Sparksummit.com posted an amazing blog about the irony of a recent Cosmo cover. In a nutshell: Demi Lovato is recovering from an eating disorder and other self-harm behaviors. She has used her celebrity to speak out about eating disorders. Cosmo, in turn, severely photoshopped her cover photo.
You know that weight I dropped after delivering Fiona? The freakish amount I blogged about in a previous entry? The weight loss that everyone commented on positively?
I hadn’t weighed that little since I was sick. I only knew this because I fit into clothes I hadn’t dared to try on since then, such as dresses I couldn’t let go of for sentimental reasons.
So, what that comes down to is –
Everyone told me I looked good at the weight I don’t get my period at.
Now THAT is fucked up.
Now don’t get me wrong – I don’t judge the people who complimented me – I blame society. There were several times in history when Rubenesque women were believed to be the highest standard of beauty. We forget that, in this angular, both-ends-of-the-extreme, carb-obsessed world we live in.
So, if we are to take my personal example, society endorses a woman’s beauty when she is at the weight where she is unable to reproduce.
Is this is end of feminism?
No, really – what this says to me is that we are rejecting a woman when she is healthy enough to do the thing most unique and miraculous about being a woman (in some opinions); bearing children.
And if you want to take it a step further, society is rejecting reproduction, thus, the end of society.
You may laugh, you may think my analysis overdone, but I know better.
I once heard at a self-help group, “When I look the best on the outside I’m usually doing the worst on the inside.” How true.
When I am not eating, or conversely binging on pastries, when I am not exercising because I’m stressed out by motherhood, when I am forgetting to take my vitamins because I’ve let my self-care go to shit, when I am not connecting to people and isolating, that is when people tell me I look good. Is it the circles under my eyes that make me look sexier? Is it the way my clothes droop off me because none of them fit me anymore? Is it the fact that I don’t get my period and am basically androgynous now? Or is it my hair that’s falling out at a rapid clip? Tell me which one.
When I am taking my vitamins, eating my daily breakfast of peanut butter oatmeal to keep my cholesterol down, when I am eating three meals and three snacks a day, when I am exercising regularly – that is when nobody comments on my weight because it is simply and humbly normal, a weight that rests between bone-thin and overweight. It doesn’t look spectacular in a swimsuit, but it doesn’t look half bad in an evening gown either. It’s so in-between it’s almost mundane. Maybe that’s what our problem is. We’re all afraid of not standing out, of being just another worker among workers. We don’t have the courage to be normal.