One of my least favorite things to hear girls and women discuss is their appearance. It's not that it's boring (although sometimes it is), and it's not that it revolts me (although sometimes it does), but ladies, sometimes what you say is just plain depressing.
"I need to lose five pounds."
"I wish I had her body."
"I'd be happy if I was taller."
And the question I can never get an answer to is "Why?"
What a lot of movies, TV shows, magazines, etc., all like to say is that it's the size and shape of a few choice body parts that defines beauty. To an extent I guess they're right - no one ever faulted anyone for having nice legs - but to say that's the entire package is a gross understatement. It's not just what a woman has that makes her; it's how she carries it.
I'm reminded of a girl I know. Once upon a time, we (I) called her "The Pretty Face Girl" because she had a very nice-but-average body but did have two things that made her exceptional: she was a very sweet, very fun girl, and she had possibly the most beautiful face we (I) had ever seen in the flesh.
There were a lot of women out there with better physiques than this girl. There were narrower hips, there were flatter stomachs, there were bigger busts. But those girls couldn't do what the Pretty Face Girl could do. They couldn't capture us they way she could. Couldn't light up a room with a smile or hypnotize you with those big brown eyes. Through her we (I) realized that "it" is all there in a woman's face. Her appeal. Her beauty. Her magic powers, so to speak.
At some point the Pretty Face Girl decided it was time for a change and we watched her morph away from the girl we were all so wild about and into the girl that everyone just wanted a piece of. She lost a considerable amount of weight, got her hair highlighted, started dressing more provocatively. More an emphasis on sex appeal, less an emphasis on being just the Pretty Face Girl.
Not worse, of course. Just different. Her body was hers and it's not like anyone was complaining about this brave, bold, alluring new girl.
The sad part was that it took all that work for her to realize what she had. She'd been given the gift of unrivalled natural beauty and didn't even know it, instead deciding that she needed to fit into a certain size skirt before she could be at peace with her body, her image. What she didn't know was that the gym and the makeup and the clothes didn't make her someone else, they were just sideshows. Accessories.
I saw her a couple weeks ago and she still looks great. I'm as big a fan of metamorphosis stories as anyone else, but with her it's not the same. She wanted to be something different and in a way, both comically and tragically, she never knew that there was no reason to change in the first place.
Perhaps we (I) should've spoken up sooner. Not to change her mind or anything like that; I just think more people should know what they have going for them.
Such a shame that major media outlets and nervous twenty-something boys aren't doing a better job of that.