There’s nothing more annoying than a woman with low self- esteem. Whether they’re making comments about feeling fat or comparing themselves to every other female in the room, confidence seems to be non-existent in my peer group. Why can’t they just get over it and move on? Life is too short to be worried about “bad” hair days or perfectly manicured nails. Who cares? I mean am I right or am I right? Who are these women? Oh, right. It’s me. Every woman feels self-conscience about her body at one point or another. We can’t help it. It’s embedded in our DNA. D-N-Absolutely hate your body. Luckily, we have beauty magazines to help us feel better about ourselves. WRONG AGAIN. When was the last time you picked up a Shape magazine and saw a hot young actress on the cover with six pack abs and said,“ Wow, she looks great and so do I!” Yeah, didn’t think so. No worries though, because I am here to break it down. Break it down? Yes, break it down. I have decided to tell the world about all of my insecurities and flaws in hopes that it will inspire other women to take a deep breath and reboot. Here goes nothing. Let’s start with my face. Growing up I was teased relentlessly for my huge lips. I would come home from school everyday crying. I even consider a lip reduction. I’m not 100% sure those even exist! Flash-forward twelve years later, I’ve never received more praise for these lips in my life.
Women, men and babies who don’t even speak yet are constantly complimenting me on my pout. Ironically, in Los Angeles the most common plastic surgery next to breast enhancement is lip injections. If only my class bullies could see me now! Hey, y’all! Moving on, I have always had a shapely belly. I call it my faux three -month pregnant belly. I’ve tried everything from sit-ups to sit downs, crunches and my personal favorite the ever so subtle sucking-it-in method…nothing works. Most days it really gets me down because I want so bad to be apart of that “crop-top life”, but my first trimester always gets in the way. I know you can’t chose where you gain weight, but if I could I would tell that infant to take a pit stop around my breast. It’s been starving for years. I am a not a very vertically blessed woman, meaning I’m kind of short for my age. This is why gravity is pulling on my legs creating the ever so popular thunder thighs. I’ll admit it was fun to have your own bongos for legs in high school, (impromptu jam sessions were all the rage my senior year), but it’s not as enjoyable now. I particularly dislike how they rub together when I walk, like they’re dating or something. Everyone in my family has full legs and while it looks good on them because they are all six feet tall, my five foot five inch frame looks disproportioned. Good thing my favorite dinosaur is T-REX; otherwise I might really have a complex about this. Lastly, I hate my stretch marks. They literally are the bane of my existence.
I hate them because their located right on my outer hips where all the good bathing suits ride. The upside is, I do have a pretty nice sarong collection now. I use to come up with pretty vivid explanations for my stretch marks. No one’s going to the judge the girl who survived the San Diego Zoo Escaped Lion Massacre. It just doesn’t seem fair to me that a twenty-three year old, with no children, who attends church regularly, could be cursed with the mark of the beast. I’ve tried creams, lotions, scrubs, prayer, and just about every yellow color scheme imaginable. Still they remain. If only men were that reliable, maybe I wouldn’t be single. I have recently come to realize that I will never ever have the body I really want…like ever. Yes, I could exercise and diet and get plastic surgery, but the truth is the body I want will always belong to someone else. While I defiantly have my days of self-pity, for the most part I love and accept my body for the beautiful thumbprint it is. Unique only to me. It’s time we start embracing our lady flaws and make no excuses for them. Yes I have stretch marks and yes I have fat armpits, but that doesn’t make me the person I am. As long as my heart is pure and my soul is true, the outer shell can change or not change as much as it wants.
So relax girls, you’re not the only ones with body issues. In the words of the iconic philosopher Kayne West, “ We’re all self conscience I’m just the first to admit it”. So chin up, chest out and you better work!
Photo Credit: stevethepequin.blogspot.com
