As a woman, I am subject to hundreds of photoshopped images a week of an ideal body I’m supposed to be. There are headlines on every tabloid in the checkout line, saying “Look Leaner Naked!” and “Bikini Ready in 7 days!” During the commercials of every primetime drama, there’s at least one during every break telling me to dye my hair, to wash my face with a different product, to buy this mascara, or to drink this low-calorie juice. I am told everyday, somehow, through some medium, that I’m somehow not good enough in my own skin.
69 percent of girls in elementary school say that magazines influence their concept of ideal body shape. 81 percent of 10 year olds are afraid of being overweight. More than 90 percent of adolescent girls want to change at least one part of their appearance. A girl’s self-esteem peaks at age nine.
I preach function over form. I’ve told myself countless times that I love my thighs because they can run, I love my stomach because it can digest food, I love my head because it’s why I’m in college, and I love my arms because they can pick up my cousins and campers during the summer. Even though this is all extremely true, and even though this is all important, it does not change the underlying problem of being told everyday that the way I look in the mirror is not good enough.
I love my body. Not just for the functions, but also for the way it looks. I love the freckles on my nose. I love how one eye is slightly lower than the other. I love the dimples in my chin when I really smile. I love the way my hair refuses to curl and how it always has the same bump in my bangs. I love the stretch marks on my hips. I love when my legs chafe during the summer. I love my short nails from biting them constantly. There are many days where I wake up, look in the mirror and genuinely love and appreciate my body for the way it looks. And I see absolutely nothing wrong with that.
As women, we’re told not to be conceited. We’re told not to be loud and confident. We’re told not to be outspoken and not to be vain. We are told to be second-class, to stand in the background, to be vulnerable and not take charge, to sit back and allow things to happen. I’m willing to speak out about my political opinions and when I feel like someone is being insensitive, yet, for some reason, I don’t feel like it’s my place to stand up to say I love my body.
This is me, standing up, on a public platform, to say, I love my body. It is good enough. I do not need to change it to fit some ideal. It is who I am, it is what I am, and I’m perfectly OK with that. Everybody is good enough, and every body is good enough. And it’s OK to appreciate the way your body looks and to love your flaws, instead of simply accepting them. I don’t think anyone should hate their body, but I also don’t think anyone shouldn’t love their body. There is nothing wrong about wearing a tight dress and liking the way it makes your curves look. There is nothing invalid about taking a picture in a swimsuit and posting it on the Internet. There is nothing inappropriate about showing off your scars, your flaws, your curves or your lack thereof. Just as much as you are allowed to not hate your body, you are allowed to love your body. In fact, I’d go as far to say you’re required to love your body. Never let someone make you feel like it isn’t okay to love yourself, inside and out.
