they are fat, there is a problem. When we have teenagers worrying more about waist size rather than getting a good education, there is a problem. When these young women and children start starving themselves to be thin, there is a problem. When we sit in a dressing room calling ourselves ugly defaming names because the tiny swim suit makes us hate ourselves, there is a problem. We are worth so much more than that.

When did we start lying to ourselves that healthy means rail thin? Being grossly over weight isn't healthy but neither is being underweight.

Our bodies are our bodies. We don't need to compare them or make labels for them. They aren't a music genre. They are our flesh and bone. They are a part of us and it is high time we stop letting other people tell us that they aren't the magnificent creations they are. Whether you are a size 0 or a size 47, you are beautiful. Whether you have small breasts or large breasts, you are beautiful. Whether you have a fat ass or no ass at all. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL!

Being fat isn't disgusting. Being thin isn't the most important thing in life. Being healthy does not mean starving yourself.

You already have the beauty you think you are lacking. It is in the scars that you have, in the flaws that make you unique, in the smile lines around your eyes, in the strength of your personality, in the life that you are living. You don't need to kill yourself to be what you already are. Own your body. Love it. Accept it because it is beautiful and you deserve to know the truth. You are already what you are seeking. Own it.

Neurotic Nelly






Saturday, November 23, 2013

My Mind Is Broken.......

My mind is fragile. Sometimes it feels like a rice paper lantern that has been painstakingly glued back together to hold it's original form. It is thread bare in some places and see through in others. However torn and glued it does illuminate and I hold on to that.

Beauty doesn't come from what others tell you about yourself. It comes from within. Beauty is a state of mind. How can I be beautiful if my mind is broken? My mind is broken? Definitely.

And so it lies there staring at me in the mirror with glassy eyes, bad breath, and an all knowing smirk. I am different. I am an enigma. An oddity.

It  has been a struggle to learn to love the broken person inside my own skin. The broken bits of myself. The over emotional slightly hysterical woman that freaks out when things aren't the way I feel they should be. The angry person that hates when people are mean to each other. The person that cries at sappy Hallmark cards and lovey-dovey commercials or moving stories. The anxiety prone woman that winces at the thought of not having control over certain situations. The germ-a-phobe that scrubs til her knuckles bleed. The over active intrusive mind that shows herself unwanted images that make her want to bang her head into the wall over and over and over again just to make them stop. The insomniac that can't turn these images and thoughts of dread off even when it is three a.m. in the morning and she has to get up at six. The person who can't work. The person who is afraid to take the bus by herself because there are forty million things that could go wrong. The person that sometimes, I swear to God, has the most sluggish brain and can't think fast enough. The over emphatic person that puts everyone else's feelings and needs before hers and has trouble seeing when she is being used or taken advantage of. The guilt ridden sorry excuse of a human being that grovels in shame and guilt for absolutely no reason.The always unsure, never clear, doubter that has doubts even of what she absolutely knows to be true. The word twister that twists her own words in her own mind making her wonder if she offended anyone or hurt their feelings. The health fear promoter that makes herself fear she may have something horribly wrong with her medically. The contamination starter that tries to make her believe she has poisoned herself or loved ones with imaginary substances that are no where near the food...

These are all me. Bits of me floating around in my own broken mind. I have had to learn to forgive them. I have had to learn to accept them. I have had to learn to live with them. I have had to learn to understand them and work with them. Most of all I have to learn to love myself even though I am broken. It is hard because I wanted to rebel. I wanted to hate myself growing up. It was easier to hate myself rather than to look at myself and work on who I am. It was less scary if I just hated and ran away from the truth. But truth never really goes away does it?

Broken things are not ugly. They are unique. One does not simply throw out the Sistine Chapel because the paint is cracking. One does not simply ignore the Sphinx because he has no nose. One does not simply stop visiting the Eiffel Tower because it can not handle one more coat of paint without fear of collapse. One does not simply bowl over the Leaning Tower of Pisa  because it leans. It leans that is the whole point. My mind is broken and that is the whole point. My mind is broken but I am not. These things are imperfect and damaged but they are beautiful. They are one of a kind. They are magnificent and view worthy. They are miraculous designs of life and I am too.

How is one beautiful if the mind is broken? Simple, all things are beautiful. All beings are made the way they are supposed to be. My mind is broken and I am beautiful.

 Bald is beautiful. Jagged scars are beautiful. Brightly colored hair is beautiful. Being young is beautiful. Being brave is beautiful. Your weakest fall to the ground on your knees moments are beautiful. Your courage to get back up is beautiful. Your ability to be gentle when you are the angry one is beautiful. Understanding is beautiful. Misfits are beautiful. Difference is beautiful. Love is beautiful. Being old is beautiful. Being wrong is beautiful. Being right is beautiful. Nature is beautiful. Being odd is beautiful.
Piercings are beautiful. Tattoos are beautiful. Tears are beautiful. Crooked smiles are beautiful. All shapes and sizes are beautiful. Kindness is beautiful. Life is painful and wonderful and gloriously beautiful. Beauty is beautiful and it has no limits or guidelines. It simply is.


So be beautiful. Be you. Own it. Stop apologizing for not being all the things you think you should be. Stop apologizing for not doing all of the things you think you could be better at. Stop worrying that you are less than others. You are not. You are beautiful and strong and perfectly wonderfully you.

Neurotic Nelly

Thursday, September 5, 2013

In The Eye of The Beholder......

We experience the same beautiful wondrous things in life the same way normal people do.

The perfect few seconds of quiet, reckless abandon, doubt, anticipation when the one you are infatuated with brushes their lips against yours for the first time......

The way the words fall from their mouths when they say you name...

The warmth of your favorite fuzzy sweater on a chilly Fall night....

The smell of puppies breath...

When the summer rain is so light it feels like carbonated bubbles on your exposed skin....

The salty breath of the ocean as it washes over you on the beach....

The security and calm of holding your loved one's hand as you walk down the street late at night....

Seeing your child's first smile....

Sipping warm cider by the fire place and snuggling up to a good book when the house is silent...

Laying in the grass and staring at the stars....

The perfect sunset, the smell of damp earth before it rains, the seducing rich taste of a hot chocolate......


We experience them the same way. But maybe we dwell on them longer. Maybe we cherish them more. Maybe because of the all of the ugly we see on a daily basis we clutch them so tightly to our chests our nails pierce the skin.

Because daily we suffer brutality form our own minds. Lies, deceptions, anxiety, confusion, and agony.....we hold dear the beauty we encounter. Maybe we appreciate the beautiful things more simply because we are so used to being confronted with the ugly things that our minds torture us with. We want to hear them. Smell them. Taste them. We want to devour the good and happy times in life because we are under no allusions that they are rare and beautiful. We want to touch them and grasp them. A sign that that there is something worth fighting for. That there is something to reach out to. Something that can possibly close the battle wounds and soothe the battle weary. Something that can glue back together our shattered parts. Our broken bits of soul. Things that could help makes us whole again......Maybe we cherish them simply because we have no other choice. Because not to would be giving up and we are too stubborn to give up........

So you see, we experience the beautiful things in life much the same way as normal people do, we just hold onto them like they are the last hope, the last dream, the last remembrance because for us they are.

We long to behold them. We long to be the eye of the beholder and finally behold something positive.
We long for beauty.

Neurotic Nelly

Monday, February 25, 2013

Beautiful

People come in many shapes and sizes. We have different cultures. Different skin tones. Different languages. Different personalities. Different ancestries. The only constant in all of us is our differences. Some of us are well. Some of us are not. Some of us are strong. Some of us are followers. Some of us are funny. Some of us are more serious. All of us deserve respect and understanding. We are all beautiful.
If beauty is just in the eye of the beholder than I must have huge hands. I see beauty in everyone. Pain that makes us struggle is beautiful. It makes us who we are. Strong unbending warriors. Beautiful in our strength.
Compassion is beautiful. It makes us strive to help the broken. To help the fallen. The injured souls.
Anger is beautiful. It makes us stand up and say I will not accept this. I deserve better treatment. Or this other person does not deserve your mistreatment. It inspires us to change the situation. It inspires us to change.
Sadness is beautiful. It makes us hold onto our loved ones more tightly. It makes us search out how to be happy.
Truth is beautiful. It makes us look at ourselves and the world around us and admit that things are not perfect. That life is an imperfect glorious experience.
Beauty is not what we look like or where we come from. Beauty is how we treat others. How we offer a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on. Beauty is standing up for those in need. Beauty is ending the stigma of mental illness. Beauty is a smile. It is a touch. It is comforting words. It is wiping away a child's tears. It is offering a a glass of water to the thirsty. Advice to the masses asking for help. It is accepting that you are who you are for a reason. Beauty is hope. Hope for a better day. Hope for change. Hope for others. Beauty is love. Loving your family. Loving your friends. Loving yourself even as broken as you are. Beauty is falling down to your knees in despair and getting back up. Beauty is in a child's laughter. A old man's poems. A mother's lullabies. Beauty is in a gentle warm breeze. In a moment of silence in the middle of a field. Beauty is in everything that we experience. Beauty is in our differences. Our beliefs. Our reaching out to be better people. In reaching for our dreams. In reaching out to help lift those that need to be lifted. Beauty is the seasons. Beauty is the trees, the water and everything in between. Beauty is in all of us and everything around us. We are all beautiful.
                                             Neurotic Nelly