Women’s Writes: How the ‘ideal woman’ makes me feel.

Today is Women’s Writes day!  Since this is a blog for all of us to share our struggles with weight and body image and dieting, I asked a few of my buddies to spend a couple of paragraphs answering  the question:  How has the image of the ‘ideal woman’ in society and the media affected my actions and choices throughout my life?

Natalie Cottrell writes:

I was fortunate enough to have been introduced to brilliant writers like Gloria Steinem (Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions), Jean Kilbourne, (Deadly Persuasion, Killing Us Softly) and Naomi Wolf (The Beauty Myth) at an early age. Their books and presentations were (and still are) invaluable in helping women understand how they are portrayed and marginalized in society and the media. Having this understanding gave me a tremendous advantage in feeling my way through life, acknowledging that most people (men especially) would either value my looks or my brains, but not both. I spent the bulk of my educational career fighting to prove my smarts, convinced that that my appearance was not only unimportant, but antithetical to my attempts at proving I was an intelligent woman.

It is ironic, really, that I now make a living as an actress and print model. I spend the bulk of my time ensuring that my skin is clear, my figure is slim, and my hair is shiny. I can’t even begin to describe the identity crisis I experienced when I dropped out of grad school and left my challenging position at a surgeon’s office to play pretty puppet all day. (I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not as easy as it looks. But, seriously.) In my efforts to radiate the visage of an “ideal woman” in the course of my acting/modeling career, I’ve realized that truly being an amazing woman lies somewhere in between: possessing the smarts to understand the world around you, and the confidence in what you exude to forage your own path in that world…whatever that means to you.

** Natalie makes her living as an actress and model in Dallas, Texas.

Marie writes:

Plastered in magazines, advertisements, television, almost anywhere we turn, unblemished slim images are everywhere. This is nothing new, but something I’ve always known since I was a young girl, even thinking that when I grew into a woman, my body and face would have to be like those images I saw in my teeny-bopper magazines.

But when I didn’t grow past 5’2”, when I found my nose too big for my face, when I looked into the mirror and saw a somewhat plump gap toothed young looking girl – even though I was well into my late teens, early 20’s – I began to severely dislike that image. I came close to hating myself all because I couldn’t look like a photoshoped picture.

Detesting myself based on my looks broke down some of the confidence I had in myself. I came to a point – somewhere in my mid-20s – where I realized I was digging a hole for yours truly. I had to do something to stop the cycle. I turned back to the mirror and looked long and hard over a long period of time. To love others has always come naturally, but to love myself? That was a challenge. I started to see myself for who I am – quirky, childish, smart (yeah, smart), caring – and slowly embraced my characteristics. The petiteness? Improves feistiness. The big nose? Gives character. The gap between the teeth? Makes me slightly unique.

I’m not perfect, but I am me – real and un-photoshoped. And most of the time when I look at that girl in mirror now, I smile.

**Marie works in communications at a non-profit in the Washington DC Metro area.

Rachel writes:

I used to be so hot. When I was 16, I had the best body. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time and only now, 10 years and who knows how many weight fluctuations later, do I appreciate the awesomeness that was my body. I was not even close to 110 lbs., I had a bit of a tummy, and I had what I lovingly referred to as thunder thighs. But I was a swimmer – I had amazing, strong shoulders, and a back that you could play chess on: hard and broad and gorgeous. My thighs were big but they were muscular, and I couldn’t wear boots because my calves were too thick with muscle as well. What I wouldn’t do for that body now? I was an athlete and you could tell just by looking at me that I was strong and healthy, tummy and all.

But I, like all American women, grew up believing that the ideal standard of beauty was thin and lithe and that muscles were masculine and unsexy.  I hated looking in the mirror because, in the late 90s and early 00s, Gwyneth in all her “fat skinny” glory was the standard we were supposed to live up to. I was constantly comparing myself to my classmates who were super-thin, but who also ate fast food like it was their jobs. I was so jealous that they could eat that way and stay a size 2. I was watching my diet and swimming several hours a day, and still felt enormous in comparison. I should have taken a step back and realized what I knew in my heart during the hours I spent in the water: that I was powerful and strong and confident and sexy. Most people feel self-conscious in a swimsuit, but in my Speedo, I could’ve cared less about what the “ideal standard of beauty” was. I was gorgeous.

**Rachel is an editor in the Washington DC Metro area.

Shine writes:

It’s been a long time since I’ve been a skinny girl.  I grew up dancing, so the fight to stay skinny was an everyday thing.  I don’t think I’ve ever had one day when I didn’t feel fat.  When I didn’t feel self-conscious about my body.  When I didn’t worry about covering my stomach or trying to hide my chubby cheeks.  I worried about it when my stomach was flat and when my cheeks were…well, they’ve always been chubby.  Now I look back on those days with a wistful longing.  I wish I could go back and find that girl and give her a hug.  I want to tell her that she’s beautiful.  That she’ll always BE beautiful, no matter what the scale says.  No matter what number can be found in her jeans.  I’d also like to tell her to skip the French fries.

What?  If’n I’m going back in time, I might as well be a little healthier when I come back.

From the age of 0, as little girls, we’re taught that thin is the only thing that’s beautiful.  That you must be thin for someone to love you.  That you must be thin for you to love yourself.  The media bombards us with airbrushed, re-touched, fake images of skinny women with perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect teeth, and perfect clothes.  “If you don’t look like this,” they scream from their glossy covers, “no one will ever think you’re worth anything.”  And we believe them.  We fight and we starve and we exercise and we tan and we cleanse and we make-up.  We never stop to think that the people who are telling us these things?  Are in the business of making money.  They don’t really care what we look like.  They certainly don’t care how we feel.  Women have become the product AND the consumer.  It’s a dangerous and vicious cycle.  The next time you’re thinking about starving yourself or taking the latest diet pill, stop for a second and contemplate who’s telling you that you need it.

**Shine works as an archaeologist in Dallas, Texas.

Tagged as: battling the bulge, being healthier, getting sexy, ideal standards, the mirror