Twenty Seventh

I dont understand our society, more often than not. It will constantly do backwards things, and we follow it. We watch it. We flow and ebb with it's changes and we either don't notice that it's a problem or, being America, pretend for as long as possible that it isn't there. We are a badly led flock, occasionally stupider than sheep.

Do you know what I've discovered in college this semester? I've had to remember how to think for myself again. I am in an English 102 class, and we have to take notes on everything we read. Articles we're given, what we go over in the book, among other things. Then we think critically about it. Then we discuss our opinions about the article she gives us, always a new one at the start of class. DO you know the last time I did that? Neither do I.

I'm in a Novel & Film class also. I love it, but it's a challenge and I never anticipated that it would be. But every class I have to think, and I have to compare. I have to end every homework assignment with 3 of my most interesting comments and/or questions. I don't know the last time I had to do that, either.

And maybe I missed some of that stuff because I was kicked out of high school and didn't do much education-wise after that. Maybe it's because I've been really listless and unmotivated for a long time and these things haven't been required of me for quite a while, so I haven't bothered to arise to a challenge that wasn't there.

I'm not saying I'm stupid, or that I don't think. I'm not stupid, and I do think; in fact I've always been very bright. It might not have always translated academically, but it's still true. And if you give me the right topic I can thing about it for hours, days, weeks, months, years even. But I'm the first to admit that it doesn't happen often, and there's only a few topics that have been able to keep my mind engaged for years straight.

But it's horrible to me that a bright 20 year old who has spent the last two years in a college environment has only just started to feel challenged academically. Seriously, society? I guess it goes to show how much education is actually valued. Although maybe I've been in the wrong classes with the wrong teachers. I'm not sure thats an excuse. Why should there be wrong classes that don't make a person think, with wrong teachers that don't challenge their students? But I'm probably being overly critical, or optimistic in my asking 'why?'.

There's another thing that ceaselessly bugs me though: weight and looks.

WHY DOES IT HAVE TO MATTER SO MUCH?!

Every single person that I know and love is endlessly beautiful (or handsome) to me. Seriously. If you insult the looks of any of my friends, I am instantly all over you in the worst of ways. Are they all perfect? With the hair, teeth, skin, body, clothing, etc? NO WAY! Is even one of them? NO! And you know what? THANK GOODNESS!

Our society preaches individuality. We do it in a way that no other place in the world can, because of the freedoms that we are given in our country. They say to be yourself while encouraging people to desire more than anyone else this mold of 'perfect'. Look like this model, resemble this ad, make yourself this kind of beautiful! Then it will be just what you want! That easy fix instant gratification happiness that they peddle to us all, YOU WILL ACHIEVE IT! Uhm...seriously. Dude. I call bullshit.

Do you know why my friends are so beautiful? Because they are so genuine. They are unique. They don't need some mold for perfect, because they are already marvelous and don't even for a moment need to reach in vain for something that can't be captured. And THAT is why they are beautiful. It's what their most gorgeous quality is.

A phrase I often use is, 'I'm no pixie'. While accurate, it cushions what I'm saying for whomever I'm saying it to. It cushions the fact for myself as well. And what is the fact? Well, I'm overweight. I'm 20 with stretch marks and not enough real reason for them. I don't have a particularly perky chest because it's too darn large to keep itself up (a fact that is not to be envied). I jiggle when I jump. I have enormous, Swedish hips. I don't wear make up and I don't disguise or primp the imperfections of my face. My favorite hair is after it's just air dried from the shower or in a sloppy bun. I will say all of this to you, I will tell you this. If I were in person with you, I'd be shrugging my shoulders and raising my eyebrows, indicating to you all, 'whats it matter?'. All the while attempting to disguise my deep loathing of most of what I just mentioned, and my overwhelming insecurity about it all.

Look, I'm the only one who knows what I really look like. After all, I'm the only one whose seen everything there is to me since I was old enough to bathe without adult supervision. And how, again, WHY is it okay to repulse myself, just because I'm too big to fit in societies perfect model?

ITS NOT!

It's just sad! Being naked should be fun! And I'm not talking about in the perverted or sexual way, but come on. It's down to just you. The body that you came into the world with, all you, no restraints. Whats more freeing than that, more personal? And so many hate it? Even when you're just alone. I'm not saying go join a nudist colony or anything, but few who have tried it can say they don't enjoy running around their living space, alone, in just their underwear or nothing at all! Dancing, even! WHY should a body be shaming, such an uncomfortable burden? Why can we love others and insist til we're blue in the face that they're beautiful or handsome, but vehemently reject it when it's suggested about ourselves? Why is it, once we hit puberty and even before that, so many are taught, somehow, not to love themselves?

No stranger who saw me walking down a street would label me beautiful. But ask any of my closest friends, and they will be ready in an instant to verbally spar with you if you have anything different to say about it. And I know God is with them, just ready and waiting to defend His beautiful creation and insist along with their voices something I have trouble understanding. What, exactly, is more important than that?

Can I say that I love living in my skin all the time? That every day I go against societies norms with reckless, marvelous, freedom & abandon? That I can manage to not care, and love myself just how I am all the time? Nope. Not even a little bit. I get insecure too. I've caved to what they've told me. That with this size, I can't be attractive or beautiful. I know that no one is harsher TO or ABOUT me THAN me. But there's no love in that. And thats not how I want to spend my days. Using my energy on hating something instead of loving it. Is it easy? Oh boy, no. Hah. But when is whats most worth it easy?

What I CAN say is that I have some really great days. Days when I'm not tied down by insecurity and don't even think to be ashamed as I prance around to music in undies. Times when I walk into a room and my first thought isn't to suck in my vile gut because I'm surrounded by people who don't have one. Days where I don't even think about it as a vile gut, just as my tummy. Days when I can see why other people, why the Creator of the freaking universe, think I'm beautiful.

Maybe I lost some of my point in this. It's not all societies fault. But every day that I don't hate myself, I remember afterward how amazing it felt not measuring to a mold. And I guess I just wish they'd encourage happiness within yourself that is less based on the outside of yourself. For all that they insist beauty comes from within, they sure place a lot on the kind thats outward.

Sorry society. I guess I just encourage real people who revel in the fact that they don't have to hold to a mold.