More Than Appearances

Responding to "A Woman's Worth" by Javacia N. Harris.

(page 64) "I'm not advocating that women ignore or hide their bodies. A woman's feeling good about her body and learning to enjoy it can only help her in the journey toward a healthy and satisfying sexual life."

The magazines regularly edit models and celebrities to depict bodies impossible to achieve in nature. Teeth are whiter than the most bleached ones out there. Absolutely no fly away hairs. Blemishes are nonexistent, and skin tone is magnificently even. I guess we're all supposed to be plastic mannequins, both thoroughly anorexic but somehow curvy, and then we'll all be perfect and happy.

Is it any wonder that even the highest paid, most fabulous supermodel may be completely insecure about her looks? No one can ever measure up.

Like many, if not most, American women, I often feel unpretty. I have stretch marks, mommy breasts, and a slighted rounded belly. I'm also practically anorexic. I shock people when I admit my weight, because they always forget to take my height and "childbearing" hips into account. Yet I fear I'm fat. I constantly get carded, yet I fear I may look old.

The impossibility of American beauty "standards" (perhaps fantasy is a better word) makes me want to hide beneath overly-large t-shirts and jeans. I feel ugly far more often than I'd like to admit.

(page 64) "My focus shifted from what my body looked like to what it could do, and I finally felt fabulous."

It's not always easy to focus on what my body can do, especially once I derail myself by spotting my flaws. But once I get started, I can accomplish many things with my body. My hands produce art. My arms hold and comfort my children. My feet can walk forever and not give up.

And while I may not always like the way my body looks, I love the way that it feels. My hair is soft. My nails are strong. My skin is soft, smooth, and velvety. My joints are very flexible, allowing me to move in surprising ways.

I'm not so hung up on my body that I can't enjoy myself in the light while I'm nude. The occasional acne or ingrown hair (aka blemishes) sometimes make me long for the dark, but that's fairly rare.

(page 64) "I have fun when I dance because I am enjoying my body, not putting it on display for someone else's pleasure."

Whenever I do stop worrying about how I look, relax, and have fun, I seem to draw attention from the male gaze. Supposedly, it's quite complimentary (according to men, at least), but I got over being told I'm cute a long time ago, about the same time I got over catcalls and guys honking and yelling when I happened to be out and about walking. Now it's just obnoxious. I'm more than eye-candy, and I prefer to be complimented on my accomplishments, not my face and body. Beauty fades and standards (fantasies) change.

My body is amazing, and that's what I need to remember. I'm not a mannequin. I'm not plastic. I'm flesh and blood, and I love it.