Aren’t You Tired of Being Brainwashed???

This was my first photo shoot. I was 13 and thrilled someone thought I could actually be a model. Afterward, my manager informed me that I would need to get a nose job and lose 10 pounds. Apparently, I was too fat and my nose was too wide to be a model. Today, this abhorrent advice to a child makes me angry. At the time, it heightened my insecurities and prompted me to starve myself more.

In elementary school, my childhood best friend and I would flip through the pages of magazines and call “dibs” on the body parts we wanted. 

“I want her legs” I would exclaim.

“Fine then, I will take her hair,” my friend would counter.

In this way, we would deconstruct the image of each woman and turn her into parts. Decades before I understood the concept of “objectifying women”, I learned the process.

As we compared ourselves to the women on the pages of the magazines, we were confronted by the devastating realization that we didn’t measure up. Flipping through magazines turned into sessions of self-loathing. My friend, being African American had another layer to deal with. According to mainstream fashion magazines in the 80s, she did not have the “right” skin color for beauty.

A MASSIVE BRAINWASHING CAMPAIGN

I believe we are subjects of a massive brainwashing campaign that is assaulting our lives and wreaking havoc on our self-image. 

Every day, we are bombarded by images and products that are designed to first set a standard of beauty and then to capitalize off of that standard by selling products that are created to “help” us achieve that standard.

If the standard was more realistic and attainable, the beauty and fashion industry, and advertising industry as whole, would go bankrupt because we would all be happy with ourselves and we wouldn’t need their products.

For me, it didn’t start with magazines. My ideas of beauty were being shaped from the moment I was handed my first baby doll, which I am confident was white with blonde hair and blue eyes. And don’t get me started on Barbie!

According to an article in the Huffington Post, if Barbie were a real woman, she would be 5’9″ with a 16″ waist (only room for half a liver and a few inches of intestines), and have a neck twice as long and 6 inches thinner than the average woman, which would render her incapable of lifting her head. With those proportions and a size 3 children’s shoe, she’d have to walk on all fours!

Nobody told me that the Barbie standard was an impossible one. I wanted to be her.

ORIGINS OF AN EATING DISORDER

Thanks to these magazines, dolls and supporting commentary on the standard of beauty I received from family members, I discovered the power of a calorie and began dieting at the age of eight. I was 10 years old the first time I stuck my head into a toilet bowl. I hoped that I could purge myself of all of the dangerous and beauty-destroying calories I had just consumed. The failed attempt was a reminder that food restriction was the way to go.

I hid food in my napkins, spit it into my juice glass, or tucked it into my cheeks for later disposal to try to achieve the “clean plate” my family valued while avoiding the calories.

To make matters worse, demands that I “finish my food because there are starving children in Africa” were counterbalanced with comments about my pudgy tummy or thickening physique. I am embarrassed and deeply grieved to admit that as a young girl, I found myself jealous of the children in Africa I heard about. How much easier it would be to stay skinny if I weren’t surrounded by food?

WHEN YOUR BODY BECOMES AN OBJECT

When I began dating, I entered relationships with males who subscribed to and reinforced these same unattainable standards of beauty. Even if I were to lose enough weight to achieve a completely flat stomach, I would still fall short because this or that body part was the “wrong” shape, size or proportion. They agreed.

Getting into the sex industry only exacerbated the problem. In the ultimate form of objectification, my body became a product. Each night, my body was evaluated, bought and sold. At one point, I lived on a pack of gummy bears OR a small portion of frozen yogurt a day to stay thin. IF, I made enough money on a shift at the strip club, I rewarded myself with a small bag of pretzels from the vending machine.

BEAUTY IS A MOVING TARGET

To further complicate the issue, “beauty” is a moving target.

During the Italian Renaissance, full-figured women with large bosoms and hips and rounded tummies were the ideal. Reflecting this, Peter Paul Rubens painted portraits of full-figured women in the early 1600s. Today, “Rubenesque” is a polite way to say “big” or “plus-sized.”

In the Roaring 20s, in the dawn of the movie industry, a slim, boyish silhouette was the figure to have.

In the 1950s, rounded, hourglass curves were “in”, and icons like Marilyn Monroe and Betty Page were idealized.

This was followed by the Twiggy era in the 1960s where slim, androgynous figures were once again “the thing”. This period also marked a shift in the way we were taught to “control” the shape of our bodies. Historian Joan Jacobs Brumberg, notes the following:

“It wasn’t just feminists who burned bras… Bras and underwear changed. The body becomes something for you to control from the inside, through diet and exercise, instead of exterior control through the corset.”

Next was the super model era of the 80s when slim and athletic was considered beautiful. Then it was the waif period in the 90s when the “I haven’t quite kicked my heroin addiction and I definitely don’t eat” look was in.

Today, we are being told we need a flat tummy with large breasts and a plump behind, and a thigh gap- a look that many are turning to plastic surgery to achieve. Is this even possible without surgery?!

TELLING ME I’M PRETTY WON’T FIX IT

This beauty paradigm I have subscribed to, the one I have been brainwashed to accept has brought deep pain and great angst to my life. It has caused me to starve and purge, to judge and disqualify. I have wasted countless hours comparing, contemplating and obsessing over beauty.

Even if someone were to tell me that I am “pretty or beautiful”, it doesn’t do anything to diminish the struggle… if anything, it enhances it. These statements only reinforce the paradigm. It’s like saying, “Don’t worry, you do measure up”, in which case, aren’t we still using the same yardstick?

WE NEED A NEW PARADIGM

I have learned that the solution to this angst isn’t reaching the target. The solution isn’t losing weight or finding the right under eye cream or getting a tummy tuck.

The solution is changing the paradigm. Changing our entire belief system about what beauty actually is.

About a year ago, I posted this before and after pic. 

Before and after: Five miscarriages, one full-term pregnancy, complicated c-section recovery, lots of grief, torn ACL, all while doing my best to be a wife, mom, and leader. I am thankful for two beautiful children and a husband who loves me at every size. I would be lying if I told you I am perfectly comfortable in my skin. I look forward to a day when I feel stronger and healthier.

In the meantime, I am learning to have grace for myself and love myself in the process and I am praying for God to give me new eyes… eyes to see the true beauty in me and all around me. The beauty of kindness and generosity. The beauty of actions that lead to justice and freedom. The beauty of love and compassion. The beauty of hope in the face of impossibility. The beauty of a heart that dreams and a life that pursues a dream. The beauty of selflessness and sacrifice, of gentleness and integrity.

God give me new eyes.

GREAT BOOK!	AWESOME PODCAST ON BODY IMAGE   (With a couple of my closest friends)