Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Self image, the number one killer these days. I don't know that this is a stat but I am standing by it. Maybe it doesn't physically kill but it kills emotionally, mentally and psychologically. Everyday another person falls to their death bed because they feel they don't meet the standard.

This is a topic I don't do well with. I am not an expert. This musing is me preaching to the choir. Endlessly I am verbalizing my dislike for my body, my face, my skin, my feet, my voice, my hairiness as if I am the only piece of imperfection that graces this earth. It's horrible that somewhere along the line I went from being a little girl who revelled in life and appearance was the last thing on my mind to someone who can't leave the house unless her clothes are perfect or her hair is just so. Where did we go wrong?

It is nothing to walk down the street and see people, men and women who have fallen into the lie that they are ugly and worthless. Because in our society beauty is currency, so obviously if you are ugly your life holds no value. Wait, that is wrong, sex is currency and there is nothing beautiful about that. How do we let these people validate themselves based on brand names and dye jobs? When did we become so fake that we tell people who clearly are dying inside that they look great even though they have this incredibly fake exterior that disables us to identify their skin colour. When did we become so fake that our ability to reach out in love, to help someone embrace their individual uniqueness passed us by and we created this unrealistic cookie cutter image that if not obtained makes your whole life void.

I'm not saying their is anything wrong with sporting brand names,or having that sun kissed look on your cheeks. There is no fault in looking presentable and we can't go so far the other way that we don't care how we present ourselves, because image does play into self esteem, but there is a limit. There are people sacrificing their futures because they aren't skinny enough, tanned enough, tall enough, short enough. This image isn't attainable. The people who "have" attained this look haven't really. They have perfect six packs and amped up breasts thanks to surgeons and computer editing. Nothing about them is physically real.

It's sad to see people define themselves by this image. It becomes a drug, a sickness. They become extremists and at some point extremists die. They are called terrorists and they are terrorizing themselves internally and their fake exterior is the result we see.

I'm not condemning. Like I said before I have a wish list of improvements to make, but at what cost? I don't think I am willing to loose my self so that I can have triple E breasts and perfectly cut abs.

God help them...

3 comments:

poppy love said...

Little M and I just read your piece on self image. First of of we think you are beautiful second of all you have great hair! Third of all this is the very reason we go for walks in our sheep rubbers and pjs before we even wash our faces! Hmm maybe we are walking the fine of line of not presenting ourselves but I think we think it's good not to care about our hair on the back roads! And we think you should be a writer. Bye.

poppy love said...

hmm typos oh well!

Leah Joy said...

I applaud you on walking down back roads in your sheep rubbers & pj's without having washed your faces... This very morning I took the recycling to the top of the hill in my dirty white tank top & white shorts with music notes on them, without washing my face.

Thank you for the compliments. I aspire to be a writer.
Bye