I can’t sleep.
I’m not jumping to conclusions (I really am) but I think I may have developed insomnia.
Definitely one of the two.
I’ve exhausted all other possible ways to procrastinate/ attempt to bore myself to sleep so 15 minutes ago I sat down to write a fun new post for y’all.
Yeah, I just used the term ‘y’all.’
Can you feel the insomnia hitting me?
Anyway, as I started writing I saw something about Oprah’s body shape over the years on my facebook feed and I thought, “Yes, now that you mention it, I’d like nothing more than to see Oprah’s body shape change over time.”
The sad thing is, I actually thought that.
Then I proceeded to look at all 22 photos, spanning 22 years of weight fluctuations.
What is wrong with me?
Not only have I randomly become an
hypochondriac insomniac; I am now looking at photos of Oprah looking normal, then being super slim, then looking normal again. It’s weird. Right? Not that her weight is fluctuating. But that I’m looking at a gallery of it. Actually, her weight fluctuations are a little weird too. As is the fact that the wider public is so involved in them. But that’s a topic for a latter post.
This situation also begs the questions: Who even came up with the idea to comprise Oprah’s body shape photos into a gallery on a news website? What reflection does that decision have on societies values? And frankly, who actually cares how much baby fat she’s carrying (or not carrying)?
She gives away cars, she’s allowed to look however the hell she wants to without being scrutinized.
But my point is the media’s emphasis on how women look is never ending. That notion is nothing new of course; we live in a world where girls aspire to look like Barbie…which means being six foot tall, kidney-less, having boobs that would make them topple over and being size triple-zero.
To accurately mimic Barbie, you also need to have creepy hands that can’t move.
Sure ‘Barbie can do anything.’ Except actually hold something.
But I digress. Thanks to the internet (and pretty much every other media outlet) we’re constantly inundated with celebrities looking slimmer than the straws they’re sipping their diet cokes with. And not only are we inundated with pictures of the media’s portrayal of women, we actively participate in
gossiping talking about them and their weight (guilty as charged seeing as this post is about it). Thus we feed the metaphorical beast with every care we give about someone else’s body shape.
So it’s times like this I like to remind myself that:
a. Airbrushing isn’t real.
b. I’m okay the way I am. Even if I sometimes like to convince myself that the freckle on my nose is residue mascara.
c. Kate Middleton has a different body shape to me so there’s no point comparing myself to her. Besides she’s pregnant now so will soon cease having omnipresent photos where she’s looks likes she’s size 0.
d. No one is perfect. The japanese have a saying: ‘wabbi-sabbi’ which translates to ‘the beauty of imperfection.’ Thus our uniqueness is something each individual should celebrate. It also sounds like something that should go on Sushi…I’m now slightly craving sushi.
e. Buy sushi for lunch tomorrow.
f. I’m probably in need of some sleep.
Again, I digress.
Sometimes I just wish I can take out a billboard that says: “Girls, you’re beautiful exactly the way you are. Not everyone looks like a air-bushed, pregnant Kate Middleton. And that’s okay.”