"Like a Girl"

Growing up with three brothers made it fairly evident that there were many things that I could not do, simply because I wasn't as strong as them. I wasn't as good at wrestling, for instance, or other things that required a lot of upper body strength. I remember, after an argument with one of my brothers, I punched him between the legs as hard as I could. After a pause in which he utterly failed to collapse, I ran and hid behind mom because even though I obviously hadn't hurt him, I had rather ticked him off.

I remember being told that I did things "like a girl" with the phrase being said in a tone that indicated the speaker's derision. In P.E. in sixth grade, we were idly tossing baseballs one day while waiting on our coach to give us instructions. I threw the ball as best as I knew how (I have never had much experience throwing balls - my milieu was kicking them. In soccer!) and one of the girls in our class called out, "Geez, you throw like a GIRL!"

I was humiliated.

And why? I AM a girl. Yet I was taught, by my interactions with my family and the people around me, that I was less than.

And damn it, it still pisses me off!

I'm grateful that there are campaigns like the Always one (link below) that is striving to teach us girls to remember our power, our WORTH! I encourage you to watch: When Did "Like a Girl" Become an Insult? 

Don't shame someone for being what they are. It's like telling a door that it's dumb because it's a door and doesn't turn on like a lamp does. The function is completely different.

All rights to Always for their ad. And THANK YOU, Always!!

To Bikini or Not to Bikini?

I read a blog earlier today about why one woman wears a bikini even though she doesn't have what society would deem a "bikini body". It was titled, "I Wear a Bikini Because...F*ck You" (read it here).

It seems that body image is a real hot button these days, and I have to admit that I am not someone with a load of self-esteem when it comes to my body. But after reading this blog and watching a plus-sized pole dancer win 4 "yeses" on Britain's Got Talent (click here to watch) I am beginning to think that I shouldn't have such a bad body-image.

Beside the blog I mentioned above was a series of photos of "Body Image Heroes." Two stood out. One because she was the thinnest woman there, and she was saying that it isn't a bad thing to be born with that type of body, anymore than it would be to be born with a voluptuous body. The other one was of Beth Ditto, a singer whom I must admit, I've never heard of before. She spoke to The Advocate, and they quoted her on this site. She said, "I have had a lifetime to adjust to seeing how people treat women who aren't their idea of beautiful and therefore aren't their idea of useful, and I had to find ways to become useful to myself."

And it struck me... Why are we, as women, judged as useful or not useful due to the body type we have?

When I was a preteen, I got a book of which I don't rightly remember the name. Inside was about what happens to girls when they go through puberty, what to expect, as well as what to wear, how to properly brush your hair, etc. Most of the information wasn't useful as I already knew it, but one image stuck out in my mind. On the page, there were three girls: one very thin, one svelte, and one voluptuous. The book suggested that the two smaller ones could wear whatever they wanted, but that the voluptuous one should lose some weight first before showing off her budding body.

At twelve (or thirteen - I can't remember exactly) I looked at myself in the full-length mirror I had in my room. My body type, though I was only a size 9 to 12 at 5'6", matched that of the largest girl in the book.

I felt a fist of ice hit my stomach. I couldn't wear "fun" clothes. I exercised already in gym (our girl's gym class had been doing aerobics) and I played soccer and ate decently.

But even so, I needed to lose weight.

I cannot describe how upset I was. I put the book down (I never picked it up again) and tried to put it out of my mind. But that stuck with me so that now, around fifteen years later, it is still a vivid memory; both the pink book that looked so hopeful on the outside, and the feeling of worthlessness that came after I read that section.

I never told anyone how that struck me before, but now that I think of it, my thoughts turn to "how dare they?" How could the writer say something in a book that was supposed to lift a preteen's self-esteem? What was the point of the book if it was only going to tell me that I wasn't good enough because my body wasn't the right type?

Not only was my worth as a female less than a male, but now my body wasn't good enough, either.

That's what I was taught, or at least what I took from my experiences.

And now? The last time I wore a bikini was in Galveston when I was 18. I was around 200 pounds then, single, and didn't give a shit what anyone thought. My grandparents, parents, an aunt and uncle, 2 cousins, and one of my brothers were all with me on this trip. I can't remember exactly who said it, but one of the women said something derogatory about me in the bikini. I said I didn't care.

But since then, I began to care. I started covering up my body, and as my self-esteem plummeted, my weight sky-rocketed.

And now that I'm quite a bit heavier than I was when I was eighteen, would I be caught in a bikini without a cover up?

I don't know.

But I'm going to start wearing one around the house to get used to the feel of air on my skin again.