Hello, there! I am me, a normal not-normal person.
The normal part is that I worry about my diet, shape and size.
The not-normal part is that I wonder why it matters and why people hold themselves at such utterly unreachable standards.
Usually, most people just accept that they are ugly, and that`s the end of it.
“What the Hell?!” My brain screams. “Why is this so normal??!”
And then I look at society, and think, “Oooh. Okay. That makes sense.”
You see, we are an idealist crowd, we humans. We believe in equality and free speech and perfect bodies filled with lots of perfect little thoughts.
And then there is reality.
It hits us like a blow in the stomach, and all our beautiful idealist plans go cr a s h and shatter on the floor.
And we realize, ‘Oh! What I want can never happen! I am worthless and entirely stupid because I was wrong.’
Well, yes, we were wrong. We are wrong. We will be wrong.
That is reality.
…
You know, when you really think about it, reality isn`t so bad.
It isn`t so bad to not be able to get any thinner, because if you do so, you will die.
It isn`t so bad to not have muscles everywhere you look and everywhere you don`t.
It isn`t so bad to worship washboard stomaches and corset waists religiously, and then suddenly realize that you…
…don`t want them anymore.
And why? Why does it matter to you no longer?
Why? Because you have grown; and as I get older, and find out a lot of nice and terrible things, I realize that any smart person`s beliefs grow as they grow and change as they change.
Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.
But still, we change. We do not live underwater and blow bubbles out of our mouthes, forever wondering why we aren`t walking on land, though we weren`t born with fins.
We find different words to label ourselves. We choose different boxes for our thoughts. We pick definitions, saying that these definitions make us original, that they give us an individuality that we never had before.
We put labels on others, thinking that we are doing the right thing.
…
We are wrong again.
We use words like Autistic, Feminist, Stupid, ADHD, Beautiful, Thin, Obese, Transgender, Perfect.
Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.
We hide in those labels.
We live for those labels.
Some realize that they are themselves without them, without their names, without their clothes, without their words. Some do.
Others don`t, and stay inside their boxes, clinging to them, terrified of the world outside the walls.
They think that their box is their sanctuary, when in reality, it is their prison.
We all have one.
Chris Pine has one. Jewel Kilcher has one. Walt Whitman had one. Sia Furler has one. George Washington had one. Carol Burnett has one.
I have one.
I may not realize it yet, but my box is very much alive.
It is real, feeding off of some stupid insecurity or instability of some kind.
And I think that I am better off because of it. And I have no idea what that box is doing to my person.
It`s living off of me like a parasite.
…
Walking alongside me. Making my successes worthless and my failures all the worse for it.
And the only visible mark it leaves,
Is my tiny, tiny waist.
And the only thing that makes me different from everybody else, is that I know that.
Do you?
…
