"Hungry" is not an attractive look on a woman...

Someone posted a picture today that really made me stop and think about perceptions and the definition of beauty. 

Now, let me pose a question. Who can really tell me something physically attractive about any one of the women in the top row?  By the way, it should be noted that the “fat one” in the top row, (2^nd from left) is Nicole Richie.  Now how scary is that? Wasn’t she getting torn apart in the press before giving birth to two children for being anorexic? Now, she’s not even the skinniest one “in the room.”   I’m not sure how a lot of you feel about it, but I certainly do not want my daughter emulating any of those four women.  They look sickly, malnourished…they look like they need to eat a damn bacon cheeseburger and a half gallon of Edy’s Double Fudge Brownie ice cream.  I don’t care if the camera puts ten pounds on you.  These women need to gain thirty pounds.

The bottom row of women…wow, now that is what women are supposed to look like – curvy, voluptuous, sensual, feminine.  Not one of them looks like, well, a boy.  They have hips and boobs, and they look HEALTHY.  I don’t know of one man in the world who would pick any of the women on the top row. My Bill calls women like that “bone racks” and would rather hug a tree than some underweight toothpick.  I love that about him, about all men really.  Men don’t set women up for the impossible.  Women do.

Think about it, who do women dress for?  Other women.  How many women live on a diet? I don’t know about you, but practically every woman I know is striving for “skinny” even though they won’t admit it. I’ve been guilty of this myself.  Then I realized what a poor example I was setting for my sweet impressionable daughter.  What exactly was wrong with the way I looked?  Nothing.  All I know is I would often compare myself to the woman on the front of the magazine cover who has been airbrushed to perfection, or I’d walk into a room and think to myself “Is she thinner than me?  Is my ass bigger than hers?”  Mistake.  And inevitably I end up seeing a photo of myself (because who isn’t snapping photo these days) and think to myself, “I look great. What the hell is my problem?”  No matter how perfect you strive to be, chances are there will be someone who seems “more perfect” whatever the hell that is.  Women are their own worst enemy.  Women live in an uber-competitive world where the most perfect woman wins, and the rest are left to feel inadequate. My friend told me about a conversation he had with a woman who stated “whenever I enter a room I have to be the hottest one there.”  What a sad existence.  What happened to being “the nicest” or “the most compassionate” or the woman with a heart so big, everyone is in awe of her? I refuse to do that to myself any more…NEVER AGAIN. My husband, my daughter, my friends, my family – they all love me just the way I am.  If I die tomorrow, what does it matter?  Are people going to walk by my coffin and say, “too bad she’s dead, because it’s the thinnest I’ve ever seen her.”  Not likely.  I HOPE they will think, “wow, she lived a wonderful life, and was an amazingly giving person.”  

Don’t get me wrong, I am no advocate for obesity, in fact I believe it is one of the biggest issues with the overall health of Americans.  What I am is an advocate for “healthy.”  News flash…skinny does not automatically equal healthy.  Ask Karen Carpenter about that one…oh wait, she’s dead thanks to anorexia…never mind.  Healthy means living your life in a way that promotes well being, both physically and mentally.  When you are healthy and happy on the inside, it always shows.  Beauty is rarely about physical appearance.  Beauty shines from within, and that is what makes a person beautiful.

Three cheers for the women bigger than a size two or four.  Say what you want about Kim Kardashian, Jennifer Lopez, or Christina Aguilera, and a few others that are in the public eye.  They make no apologies for their curves, and are, in fact, really quite happy with them.  I applaud them for not being bone thin, for being real about their bodies.  You want to be healthy? Live your life in MODERATION and strive to find your “happy place” within yourself.  I promise that if you can do that, you’ll find that the person looking back at you in the mirror will be one of the gorgeous women in the world, inside and out.

Please, stop being so hard on yourself, and learn to love who you are.

What's that sucking sound???

Recently while out and about one night, someone mentioned that she had liposuction on her waist and hips. I was surprised since she was already an very attractive woman with a knockout figure. Now I am certainly not one of those people who shuns cosmetic surgery, unless of course it is to the extreme and you start to resemble something out of Madam Trussard’s Wax Museum, or your skin is so tight, your eyebrows are hidden in your hairline. Indeed, I have been contemplating a little Restalyn or perhaps some Juvaderm for my upper lip which is starting to resemble that of a woman who has been smoking for 30 years (no idea why, I’ve never smoked in my life.) I’ve had breast reduction surgery and to this day, I can say without hesitation it was the best decision I ever made – not because I was worried about my back failing under the weight of my 38DD’s. I had it done purely for vanity's sake. Let’s face it, there is absolutely nothing attractive about breasts that enter a room before you do on a 5’3” frame. At least men will now look me in the eye. Alas though, poor Bill. I married a “boob” man, and now he’s got a wife with teeny tiny, albeit perky, boobs. He keeps threatening to buy them back for me. I keep telling him he needs to become a leg/ass man.

But liposuction? Liposuction is the one procedure that conjures up some really horrible images. I’ve talked to people who have had this procedure and apparently what happens over time is that the fat you had sucked off one part of your body will appear in another area entirely. This is not an urban legend, I swear. I have anecdotal evidence. So let’s say, for the sake of argument, that you have liposuction on your stomach. Does that mean you’ll eventually grow a butt as big as Kim Kardashian or Jennifer Lopez? Not like that’s a bad thing, mind you. I’d kill for J Lo’s rear end. But what if the fat comes back, let’s say, around your neck and you look like you have goiter for the rest of your life? I like scarves and all, but that would be a tough one to cover up. Or what if you have liposuction on your thighs and the fat comes back on your arms and your look like you have curtain valances instead of well-toned triceps? Worse yet, it comes back around your ankles and you then have the dreaded cankles for all eternity? Think about it, there are worse places to have a little “cushion” than around your fanny or your tummy. This fear of lipo has helped me to develop a happy and satisfied relationship with my “pooch.” And it has helped me develop an appreciation for a strategically-worn pair of Spanx under certain outfits.

It sucks to grow old for a lot of reasons, not all related to physical attractiveness… memory loss, eyesight issues, the inability to sneeze or laugh without wetting your pants are on the top of my list of complaints. Wrinkles? They definitely suck, and I work hard to ward them off by whatever method necessary. But you know what? Eventually they will come and you realize IT WILL BE OK. I don’t want to look like I’m 20 again. Hell, I still had acne at 20, so really, there is nothing even remotely enticing about that prospect. I’ll settle for looking ten years younger than my age and that is just fine with me. I’ll be forty-seven in February. Recently, a gentleman guessed my age to be in my late thirties. I was so elated I nearly kissed him right there on the spot. Really, what more could I ask for at this point in my life? And when I’m 60 and someone tells me I look 50? Hell, I’ll be REALLY happy about that. While 50 may seem a bit old now (it’s definitely closer than I wished), someday I will look back with great fondness and remember how young 50 really was.

The goal for this girl is to grow old gracefully, with dignity, and with a twinkle in my eye, and probably a cocktail in my hand. I’ll take a bit of help here and there and I will still work to “maintain the buffet”, but in the end, I want to appreciated not only for who I was years ago, but for who I am right here, right now. And that folks is the lesson in growing old. Time can either drag you along with it, kicking and screaming, or you can dance along side it, and enjoy every moment. I choose to dance.