Following a lengthy conversation with my dearest of friends regarding women's body image (in both general and the most personal of terms) I have reflected on what drives what we crazy women folk feel about ourselves when we look into the mirror. Oprah once had a show about how the areas that we see our mothers struggle with as children, will be those areas that torment us for a lifetime. If the cycle is not broken, a negative body image can last generations and sometimes result in, extreme negativity, feelings of worthlessness, eating disorders and worse that can yield a lifetime of disillusionment usually reflected in the way a woman carries herself and often in her own sexuality. Oprah was right about that. I've heard my mom complain countless time about certain aspects of her appearance and usually those same complaints will be the first out of my mouth when I begin that downward spiral of negative vanity that women of this generation are all to familiar with. I have only recently begin to notice and truly pray that I break that cycle and not pass down many of the inherited insecurities I struggle with daily to my own daughter.
The conversation started when my friend mentioned that the week before she had met her husband's "size 0," perfectly manicured, and styled ex-girlfriend. Sparing the details of the conversation for both our sake, we came to the conclusion that for whatever reason, women are obsessive about comparing ourselves to one another. We are told what we are suppose to look like on movies and shown exactly what is ideal in the pages of a magazine. Once in People magazine they showed multiple pictures of stars who weighed less than 90 pounds and expressed "genuine concern" about the condition of their health. The next week the same stars were shown in their finest clothes as Hollywood's "best dressed." The first article...a public service announcement to protect the magazine from critics who might claim they endorse unhealthy eating behaviors. The second article...a glorification of obsessive, airbrushed beauty. It's no wonder we struggle.
In the case of my friend (and often myself), when we meet that person that comes close to what we consider ideal as prescribed by what we see in magazines, the comparisons accelerate more heightened and personal levels. It's an odd combination of self deprecation and extreme vanity all at the same time. Complicated. I know.
For now I hope to look inward. Inward at my own beauty in my identity with Christ. It's the only true beauty and the only beauty that will last. My outward appearance will always be an internal issue, but maybe I can strive to make it a positive one. If not for myself and for those around me, for my future little girl.
