The Real Woman

In today’s world, women’s issues are settled, right? If you consciously answered yes to that question, get out. Although there is a hoard of other issues I could rant about, the grandaddy of them all is the “real woman.” What is that even supposed to mean? No matter how you say it, real woman is so exclusive to at least one group. Aerie’s #aeriereal campaign, which means no retouching on their photos as well as the use of plus-size models, is great, but you’re still telling thin models that they aren’t real women. However, if you take away the real women label, you’re hurting the average woman. And in the end, seeing a plus size model, who usually doesn’t even fit the definition of plus sized by the way, doesn’t make me feel better about myself. There’s a good chance I’ll think the model is prettier than I am or has better hair or teeth.

Society has gotten so good at telling women they need to be better than they are that women can automatically find something else to feel bad about. “And for the talent portion of this contest, I will now list everything I don’t like about my body.” I can guarantee you that every woman has done this on multiple occasions, and if you find one that says she hasn’t she is lying. Why do we do this, though? It’s not as if our mothers are telling us from out of the womb that we need to do some crunches because we have a little stomach fat. And that doesn’t really happen when you’re older either. Society is like your passive-aggressive parent who wants you to do something but also wants you to think it’s your idea. “Eat healthy and you’ll lose weight, or just drink our detox tea and you’ll automatically lose 20 pounds!” So just because you’re not outright telling me that I’m fat doesn’t mean you’re not insinuating it. Instead of telling women that how you look is ok, they’re telling you that you can make it better. Because why would any woman actually be ok with her body?

It’s truly amazing how it’s programmed in our brains to compare ourselves to other women. I can honestly say that at least once a day I think, “I wish I could look like her.” And although I know I’m not alone, it feels like I’m on a deserted island of low self-esteem. I see other girls and think, “they’re so lucky they don’t have to worry about wearing a tight shirt,” but it’s likely that they’re thinking something similar about the next girl. These thoughts are so prevalent in any girl’s mind, and adults keep trying to tell us that who we are is beautiful and we don’t have to change, but everything we see in pop culture tells us otherwise. Society is a paradox; it says to accept who you are but then it also shoves pictures of size 0, beautiful women down your throat every day. How am I not supposed to compare myself to Candice Swanepoel when I buy a bra when her nearly-naked body is all over the place. Even a plus size model is a model; there’s never an average girl off the street modeling jeans. And that’s what the majority of us are, yet we see unattainable body goals every time we open our phone or turn on the tv.

To make it even more frustrating is the fact that no matter how hard I try, I will never look like Karlie Kloss. One, I am not six feet tall, and two, I don’t have that kind of body. The thing that fitness guides and weight loss advertisements never tell you is that not all women are the same. It seems so obvious, and yet it is so overlooked. Every single woman on Earth has a different body type. I have an athletic build, I will never have a thigh gap. That’s just life, and I can’t change it. The same goes for every other woman, we cannot change who we are. Do not believe that crap that people try to sell you because all it is is money; your bones are your bones. Not to mention that one of the most world-recongized symbol of health is your BMI (body mass index). Overweight is considered a BMI over 25, but this does not distinguish fat from muscle. So using this system, many Olympic athletes would be considered overweight because they have a large amount of muscle. The old view of health is not very inclusive; we are all different, but apparently society is not aware of that. As difficult as that is to realize, you’ll feel at least a little better once you come to that conclusion.

The saddest thing is that I remember thinking I was fat at ten years old. At ten years old I should have been watching Hannah Montana, not looking at my body in the mirror and picking out my flaws. I have a very clear memory of being on vacation at my uncle’s lake house and getting my first bikini from my cousin. It was brown and turquoise with boy shorts as the bottoms. I was very stylish. Right away, everyone wanted me to go put it on and I did, but I also remember nearly crying because I felt so bad and being so extremely self aware of my body. I was probably 11; no 11 year old should have to feel that way. But that’s how it is, that mindset starts so young because of the constant stimuli of photographs and videos. And the fact that I remeber this eight years later just shows the lasting impact these thoughts have.

I’m not naive; I know that the world cannot be changed in a day. A week is much more realistic. Just tell girls from the beginning that they’re beautiful. Stop telling everyone to lose weight or try the newest fad. Teach people to accept who they are, rather than yelling at them to love themselves while still selling them bathing suits on a model that they will never physically be able to look like. Obviously be healthy, but do it for your well being and not to be skinny. And please treat each other with kindness and respect. Getting angry at a girl who makes a comment about being fat just because you think she’s not isn’t helping either of you. In reality, you both feel the same way so why not help each other out. The important thing to realize is we are all real women, size 0 or size 24. Except for Ava from Ex Machina, she’s a robot. I’m not going to tell anyone to feel good about themselves or to stop wishing they were someone else because I know it’s not that easy, but at least please know that you’re not alone.