One for the Ladies

            I know that this blog is about teaching, and lessons I have learned as a teacher, but as a Social Studies middle/high school teacher, I feel like I need to address a subject that is common amongst my future students, as well as my colleagues, sisters, and friends.  The issue of body image.  We know that we are beautiful, but often we are bashed with a message that we can never be small enough.  And for the girls that are built naturally to that small, they are given crap for being too small.  It seems like we, ladies, aren’t able to win. 

            A little background about myself on this topic.  I have never struggled with weight issues.  I’m pretty athletic, love being outdoors, and am kind of a health-nut.  However, I have felt the pressure to become perfect…to make sure that I’m measuring up to standards.  And I have failed.  Utterly failed.  I have felt that disgust for myself, and just wanted to go hide somewhere.  It sucks.  And worse, I have had that temptation to take extreme measures to “perfect” myself.  Thankfully, it never got that far.

            But for many girls and women, extreme measures have been taken, and there is a silent hurt that isn’t mentioned much.  To clarify, the issue I am not talking about is health.  We know well enough what to do and not do to keep ourselves healthy.  But what I am talking about is when all is said and done, when we look into the mirror, how do we see ourselves, and why?  And that is why I wrote the poem I want to share with you.  I hope it helps to relate, but it also encourages healing.

“Lonely Thoughts and Tears Caused By Mirrors”

Please do not tell her,

“Oh, you are so skinny!”

As if to say,

“You are so beautiful!”

For what happens if one day

She no longer is

Thin?

Please don’t tell her

She has nothing to worry about:

Because she eats right and works out.

For what if one day

Her figure pluses in size?

I know you mean well.

But don’t you realize that these compliments

Fall

On

This girl

Like some kind of definition?

A standard

She struggles to uphold.

This girl knows she won’t get the gold.

She turns on the TV and angels with wings

Lay the foundation of what is called, “stunning”.

Every other ad shows women with small, tight abs

And gives tips on how to lose every inch of fat.

This girl knows she ain’t that.

But that doesn’t erase the lonely thoughts…

She is slim, trim…now…sure.

But what about tomorrow?

Today the girl decided to eat a Big Mac with fries and everything that comes with it,

Because she likes the taste of the food.

But by nightfall she is crying in the shower,

Lonely tears stream down her cheeks,

“If I was beautiful then,” she thinks,

“I won’t be tomorrow.”

The amount of food she consumed repulses her.

She vows to stop eating;

Regurgitate the “glutinous sin”...

The thought is temptin’…even for only a second:

‘Maybe if she puts her body through hell,

Maybe it can be seen worthy of heaven.’

She is mindful of the flab -

No matter how small it is, how biologically necessary it is –

The fact is, she still sees it - despises it.

Disgust rises in her;

She grabs the skin with fingers

Meant to dig away the “abhorring matter.” 

She makes a fist and pounds at her waistline,

Wishing it was…if only it could be…

Minimized in the next moment.

She quietly utters her plea:

“Mommy!  Help me please!”

She knows woman to woman

They struggled with the same battles;

They fight the same hurts.

But her momma is still

Haunted by the demons found in mirrors.

Everything becomes comparable.

Because the girl is closer to the model of perfection

Her concern is bearable.

So, the girl hesitates.  She silences her tears;

Retreats into her lonely thoughts.

How is it that generations upon generations

Of women are so forlorn with their tears

Yet are in a company of desperate hurt?

How is it that daughters, sisters, mothers

Are so distant in their talk

But are so empathetic in their thoughts?

Mirrors shroud and surround.

Standards are pressed; words expressed

Forcing the genuine beauty

To be forgotten.

Making it to be a foreign memory, a dream;

Unreachable.  Unattainable.

What happened to the time

Where a woman’s splendor was found

In the admiration of her character

Rather than in the structure of her anatomy?

What happened to the era of Marilyn Monroe

Where women were seen as the hottest thing on the block –

Because of their smile, voice, integrity, and kindness

And not because they lacked a waistline?

Doors must be opened;

Tears cannot be hidden.

Girls, we cannot convince ourselves

That silence will protect a peaceful pacifism;

We need to confess our sorrows.

However, the pain cannot be possessed.

There will be a morning full of healing.

We shall stand confident,

Direct- Our smiles reflecting

That the scars’ no longer wound us;

Knowing

We have finally remembered

The fabulous women we are.

Little girls:

Stare in to the mirror

That has caused so much lonely tears and thoughts.

Dare the piece of glass to recall

The innocent days when you looked into your face

And knew without being taught,

That you had been graciously and wonderfully shaped.

Little girls:

You are stunning, truly beautiful -

Beyond all compare and comment;

Above all reproach.

Magnificent.  You are

Adorned with a joyous, entrancing life

Carrying an elegant delight wherever you step.

You are captivating, ravishing.

You are an immeasurable treasure

That is brilliantly formed.

You are whole just as you are.

            Ladies, I hope you will hone in on the last three stanzas.  You are gorgeous and beautiful.  Hands down-critics can’t touch you.  It is something that we need to keep reminding ourselves over and over until it is tattooed into our psyche until its second nature.  Such a part of us, that whenever lying standards come to press us in a box, we can immediately and confidently tell those ugly thoughts to go away.  Does that mean the thoughts won’t decide to tempt any longer?  Perhaps not.  However, what it means is that eventually, it will not hold any power.  It won’t hold any power.  I write these words, knowing that I’m still learning how to fight.  But I write these words knowing that it is possible to win. 

            There is a song by one of my favorite bands, Mumford and Sons, “The Cave”.  I absolutely love it, because it’s such a declaration that there is hope, freedom, and we can become who we are meant to be.  Despite the boxes, the ‘faults’ and growing fears, our broken minds, and for us ladies, our hearts, can be mended and refreshed.  Here is a link to the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgDNCmGr-Q4 .

            Before I send off, I want to leave you with one more piece of encouragement. Please do not hide yourselves any longer.  Do not be ashamed, because you aren’t the ‘model of perfection’ the media has so forcefully shoved down our throats.  You have an authentic beauty that is worth sharing!  Realize you have something deep inside you that makes you come alive, and it is in that, your beauty is revealed.  You- a living beauty brings joy and life to others.

“[We ask]‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous?’

            Actually, who are you not to be... And as we let our own light shine, we consciously give other people permission to do the same.  As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” – Nelson Mandela