Who’s the fairest of them all? The fittest? The slimmest? The smartest? We’re all obsessed to be the best at all and be on the top and sometimes on our way we lose focus, we lose who we really are until one day we wake up, looking into the mirror without having any idea who the person is who is looking back at us, and all we see is the other person ugly, worthless and empty. It may not happen to everyone but it definitely happened to me and waking up like that, feeling unworthy I started to believe it. I don’t remember when it happened. I think I was very young and although I tried to be my friend I failed from time to time until these demons took me over and I was lost.
It’s like when you lose someone, someone who is close to you, someone you care for and when they’re gone there’s nothing left just the emptyness and you start lamenting what else you should have changed, all the things you hadn’t told them, the things you had no opportunity to show, and the things you told them. Losing yourself is somewhat similar. The same emptyness and the realisation what you should do differently if you had another chance.
As long as you’re alive you have a chance to change things and do it differently, to make decisions, to make a decision to live, to accept yourself and to change things you don’t like.
It’s important to set up realistic targets in life. It doesn’t matter if we’re talking about diet, career, money, etc, being realistic is important. I don’t say to give all your dreams up but get to know yourself and know what you’re capable of. I’d love to be a multimillionaire, driving Maseratis, having a private jet and countless properties all over the world. I have three options to make it: I’d either be a very successful enterpreneur, a lotto millionaire or a very succesful bank-robber. Chances are for being any them highly unlikely. I don’t really have to explain the lotto millionaire option although I try it every once in a while. I’m not an enterpreneur type, I work for others, I’m support-material at work, staying in the background and helping others. Reasons for that are currently unknown and maybe one day when I come to terms with me as a whole person I change or I understand it. Bank robber? Come on! I’d be the most disastorous and hilarious bankrobber ever on the world so I wouldn’t do that. So I might be able to reach a high position and earn enough to have a pretty decent life without private jets, Maseratis and countless properties. So for me setting up being a multimillionaire is not a realistic target.
It’s the same thing with diet as well and your body image you see in the mirror. You can very easy slip into the deep hole of trying to be slimmer and slimmer until you waste yourself away. There’s a big difference of being slim or being healthy. I chose to be healthy and I know my size (and weight) is not a healthy one. Not everyone is born to be a supermodel. You have to realise what your body type is and have a healthy image of yourself. Depending on your height and bone structure (still, my interpretation and not scientific studies at all) I think the ideal size is between UK 8-14. I prefer to measure myself in dress sizes than actual kilos (or stones and pounds which system is still a gibberish for me… :S) because I think your actual weight also depends on the weight of your bones, the muscles, etc. and it also depends on your height too. So I stick to the dress sizes. My target is size 12-14. I think that’s ideal for my body type and the way how my body is built. It’s not because I couldn’t be size 8 or 6 but that’s not my body type. I accept that I’ll never be super-skinny. I’d love to have a Gisele Bundchen, Tara Stiles or Victoria Beckham but my bone sturcture is not somewhat bird-like. I’d love to have long neck as well and be at least 5 centimeters taller. It’s not me. I can wear heels, I can wear low cut tops to make my neck look longer but bottom line I still don’t have a longer neck or longer legs. But I accept it because it’s me and it’s not something I can change.
Also my left eye is smaller than the right one.
I know there are cosmetic surgeries to change all your feature but then it’s creating a fake version of you. Using make ups and flattering dresses that direct the attention to the right places is somewhat fake and illusion but it’ll be easily reverted and the truth can be revealed for those you truly trust. One day I might reach that level of confidence that I feel good in my own body without putting make up on me (which I have to use because my facial skin is so far away from being presentable) which gives me confidence now.
I might be obsessed with beauty? The last sentences I just wrote made me realise I might be obsessed with beauty as well. It’s so over all over us. There’s a great campaing which is about focusing on real values and not being so obsessed with being beautiful. http://www.stopthebeautymadness.com/campaign-ads/
It shows different people with different body shapes, age and ideas. The one thing common in them they’re all seen via the glass of beauty, the way how women are treated in the present. It’s scary but there are a few images I’d like to share (they are all available on the above link with the campaign details as well), the ones that touched me the most:
The truth is, the way how I see if you are pretty you get everything you want. You get higher salary, better guys, more money, special treatment, etc. There are women who live with this advantage while others who don’t have these special set of ‘skills’ just have to accept they have to work harder, be faster, be smarter to have the same things ‘The Pretty’ get so easily. Obviously it’s a stereotype but most of the times that’s how it works and I’m not sure I wouldn’t do the same if I were very pretty.
The next image touched me a lot. I was bullied as a child. I was literally kicked by some bullies because I was fat and not the skinny stereotype. As years passed and we became older our relationships became more mature and I was no longer bullied yet the scars remained. I remember very well and I can’t forget it. The humiliation I felt. Feeling being an outcast. The only thing I could do, the only weapon I had was to toughen up and hide how much it hurt. I kept studying, being helpful, hiding behind my walls hoping the thicker my walls are the less I’d feel the pain they cause. I managed to build these walls so high that I couldn’t bring them down again. They’re still there. The scars are there and I have to protect them. That’s the hardest thing to step outside my walls risking being hurt again and again. Everyone is reacting differently. There are children and grown ups because they can’t deal with bullies. I was lucky to have a tough dad who made me strong when I need to be and I always need to be. Now I try to accept I can be weak. It took me years to ask for help because help is weak but now I’m on a stage where I can easily admit I need help with something if I can’t deal with it. But those scars… They keep remindig me who I was, what I was and how long I travelled so far.
The last one is about the worth of a woman. The worth of me. I either chose the wrong guys or that’s really how the world works but that’s what experienced most of the times. The reason why I’m called beautiful is to get into my pants, well, get me out of my pants. Does it really matter who I am and what I’m worth inside if people are only interested in me for an hour? The fact is many men just treat women as a sexual toy, just use us to have pleasure and then it’s all gone. It’s our fault as well, my fault that I’m willing to accept these terms and I’m willing to get into this game. I feel the pressure and I feel if I don’t do this I just isolate myself from the society and I doom myself to be lonely. However it brings the question if I want to be a part of this society that just degrades my values to a low level measuring my worth on my sexual habits.
I might be idealistic but I know for sure I don’t want my children to be bullied if they are overweight or pretty or not pretty. I don’t want to have them the scars I carry for a lifetime. I want them to know how much they worth, how much they are really worth on a scale of real values’ measures and not on society’s level.