To Write Love on Her Arms....

An EXTRAORDINARY organization. Please take the time to visit the site this week in honor of National Suicide Prevention Week 2012, if you can.  The link below will take you there.


To Write Love on Her Arms

Real Beauty "Evolution" Response....

After my last post I was bothered by the fact that I was yet again, posting something that was really only relevant to females. I'm a woman, I write what I know as they say, and as indicated by more recent posts, I don't currently have the time and emotional wherewithal  necessary to cover all that I still eventually hope to when it comes to true beauty, ridiculous societal ideals, and how we so often (myself included) buy into the latter due to poor self-image. But a lot of my lengthier posts, despite speaking from a woman's point of view, were (I believe) relevant to men as well, with something positive that could be taken away by the reader regardless of gender. That said, making my last post female specific was nagging at me for some reason, and it caused me to recall a video I came across several months ago. I was - you guessed it - quite busy at the time, so I shared it with my boyfriend, bookmarked it, and vowed to post it as soon as possible. I want to say that was March...it's now September. 

Many of you are familiar with the brilliant "Evolution" commercial made famous by the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty. I even shared it on this blog a while back. This is a personal response from a young man who chose the very same topic for his thesis, only this time he focused on how much of that pressure to be perfect is put on men, and how often society on the whole, sweeps it under the rug and pretends like it doesn't exist. His explanation at the top of video is far better than anything I could offer, so I'll let it speak for itself.


For the record, I do sincerely hope to get back to including as many different voices into this blog as I can. I realize now how "spoiled" I was with my access to outspoken, diverse, truly beautiful individuals while living in NYC. They live here too (!), don't get me wrong - I know because I'm fortunate enough to know a few of them already - but doing an interview is a whole other ball game, mainly because there's no subway to hop on at all hours of the day and night! At any rate, I hope to have that opportunity sooner rather than later, and I can't wait to share those voices with you when I do. In the meantime, if you have anything to share, please don't be shy in shooting me an email and expressing yourself. I still have a few emails starred in my inbox from those of you who were so kind and generous enough to share your thoughts and future blog contributions with me. I haven't forgotten about you, and I will post them for sure. In the meantime, please take a few minutes to watch the video below. This is not an easy thing to talk about, especially among men, so I applaud not only the young man who was courageous enough to bring this to the forefront through his thesis, but also those who are not ashamed to watch, understand, and learn to love themselves as they are.

No Doubt....

"Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother."

                                                      -Kahlil Gibran 

Trust who you are. Believe in what you have to offer. And please, please don't let anything or anyone cause your self-worth to waiver.

Newsworthy Part One....

I'm sure most of you have read about or seen television reports regarding these notable body image themed headlines by now, but just in case you haven't, I really, REALLY think they both have a lot to say. The first is regarding a young ballet dancer from Maine who managed to get Seventeen magazine to agree to keep from altering body shapes when using Photoshop via an online petition through Change.org. What I found most interesting is that I was sent two different articles about this triumph, and while both positive, one had a much more idealistic view of the "body peace treaty", and the other was anything but shy about continuing to put Seventeen and other similar magazines in the hot seat for failing to admit that they have, in fact, manipulated many images that have contributed to countless young women's obsessions with perfection, and by simply acknowledging that this "Photoshop Lite" approach, while very significant, is also quite small when looking honestly at how much needs to change about our culture's views on appearance and beauty. I've chosen to post a link to latter of the two articles because...well, I'm as willful as they come and I applaud these girls and women who refuse to stop until we all find a way to be at peace with our bodies. "Thank you" seems like an understatement.



http://www.csmonitor.com/The-Culture/Family/2012/0709/Seventeen-magazine-promises-to-stop-manipulating-photos-of-models


P.S. A very special thank you to Maile for passing these along to me and continuing to keep me hopeful and inspired. Stay tuned for Part Two....

Lynda's Dancin' In Your Drawers Recommendations....

As the big day for Lynda is only a few short days away, I figured I'd better hurry up and post the last of her favorite undie dancing songs before the festivities of "wedding weekend" begin. I've really enjoyed posting these fun,silly little tributes to one of the dearest friends I've ever had. Whether this music has suited your taste or not, I hope you can appreciate the beauty of Lynda's lighthearted openness in sharing songs that help her to feel happy and confident when she cuts loose and embraces herself inside and out....and I sincerely hope you'll log into your iTunes library and start your own playlist to help you do the same.


Lynda Recommends :

#8 Lionel Richie: "All Night Long"-  "Such a cheerful song! Also, it reminds me of the beach for some strange reason."

#9 Journey: " Any Way You Want It"- "I just love Journey!"

Lynda's Dancin' In Your Drawers Recommendations...

It's Friday! I'm sure some of you are working all weekend (like me), but in a few hours it will be Friday night to the rest of the world. As Lynda's list of favorite undie dancing tunes begins to wind down, here's a song appropriate for celebrating the weekend and getting rid of the negativity from the work week while you boogie-oogie-oogie in the privacy of your home.

Lynda recommends :

 #7 Taste of Honey: "Boogie Oogie Oogie"-  "Makes me wish I was at Studio 54 dancing around in Candies high heels and a Diane Von Furstenberg wrap dress. Yay!"

Lynda's Dancin' In Your Drawers Recommendations....

Since I missed two days of posting, you get double the undie dancing tunes from Lynda today...Enjoy!



Lynda recommends : 




#5 "What Is Love": Haddaway- "Who doesn't dance around to this song in private?" 

 #6 Pointer  Sisters: "Automatic"- "The best Pointer Sister song ever!"

Lynda's Dancin' In Your Drawers Recommendations....

A double dose of recommendations to get your body movin' and your confidence up as you face the week ahead.


Lynda recommends :

#3 "All I Need Is A Miracle": Mike & The Mechanics-  "It's true... I do need a miracle. LMAO!"

#4" Do You Believe in Love?": Huey Lewis & The News- "I love the lyrics to this song.  And it's so easy to sing."

Lynda's Dancin' In Your Drawers Recommendations....

#2: Lynda Recommends - Promise of a New Day: Paula Abdul- "A good message and it reminds me of my youth."

Dancin' In Your Drawers : A Teaser... until next time.

I assure you that in the midst of the exciting hustle and bustle of all that goes into rebuilding my life, I am hard at work on putting together some more undie dancing posts....ones that actually involve all the awesome friends who took the time out of their own crazy schedules to share what letting their inhibitions go and feeling the music means to them personally! But in the meantime, I found this little article a while back while doing some "research" on this very topic and thought sharing it might be a fun way to offer a song for cutting loose on your own. It just so happens that the lead singer of a song that was a staple of my underwear dancing repertoire earlier this summer also likes to dance privately in less than normal clothing to boost her confidence when she needs it most. Here's a link to the article and here is a great song for going bananas in your skivvies. It may be a bit overplayed by now thanks to its radio friendliness, but don't let that stop you from letting the music set you free, if only for a few minutes. Until next time.....


Florence Welsh dances in underwear before shows

Dancin’ In Your Drawers – My Personal Motivation to Move It….

"It's also helpful to realize that this very body that we have, that's sitting here right now...with its aches and its pleasures...is exactly what we need to be fully human, fully awake, fully alive"  - Pema Chodron

                                                                                                                            

When I initially sent around an email to some female friends of mine, letting them know about this particular blogging idea and inquiring about their personal preferences for breaking it down in their underwear, the very first response I received was a from a good friend of mine who lives overseas. She replied very politely, always encouraging despite obvious wondering what in world I had up my sleeve, stating, “It's great that you are writing though I'm not sure how it connects to undies... I'm sure you will fill me in.”  Hopefully this blog entry will suffice.

Anyone who knows me can affirm that music has always been a vital part of my life. As much as I love many different media of creativity, music has always spoken to something inside of me that could never be put into words. Nothing makes me feel the way that music does. Sensitive soul that I am, it’s because of this that it has been and always will be one of the great loves of my life. I have been jumping and dancing around to music with wild abandon for as long as I can remember. Whether producing a full length musical with a cast of Cabbage Patch Kids in my bedroom – sets, props, standing ovation, all products of my imagination –or flailing about, grinning ear to ear on neighborhood porches or in friends’ playrooms until near exhaustion, few things were ever as enjoyable to me as letting go and letting that music move me. As I got older and eventually engrossed in my eating disorder as a teenager, my love for music was one of the only joys that remained intact. But while I could listen and feel with the best of them, my days of letting go and letting my body move were as distant as they could be.

Fast forward several years to my blossoming life as a new-ish resident of the Big Apple. Though recovered enough to properly nourish and care for my body in a physical sense, I was a far cry from having an even remotely positive thought about my physique unless it was hidden - masked by carefully selected clothing that would perfectly camouflage every single flaw it possessed. I was able to enjoy moving about to my favorite tunes from time to time, but it was never with the freedom of days past, always with a self-consciousness that could easily win a world title if there was a competition for such an awful feeling. Even the slightest glimpse of my body when getting out of the shower or changing my clothes caused me to cringe at that point. You can imagine that the idea of dancing in next to nothing was not something at the top of my to do list. That is until I came across a random article in a fitness magazine I had purchased for a quick yoga workout supposedly inside. This in and of itself was a rarity for me, as I often find such magazines geared towards women’s bodies to be triggering regarding thoughts of my self worth, and particularly body image. Nonetheless, something drew me to that magazine, and since I had spent my hard earned four dollars or so to purchase it, I figured I might as well give it a once over and see if there were any articles worth reading. While scanning the table of contents, one almost immediately jumped out at me, promising sure fire (and fun) ways to boost your body confidence in a matter of minutes. Of course, I assumed this claim would prove to be greatly exaggerated, but thought it still couldn’t hurt to give it a quick read.

At the mere thought of underwear dancing, a crystal clear mental image of the brightly colored, wonderfully creative graphics accompanying that article still pops into my mind’s eye, in which a stylish, funky, unique, and ultimately super confident young woman was having a grand time at some sort of semi-formal fete. Yes, it was only a sketched illustration, but her confidence was impossible to ignore. I wanted to find out how to put myself in her shoes, and so I began to read. I believe there were several steps or tips of things to do or tell yourself to boost your self image, but the only one that stuck with me was stripping down and dancing – as in all out, no holds barred dancing in nothing but a bra and panties, particularly before a social event or a date or really any situation that would be made better by self confidence at its maximum. I’m honestly not sure what it was about this idea at that particular point in time that compelled me to drop everything and give it a try. I know that I had some sort of social activity going on that evening, though I can’t recall exactly what it was, and I distinctly remember thinking about a few choice individuals and wanting to show them with everything in me, what Sara was truly made of when I embraced it. And so, I danced.  Not completely in my underwear – a bra and some capri pants, I believe- but still a decidedly bold move for someone who struggled with the slightest glimpse of her body if it wasn’t covered up…and one that left me feeling phenomenal. In those few minutes, I realized that it was impossible to be actively obsessing about my bodily imperfections when I was giving everything in me over to the music. I was able to let it go for those few moments in time, and because of that, when I caught a glimpse of those parts of my body that were exposed post dance, they no longer looked as bad as I thought they did. I felt surprisingly confident in that realization, and I’m certain it showed to those socializing with me that evening.

From that evening on, letting my inhibitions go and getting my groove on in little clothing became a regular and necessary part of my life. That’s one of the reasons this time last year was so difficult for me; I was too weak to let my troubles out through dance because of what my body was going through. I can’t tell you how many times I listened to my favorite dancing songs and imagined as hard as I could, how I would bounce around with all the energy in the world if I could. I hated my body more with every day because of its seeming refusal to function properly and look healthy, making my chances of ever feeling well enough to jump around and feel good about my it seem next to nil. And that’s why this topic is so important to me; I can dance again and it feels better than ever.

I’ll let you in on a little secret about all this underwear dancing I have done in my adult life: For the longest time I rarely felt comfortable enough in my own skin to dance in only underwear. It was always a bra and some sort of pants or leggings. I could make the excuse that I was simply more comfortable with pants on, but I want to be honest. It seems silly when the only one who would see me or know would be me, but that’s what hating your body, and sometimes even hating yourself can do to a person. I’m not entirely sure what the deciding factor was, but that all changed the first night I was officially staying in my new apartment, in my new hometown, with what often feels like a whole new lease on life. I had stayed overnight in my place a couple nights the week before, but this was the first night that I was officially “home”. I was walking around my furniture less living room, iTunes providing some pleasant background music when it just hit me. I was in my space –just me – and I was alive. I promptly checked all the blinds, stripped down to my bra and underwear (yes – just my panties!), picked an awesome tune, cranked up the volume and danced like a crazy woman. As the young folk like to say, it was epic. I hope you’ll find some time to do some crazy dancing of your own until next time. In that spirit, here’s the song I chose that night. Epic indeed.

Sparks Of Beauty : a reminder...a series of sharing the "little things" I find to be extraordinary.

       "Some beautiful things are more impressive when left 
         imperfect than when too highly finished." 
                                         - Francois de La Rochefoucauld

Every now and then I need a reminder. That’s one of the things I enjoy most about blogging; each time I remind the anonymous reader about the beauty that is available to all of us – and in all of us – I also remind myself. Most of the time this allows my self confidence and security to continue to develop, strengthen and even flourish…but not always. Sometimes I have a bad day, a bad week, a not so hot month. Life can be difficult, and as I’ve pointed out many times over the past few months, it’s really hard to think “Lemonade!” when a truckload of lemons are suddenly dumped on your head. For me, I’ve come to realize that my inner critic - or inner saboteur depending on how you look at it - relishes those times when I’m metaphorically swimming in lemons. Vulnerability sets in and that inner saboteur (aka the part of my mind that seems to specialize in negative thinking) starts talking. I turn difficulties inward and wonder if the faults I see are to blame. That inner monologue gets louder and harder to ignore. Suddenly I’m not good enough in any way. Not talented enough, not capable enough, not intelligent enough, not independent enough – you get the picture. And no matter how unrelated to my physicality those difficulties may be, having battled anorexia and a poor body image for so long makes it very easy for me to let every negative thought lead me back to a litany of flaws in my appearance. Anyone who has battled such issues during their lifetime would I’m sure, attest to the power such thoughts can have if you let them, and though I’m confident in my ability to truly take care of my body and not let that negativity dictate my behavior in nourishing it, I’m not nearly as secure when it comes to accepting myself in the face of that negativity.  It’s easy to preach self-acceptance and self- confidence when everything’s coming up roses, but when there seems to be a black cloud over my head – or at least over my mirror - it often feels next to impossible to practice what I preach when it comes to believing it about myself.

                                                                                                                                                                 
Enter my reminder. This one came to me via the AOL news page last weekend, wedged somewhere between the latest scandal involving those crazy Jersey Shore kids and a link to some recent photos of popular starlets walking the red carpet. Knowing that anyone and everyone can call themselves a blogger, I don’t feel wrong in saying that I did not have the highest hopes for the article I was about to read. My sensitivity to, and passion for the topic of body image usually set off a mental alarm, warning me that what I’m about to read, hear, see, may not be something that leads to positive body image thoughts, and in fact might trigger the opposite. Nonetheless, I was under the weather, stuck in my apartment for the weekend, dealing with some stressful situations, and ultimately hating my body, so I figured it couldn't hurt. One sentence in and I knew that I had made the right decision.

To say anything else would, I feel, take away from the essay itself. Quite frankly, I could have easily just posted a link to the article, as it needs no introduction in my opinion. But in keeping with the spirit of self acceptance and self confidence, I decided to force myself to sit down and write a few paragraphs, and I once again got a twofer in the realm of important reminders. What I’m offering to the reader, I’m also offering to myself, and it helps me to see that I am much less of all those negative things I mentioned, especially when I can inspire someone else to feel the same about themselves. I can’t help but feel that the author of this beautifully written piece was rewarded with much of the same. I hope that you’ll take a minute to read Ms. Smith’s essay, so you can feel that wonderful reward of self worth too. You deserve it.

Agi Smith : Every Woman's Body Has a Story and Here Is Mine...

Dancin' In Your Drawers....An Introduction

"Dance First. Think Later. It's the natural order."   - Samuel 

                                                                                          Beckett 

        

Don’t worry – my blog has not been hacked. And yes, you correctly read that post title. Welcome to the first installment of Dancin’ in Your Drawers, a little project that has been in the making for quite some time now, focused on the art form of flailing about to some good tunes in your underwear.  This may sound slightly silly to those who have never cranked up the iTunes and cut loose, but to those whom this is a regular part of their weekly routine, it will be crystal clear that this particular activity is often an essential ingredient in the recipe for a woman’s self- worth and confidence.

With that in mind, I’ve made sure to do my research. This will not be a series of posts focused only on my personal views and tales of undie dancing ; I have spent the last few months slowly gathering opinions from friends on everything from song choices to why and how they shake it in their skivvies…or in some cases, do not.  I will admit that I honed in on the female viewpoint, as this seems to be a practice more common in the feminine sex, but I certainly don’t mean to exclude any men that might be reading.  I can actually recall a comment from my former Facebook days in which a  male (married with a child) friend affirmed something to the effect of, “Men like to get down to some good tunes in their boxers and socks too!”.

 I am aware that our culture in particular has taken to sexualizing dancing in your underwear , and while that may be true in some women’s cases- this tends to be done in complete privacy, so I couldn’t possibly know - that’s definitely not the angle I’m going for with this project.  I’ve spent some time thinking about how to best explain this phenomenon to those who have yet to be enlightened , and it’s my belief that this little opening sequence from the 80’s “classic” Adventures in Babysitting might just do the trick.

 No, Elizabeth Shue is not in her underwear, but she (or the character, rather) is completely unhibited to the point that it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing. I think that should serve as enough of a teaser to get you to check back every so often and hopefully find some fun posts that will inspire you to let your hang-ups go, at least for the three minutes that it takes to play your favorite boogie song, and embrace all that you are.

 And men, for any of you reading and still thinking that this couldn’t possibly pertain to you, I offer another 80’s classic. I can’t speak for him, but it sure looks like Mr. Cruise is having a blast to me. Go on and try it. No one will know….and you might just enjoy yourself.

                                                                                                                                                    

ELIZABETH

* drawing by Elizabeth

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."

-Eleanor Roosevelt

They say that we alone are our harshest critics. I don't know who they are, but I definitely think they're onto something. Much of my blog thus far has been focused on our society's views regarding beauty. Almost always unattainable and often absurd, we are made to feel as if our entire self-worth should be based on how close we are to achieving such standards. A more than valid point that absolutely needs to be addressed. But given that one of my main goals with this project is to get people talking about their own personal views on beauty and its relationship to self-worth, I find it ironic that I've somehow managed to neglect just how much of our feelings on this very issue can be brought on almost completely by ourselves. A couple of posts touched on this aspect, but it took Elizabeth's responses to get me to realize that that's not something that is being addressed, or even admitted to, all that often. The majority of the interviews I've conducted have centered around the insecurities brought on by the people and circumstances around us. Virtually every insecurity seemed rooted in an outside source....until now.

Elizabeth has been a coworker of mine for a couple of years now, and it was actually my initial ideas that eventually surfaced as this blog, that got us talking a little more openly with one another. From our experience chatting and eventually becoming friends, I've become aware of her true individuality, as a human being and as a woman, marching to the beat of a drum that is uniquely her own. She has her own way of doing things and doesn't seem to give much thought as to whether you approve. She dresses in whatever intelligently whimsical way strikes her as appropriate, speaks freely when she feels a need to do so, carries out tasks the way she feels is best, and makes no apologies if you don't agree. This is simply who she is. But the interesting thing is that despite this confidence with regard to others, there is one person whose opinion matters more than anything, and that would be her own. I feel that she and I know each other well enough to admit that I noticed this tendency to have rather lofty expectations of herself, shortly after she joined my workplace - and quite frankly, it bothered me. In hindsight, I realize that the reason it bothered me had little to do with her, and much to do with how similar this behavior was to the unrealistic standards I so often set for myself. And how very much I hated to admit it.

It has been an ongoing struggle for me for as far back as I can recall. Case in point - my parents being summoned for a meeting with my elementary school principal, to discuss the unrealistic expectations of perfection they were placing on me. Imagine how they must have felt when my 7 year old self had to confess to both the principal and mommy and daddy, that it was all me. I was putting this pressure upon my myself because I pretty much felt like as much of a failure as a second grader can, every time I fell short of perfect. And of course, my battle with anorexia was teeming with so-called perfectionistic rituals. Comparisons with other anorexics were often nearly as anxiety ridden as the prospect of eating itself. I'll never forget how I felt that bitter cold February day in 1999, when the head of my medical team came into my hospital room and told me that there wasn't much else they could do, and I would probably die within two weeks. Instead of the incomprehensible fear and despair one would expect to accompany such a talking to, I was immediately on the defensive, thinking that I was finally becoming one of the best anorexics, and that he was simply trying to trick me into gaining weight and becoming average again. Yes, much of that was my illness talking, but I can't help but feel that there was a big chunk of my true self in that thought as well. To this day, I feel that that is the reason why I am so sensitive to the need to control, the need to be better than expected - because deep down, I'm aware that it's that so-called control that nearly killed me and has left me continually struggling with physical repercussions and health issues that I probably wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

But the interesting thing about observing Elizabeth and getting to know her better, is that I've seen that tendency in her change. Where I feel my recent struggles have perhaps led me back towards a greater desire for control, I have noticed a subtle, but definite change in her. That nagging drive to be " better", that she has so eloquently written about in the Question & Answer below, has slowly morphed into a true sense of self-confidence. From my view as a somewhat objective observer, it seems that in the process of recognizing and accepting those driving desires, she has developed an ease with which she approaches the same situations - still very much wanting to be quite exceptional at the task at hand, but recognizing - this is who I am , and I'm gonna do what I can do and see what happens. That ease has not only been refreshing to witness, but it has also been a comfort and a gentle reminder to me, that it might serve me well to practice the same.

Perhaps one could assume that Elizabeth's choice to write out her answers - as opposed to a tape recorded interview - and to use a sketched self-portrait, rather than a photo to go with it, might be an extension of that need for some sort of controlled perfection. But in actuality, this particular topic is one that resonates very deeply with her, and I feel that knowing she has some very strong and valuable opinions on it, she simply wanted to do it justice and give the best she has to offer, as a guesture of how much it matters to her. And that is not only okay - it's admirable and inspiring.



What is beauty to you?

To me, beauty is living one's fill. My Great-Aunt Dee loves to remind me of my great-grandmother, Muriel, who lived in a cottage in the woods and liked to draw and paint. One day, Dee showed Muriel a picture of the writer, Isak Dinesen, in a magazine. Ms. Dinesen, a pale-skinned Danish woman,lived in Africa for decades - before sunscreen. When the photograph was taken, she was a very old woman. Her face crinkled in some places, wrinkled in others, and furrowed and trailed like an elaborate rivulet run map. Muriel took a glance. "Oh!", she said. "What a beautiful face! What I wouldn't give to have the chance to draw that face in person!"

Name a body image hang-up that you have overcome or are working on overcoming. How did you do it, or what are you doing to try to change the way you feel about it?

I became very brainy to compensate for limitations I felt as a cute, female child. I needed an identity in which I wouldn't be posed as everyone else's inferior - a head to be pet and an outfit to be commented on. I wanted to be smarter than the girls, boys, teachers, and most of all, my parents. It was painful to pretend that my body didn't exist. In fact, night after night, from when I was twelve to when I was eighteen, hives scrawled out across my face, back, bottom, and legs, and tucked in between my toes and fingers. The pink, raised itch, cried out for attention and rioted against too much control happening in me and over me.

As a near grown-up in drama school, I took three years to defrost and enliven my body. It took a lot of patience and practice - through Afro-Haitian dance and modern dance - to connect to my lower body, to embody primitive impulses like joy and rage - from head to toe, and to literally stand on my own two feet. I was also lucky to struggle with and practice breathing, speaking, and singing, in Linklater, Roy Hart, and Embodied Voice work.

As an adolescent, I used to think, " They'll have to lobotomize me before they turn me into a grown-up woman." I envisioned myself as a grown-up. A petrified ideal toppled into my head, as if from TV : I would wear a dark business jacket and skirt. I would have a beautiful hairdo. I would be perched on an enormous gray flight of stairs, like those in front of government buildings. I would be stuck, neither coming from nor going anywhere - the stairs symbolic of my stuckitude. And I used to think, "What will become of me-the-real-me?"

Today I sometimes worry that I'm not the brightest belle at the ball. But more often, I am glad to be able to influence my own experience of myself, and to live more and more, on my own terms.

What do you consider to be your most beautiful attribute, and why?

Okay - I'll go out on a limb and say my breasts, torso, belly, and vagina are my most beautiful parts. These parts hold and release instincts, impressions, pleasures, and pains, that are not so easily controlled. They offer fight-or-flight responses and real access to the emotional and irrational.

I have been recently looking at a huge picture book of artifacts from the prehistoric Goddess religion in Europe. A figurine carved from bone, found in what is now Romania and dated at about 8000 BC, comes to my mind. It has no limbs and no head; it has carved out breasts and an abstract, diamond shaped womb. V-shapes dart above the womb, skyward. Inverted V's reach below the womb, toward the ground - as if to portray energy coursing between heaven, earth, and womb. Breasts and wombs meant life, and interestingly, also death, in the oldest European religions. Prehistoric people built temples shaped like female bodies and underground tombs shaped like wombs. The patriarchal systems of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam fought tooth-and-nail to turn Goddess centered, life and death symbolism on its head, to support new power paradigms.

Today many women fear feeling fully and living vibrantly in their bodies. I first flinched at the sight of the figurine I described above. " It's a naked body! If I acknowledge my body, will I become just my body and nothing more? " Then I let myself see what I saw of the Goddess figure, and I found it to be beautiful.

If you could make one change regarding our society's current standard of beauty, what would it be?

I read the labels on my make-up: My lipstick - brown/red opaque- is labeled, Beauty. My mascara, Black Ruby. My "industrial strength" concealer is labeled, Boi-ing! I also sometimes dab Alabaster on my face, and circle my eyes with Night Essence.


If I could change one thing about society's current beauty/ myth set-up, I would shake the stories and accumulated dumbness out of the labels that whiz by us day after day. Labels appeal to notions we women have been taught to believe about ourselves. The division of make-up into "day" and "night" wear, corresponds to notions of female archetypes. Day make-up is advertised as light and virginal, while Night make-up is dark, dramatic, seductive, whorish. From the 1800's to the 1920's, prostitutes and play-actors were the only Americans and Brits permitted to make up with gusto. Notions of sin and "female-bodies-for-sale" are palpable in today's make-up marketing. Also, make-up is labeled "industrial strength" to appeal to women who aspire to succeed in a professional world, an industrial machine. Manufacturers market the societal prescription of making up, as an exciting job to be done.

A quest for real beauty, the quest countless fairy and folk tale characters embark on, involves losing, finding, and fighting for what one values. Manufacturers mimic this process in their make-up labels. They offer us Black Ruby and Alabaster - gems and pure treasures - for our faces. We are so soul starved, words like "gold dust" sometimes invoke possibility and value, even when applied to a slab of powder, mass produced. Night Essence eye shadow appeals to a lost engagement with nature and magic. The subterranean "night" knowledge and seeing abilities of women, long repressed and reviled, can be resurrected for a night out.

Above all, make-up labels appeal to our desire to consume special, symbolic foods. Many paints and powders are named Buttercream, Strawberry Fudge, Mocha, Muffin, etc. Manufacturers neatly circumvent the practice of selling make-up as "virginal/natural" or "whorish/seductive" with these labels, but they do not avoid myth or sexuality. Beautiful desserts hold a mythic status in many modern women's lives. They came to signify idealized domesticity, motherhood, childhood, parties, and holidays. One-third of American women are reported to have eating disorders; we struggle in our attempts to ingest matter needed to nourish ourselves. In marketing make-up as dessert, companies evoke the sweetness and satiation we may compulsively reject or compulsively consume in everyday life.

The terminology of making up is rather psychological and immaterial. We wear "shadows", "foundations", "mascara", often thought to be a mutation of a Spanish word for "mark" , that may have stemmed from an Occitan word meaning "witch". Archetypes, soul symbols, and nostalgic nods towards nature and the extraordinary, writhe beneath make-up labels. If I could change one thing about today's beauty/myth set-up, I would peel away the emphasis on getting and spending, and seek the jumble of ideas about the way we live, that lies below.

LAURA

"This above all : to thine own self be true."

-William Shakespeare

From the moment a mutual friend relayed the message that Laura was interested in being interviewed for my blog, I was excited. Not only was this a young woman raised in a completely different culture from my own, but this was also someone I didn't really know on a personal level, and thus, had no idea what she was going to say. I knew she had an opinion about the topic in general, but as far as beauty's role in her personal life, your guess was as good as mine. I've often been told that I'm pretty perceptive when it comes to other people and what they're all about, so it wasn't shocking to me when my impression of Laura - from the few times we had spoken in passing - as self-assured, self-confident, and comfortable in her own skin, turned out to be pretty accurate. But that's where my intuition ended, and assumptions began. Assumptions that I realize, I make quite often when people appear to be content with themselves and their lives. I automatically assume that this contentment is due to something they have, something they possess. Surely she wouldn't feel so confident if she were single, or surely he wouldn't be that content if he hadn't landed that big acting gig. Significant others, the number of friends, a gorgeous apartment, a successful business - the list goes on and on, and it's fraught with seeking the approval of others. What Laura's interview helped me to realize, is that despite my firm belief that one's physical appearance cannot make someone happy, I still seem to have this silly assumption that these other "things" are equated with one's level of self-worth, so a person can't be truly self-confident unless other people give them a reason to be so. In a nutshell, this way of thinking is essentially eliminating the "self" and equating worth with approval - which is, ironically, the same issue I'm working to combat with this blog,regarding our society's ridiculous viewpoint and standard of beauty. The way we are told to view beauty could also be considered one of those "things" that if attained, will equal contentment.

But Laura doesn't fit that assumption. Her self-worth comes from herself. That's not to say that all those other factors can't add to one's happiness in life - of course they can. But I think Laura said it best when she spoke of having only herself to rely on, and realizing that if she didn't take care of that, everything else would be lost. To me, that's like saying, " How can you truly enjoy life, if you don't like the person living it?". She not only forced me into realization regarding these assumptions, but also into the realization that maybe because life hasn't been treating me very favorably recently, I, in turn, haven't been appreciating and treating myself very well either. Yes, there are times when other people and extenuating circumstances are going to have an effect on how you feel, and may make you more susceptible to a decline in self-worth. But what we have to remember is, what someone else thinks about you, your job, your talent, etc, changes nothing about who you are deep inside and how very much you are worth.


This year has been a rough one for me, and as far as hopes and dreams go, there have been so many times I've wanted to throw in the towel. Many sleepless nights are fraught with questions : Did I really go through 14 years of battling and recovering from something that almost killed me, for this?..... If I'm really capable of achieving my career goals, why am I still working the same old part time jobs?....If so many people really do care about me, why do I feel so very alone?....But although it may not have been in the literal sense, I, like Laura, have taken some time to study myself, disregard what life has been telling me, and look deep inside to see what I'm really made of. Though I've been able to feel a little better in those moments, the contentment is fleeting, and it takes a great deal of work to be able to get back to that point on a day when I'd give just about anything to swap lives with any carefree girl that passes me on the street. But I will say, the more I've succeeded in doing so, the more moments like watching the sunset over the East River, or lying on a beautiful beach with one of my best friends ,or getting a hug from someone I love, have helped me to see that yes, despite everything, this battle HAS been worth it. I've been able to take heart that while I may only be working part-time jobs right now, every little step I take towards where I'd like my career to go, is clearly taking me closer and closer to the goal I desire - I just need to practice a little more patience and be more appreciative of the progress that's already being made. And lastly, I've been able to see that those people in my life who care about me, really do love me more than I ever realized. I've simply been blind to it because I haven't been taking the time to love myself.

So in addition to thanking Laura for all her wisdom and insight about beauty, and beauty in other cultures as well, I would also like to thank her for helping me take the time to ignore all the negative noise of the outside world, and take a moment to really look inward. It's certainly no piece of cake, but I'm working to keep those blinders off, and it's my hope that all of you will do the same. Imagine the beauty we might experience, if we can first find the beauty within ourselves.



So, I think the first question I want to ask you is - you said that you've read a few of the blogs and...


I just browsed through them.


What was it about reading them, or what was it about the topic that made you want to be interviewed?

Well, you know - I think the concept of beauty is one of those things that's been profited from in this culture, and I think it's a very dangerous thing that it's being profited from. I think it's interesting to hear what other people have to say about it, without having some kind of commercial interest behind it. Like, I notice that everybody whom I meet who hasn't done some investing in their own development as a person - their concepts about what's beautiful or who they think is beautiful, are very prepackaged, very boring. And as a visual artist, I'm very interested in beauty. I always have been....but sort of my version of what's beautiful.


Okay- well, I was going to ask you this anyway, but what you just said was the perfect lead-in. It's like it was scripted! I was going to ask you - what is your version of beauty? What is beauty, to you?


I think beauty is....I would say it's that, which can be absolutely anything, that's pleasing and intriguing to the eye, but also it's stimulating to the other senses - so like, the rest of you. Beauty is the most ambiguous thing there is. To me, one of the most relieving things that I've ever read in my life was "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." To me, that was the greatest relief ever. But, you know, it's true. It's the most ambiguous concept. I hope that makes sense.


It totally makes sense. And the funny thing is, your definition of "beauty", if you look it up in the Merriam Webster's dictionary, it's almost word for word what you said. There are several definitions, but that's the first and foremost definition. I use it as part of the blog, so you really hit the nail on the head!



I haven't looked it up! See why I didn't look it up?!



I know, I know. But to me, that says you have a really healthy and wonderful perception of beauty, because I guess you understand what it really means....more than a lot of people do, I think.



Where I grew up in Santo Domingo, somebody who looks like me wouldn't be necessarily so beautiful, because beauty had a very colonialist ideal behind it. Since I was a little girl, I've always been a bit rebellious, so I always kinda felt like - okay, you're b.s.-ing me...I don't believe you. But you know - I've probably been called ugly more than most people I know, right?


Really?!


Yes, but it's because they were not looking at me. They were looking at my skin color,they were looking at my features, they were looking at the fact that I didn't straighten my hair. And that pointed out that coming from a post-colonialist environment, you have to - if you look like me, you have to sort of realize that that conception of beauty is just one conception of it. And it's just a conception that was created to make a profit, right? So to survive, to have self-esteem - you have to realize that. Luckily for me, I kind of realized that early, because otherwise, I would end up like a lot of people I know from back home who - you know - we're brown, we have brown eyes, but they were always looking for things they don't have....like contact lenses, or you have to dye your hair, straighten your hair. I always try to tell my friends, you have to embrace the way you are and find beauty in it, not the other way around. But that culture is geared towards making you do it the other way around. So, when I got here, it's not a colonialist or a post-colonialist mindset of beauty, but it's a corporate, capitalistic mindset of beauty, which is similar.


It's in a different way, but has the same effect.


Yeah. Beauty is never an inward gaze. It's the outward gaze that tells you how you have to look. That's not cool.



No, it's not....So, I don't know how long you've been here, but in terms of people calling you "ugly", or saying that they didn't think you were beautiful in your home town - I've had similar experiences with people saying things to me, for different reasons, when I was growing up. It affected my self-esteem, and some of those things, I carry with me to this day. Did that affect you permanently too? Do you still have physical hang-ups about yourself? And if you don't, what do you think it was that helped you get over them?



That's a good question. You know, I don't think I have physical hang-ups so much,because - it's strange - I always had a hard time relating to other people. I think visually, I'm left handed, all kinds of little things that make me sort of try to go the other way, naturally. And I would spend a lot of time on myself ,alone. As a child, I liked being alone. It was kinda weird for other people, but I think I overcame the whole thing of what other people thought about me because I would just spend a lot of time looking at myself in the mirror and - it's bizarre. Just looking at myself in the mirror and imagining things, or like really, really observing myself and trying to get rid of everything that I was being told. At first, I would see the Disney cartoons, and I would fantasize -like, "Oh, I want to be the Little Mermaid!" - that was my big thing. But then I realized - there's absolutely no way I can look like that woman. Like, no way. So, you start discovering things about yourself that you like. Like, I like my ability of drawing things that I wanted, of creating things. I guess at some point - I don't remember exactly which point - I started looking at other women of color that had asserted their blackness, the part of them that's black. That's an issue in the colonialist structure - not being black. And that just made me feel like, "Okay, I'm not crazy - they agree with it." You don't have to be white to be pretty, basically. Even though I don't have anything against how white people can be pretty too. Let's settle that now. My boyfriend is as white as it gets. But I think that I sort of overcame it by going more and more into my shell - which is pretty strange, but it didn't make me react to certain things. It made me strongly reject certain aspects of Dominion culture. It made me strongly reject certain sexist aspects of that culture even faster, because I felt that they rejected me to begin with, and I rejected Dominion religious practices very strongly. I just sort of disassociated from that environment entirely,to the point where I had like one friend. But at least I didn't end up having serious issues like everybody else had - issues with weight and what have you. But I don't know...I sort of have this weird thing of just looking at myself and being happy with how I look. It's bizarre.


It's not bizarre. I think it's really admirable. So, you never - I mean, I'm sure you have bad days too....



I mean, I've had bad times when I've had ...I've been close to having some eating problems, but I think it had more to do with brusque change of environment when I came to New York. It never got to the point where it was life threatening, I never ended up in the hospital, you know what I mean? And I realized that what I was doing was counterproductive - let's put it that way. It wasn't benefiting me. It wasn't even wanting to, it was more like, I have to stop, because at that point, I sort of only had myself to rely on, and if I messed up myself, then I really wasn't gonna have anything. My family did not live here, so when I came, it really got to the point where it....all you had is yourself, and you have to take care of that, because you don't have money, you don't have relatives. You're literally down to number one here. If you mess that up, everything is done. So, that was the Midas cure for me.



That's really interesting....Okay, so we've established that you've come to point where you generally feel good about yourself. If you had to pick something, what would you say is your most beautiful attribute? And you can say more than one. It can be something physical, or it can be something that has to do with who you are as a person....



My most beautiful attribute...uh....see there, that's a difficult one! Everything else was easy.



Ooooo....I'm like the Barbara Walters of blog interviews.



No, no - that's good! What do I like most about myself physically? I like how angular my face is. It gives me some severity when I need it - I love it. It's kind of elegant, but it can be severe, if I need to be. So, I would say I like that. I like being long all over. It's good. Um....inside attribute that I like about myself? I like the fact that I can become introspective, -as a way of dealing with everything - when I need to be. Like if nothing is working out, I can just walk around and fantasize, and I can just be happy without the aid of anything else, you know what I mean? I learned how to do that. I would recommend to everybody - that's good to learn. Yeah, I guess that's what I like most.


Very good. Let's see...This is sort of backtracking a little. I should've asked you this earlier. When you were talking about feeling that you were not looked upon favorably -because of dark skin and curly hair - in Santo Domingo, you said that the general views on beauty were similar, yet different, from those in the United States. Being someone with darker skin in the states - have you run into different issues regarding perceptions of beauty? I guess what I'm asking is, how are the standards different, and how are they similar?


Well, it's different because here now with...what's going on in advertising is that women who look like me - taller, brown, they got big hips, and the whole...everything else - they're hypersexualized. So, I've had a lot of experiences of people who just look at me, and they see the way I am, and to them, that's a guide that I'm hypersexualized too. Not true regarding them. So, you know, I have that experience. There is sort of a variety of canons of what beauty is here. It's a little bit more diverse because there are a lot of different ethnic groups, so they all bring their own version of what beauty is. But there's - of course - that obsession with you are either model thin or you're very voluptuous....that now has become acceptable here, but it's embraced by a very specific culture. Like, I see African American and Latin people embrace that, but so much of maybe...corporate Caucasian Americans, European Americans, are not so into that. It's very localized. I've had all kinds of experiences of feeling exoticized somewhat. I once had this customer at the store, and this woman - she was a Caucasian woman in her middle age - she touched my hair, and she said "You have such a beautiful face...I wish I could sculpt you!" I've had experiences like that...and uglier experiences here. But back home it's more of....Europeans go there because they want really dark-skinned women, but Dominican guys are like, " Oh, white!". It's doesn't matter what you really look like. If you are white, and you've got straight hair, and you dye it blond - you're like "Wow". It doesn't matter how you look otherwise. The craziest thing is, if you're walking around and they think you look good - even if you look like me which is like, you can't be blond of you look like me - they'll call you "blond" because that means "good looking". It's creepy.



Really?! That's so interesting....wow. That's a lot to think about.



If you go to Santo Domingo, they'll scream "Blond!" right away.* It doesn't matter. If you're good looking, you're blond.


(*It should be noted that I have dark brown hair.)



That's mind boggling to me. I never knew that.....So, you've mentioned that you're a visual artist, which I guessed because of where you work, and I know that you have a great interest in art. Do you think that having that interest and that experience has helped you have a more positive, healthier perspective on beauty?


I think so, because to be a good visual artist - and I do a lot of different media. Right now, I'm doing sculpture mainly, just to give an idea of what kinds of things I do - you have to challenge yourself. It's a race against yourself. You can't compare yourself to other artists because you're doing completely different things most of the time. One of my challenges that I've put on myself since I was fairly young, was to express that which I thought was truly, truly beautiful, truly interesting to me. Not what canons support or what other people would find interesting. Like whenever I make something, I don't make it to sell. Unless I'm making a present, I really don't care whether other people are gonna find it beautiful or frightening or whatever. Which has happened - the frightening part. It's just...I've always had this very silly goal in life. Like, it sounds silly and corny to other people, but my whole goal in life is to be happy. People always tell me, "Oh, what do you wanna do?"...I just wanna be happy, and that means you have to be flexible, you have to be open, but you also have to keep track, check of yourself, of how you're doing, what you're doing. A big part of being an artist is to be able to have the initiative to explore parts of yourself that might scare you, that might bring out intense emotion, to really communicate that which is unique about your experience and your time, because otherwise, you're just another person who knows how to use art supplies, you know?


Wow. Very cool. So, this is kind of a loaded question too, but if you could change one thing about the current standard of beauty in our society - like, the starting point - what do you think it would be?



I would most like to change the whole thing about being either blond or like, a defined brunette. I would like to see people embrace more their natural hair color. I like natural hair color. I can always tell when people dye it, usually. I just...I would like to see people embrace their natural eye color, their natural pigmentation in general. I also hate fake tans. They're hideous. I think that's a big part of embracing yourself - just realizing that the way you are, as a package naturally, is the best palette for you. When you bring an outside element, you're disturbing the color palette, usually. Some people do it for fun, and that's okay. If that is what they're really happy doing, go for it! But I have friends that...I don't know what their natural hair color is. For me, some people will tell me, " Oh, you should brighten up something here and there...", because everything on me is brown, different shades of brown. But that is the way I am. That's the color palette that works best. Or even people who have grays. I wanna see grays. I like grays. They're nice. Dyed grays - not that nice. It's bizarre, but I've been thinking about this the past few weeks...I've been looking at like the older you get, the more veins show, the more marks you get, but you kind of start looking tree-like. You know how trees have that sort of texture and stillness? Trees have this way of sort of being sensuous when they're old. Like, the older you get, if people actually embrace getting older, they'll eventually look sensuous in the same way a tree does. If they don't, they might end up looking like some of my customers. They have a lot of plastic surgery, where they become unrecognizable compared to the person they used to be. I said it was kinda weird, but....


No, I like it. Anything else you'd like to add?



It's just sort of a reflection that, you know, the more you embrace finding your own things which you find beautiful -the more you enjoy life. Being able to actually contemplate life, I think, helps you live it a little better. I don't know how to meditate or anything, but just looking at the beautiful things that we're being presented to as beautiful every day, are not really calming. I would say, even if somebody feels great about how they look , and they fit the prototype of what's beautiful in this culture, it might be a sort of rewarding and... like growth... experience, enriching experience, to just take a moment to just look at something which you find beautiful, and nobody else told you was beautiful, and just really embrace it and look at it. Or if you like music, listen to it....touch it, if touching is your thing. At the rhythm in which we live now, I think it's a really important thing for me to do. I do it all the time to calm myself down. It might be beneficial for other people to do it as well.


Now I want to ask you another question!


Go for it!


What are some of those things that lead you to do that? Just curious....


Like right now, we're sitting in this restaurant, and I'm looking at the red glasses with the candles in them, and the way the light reflects on the brick - to me that's very calming and beautiful. It could be literally anything. We go back to the beginning of the description of beauty, like it's such an ambiguous thing. That could be the way the dirt piles on a heater that has chipped up paint. It could be the way piano notes follow each other. Or it could just be looking at somebody, and looking at their hands, or looking at somebody's skin texture. Let's say, going to the park with me is kind of a trip. I stop and look at stuff and touch it. Stuff, not people. But, you know, just sort of find your own things. That's the main idea - it could literally be anything. When I'm really, really, really upset, I just look at a piece of wall, and look at the way the light hits and how it diffuses, and it calms me down. To you, it might be looking at your iPod , you know?


Well, I don't have an iPod, but music is definitely one of those things for me....and I like soft, red light a lot too. Good stuff, Laura.

CHILDREN WILL LISTEN

"Careful the things you say,children will listen."

-Stephen Sondheim

Given that the holiday season is upon us, most of those who have signed on to be featured in upcoming posts have a bit too much on their plates to devote the proper time to answering such difficult questions right now. Instead of letting the blog fall to the wayside until the new year,I decided this would be a good opportunity for me to try my hand at writing another post of my own. Choosing my topic,however, proved to be a more difficult decision. After several subway and coffee shop brainstorming sessions, I had many interesting ideas,but nothing that felt quite right. That is, nothing that felt quite right until synchronicity stepped in. I was entering my usual subway route last week, scurrying through an endless sea of commuters and scanning my chosen car for an empty seat. I was a bit flustered, running from one obligation to the next, and once I was seated,completely ready to lose myself in my music and thoughts of the moment. It should have taken a lot to get my attention, but it didn't. All it took was a little girl of about 7 or 8, standing above me. She not only captured my attention,but inspired this post in the process.

I'm sure it was her shining,torso length, golden hair that initially caught my eye,but it was that unmistakable look--the look of the school Christmas pageant circa first or second grade--that held my gaze. The long,puffy hem of her dress peeking out from under her coat, the white tights, the little black shoes, and most importantly, the hair. On special occasions like this, the dress is nothing without the hairdo. I could see that this particular young lady had naturally fine, straight hair, which her mother had obviously gone to great lengths to form into perfect ringlets, forming a cascade of curls that flowed down her pint-sized back. To me, she was the poster child of the school Christmas program. The epitome of sugar and spice and everything nice. I'm sure I was smiling as I was reminded of days past, when I myself wasn't so far from this very image. I was just about to resume my thoughtful music listening when I became distracted yet again. This time it was the shrill voices of two college aged young women, engaging in an apparently, very exciting conversation. My first instinct was to reach for the volume dial,but I stopped short when I realized they were discussing their appearances. Both because of this blog and because I've struggled with appearance issues myself, I started to half listen. This half listening turned to whole listening when I noticed the little girl's eyes lock in on this very same conversation. It dabbled a little bit in clothing, a little in accessories, and then reached a noticeable focal point with the topic of hair. As the color and texture comparison between the two friends began, I noticed the young girl lean into the subway pole to get a better view. A few times, she picked up a handful of ringlets and studied their color as if to compare notes, then returned all attention to the conversation, eager to hear what would be discussed next. When the shift was made to the matter of curly vs. straight, it was clear that the stakes had been raised.

In all honesty, I was so fascinated by what I was seeing that I don't remember the exact details of what was said from this point on. One point that was made very clear, however, was the consensus that straight hair was preferable. At the first mention of this statement, I watched the little girl's fingers slowly make their way to her hair. As the friends continued to chat, her eyes widened and began to bounce back and forth,as if she was watching the final match of the US Open rather than a discussion on the subway. Slowly, her fingers began to move from the top of her head to the end of each ringlet, discreetly combing through the curls. With each response, they became deeper and deeper entwined in her hair, until it became obvious that she was indeed trying to straighten it. I was astounded. My eyes made their way to the mother, who had finally noticed what was going on, but gave no reaction whatsoever. When the straightening motion reached an almost unbearable level of intensity, the little girl abruptly turned to her mother and pleaded, " Mommy, I want to straighten my hair!" The mother's only response was a rather curt, "We will,but I want Daddy to see it first." I was flabbergasted. This seemingly happy, bubbly little girl, who had paid absolutely no attention to the state of her hair upon entering the train, was now miserable and embarrassed by her curly hair, simply because she overheard a ten minute conversation between two random strangers. As I rose from my seat to exit the train, I felt this overwhelming urge to lean down and tell her that her hair looked beautiful. But feeling that I would be overstepping my boundaries and possibly complicating matters even further, I chose to mind my own business and silently left the car.

I know that this sort of thing happens all the time. Part of being a child is wanting to emulate what we see as "good" in those around us, especially grown-ups. I remember quite vividly, being about 7 or 8 years old, and forcing myself to swallow a mouthful of an Almond Joy candy bar, simply because my dad was eating one too. But this particular circumstance seemed different to me. I can't help but wonder if that little girl will be in constant need of approval, altering her appearance to fit each new trend or popular opinion, and feeling ugly, ashamed, even worthless, if she doesn't get it. Or will she simply be someone who grows to learn who she is, becoming confident and comfortable in her appearance, regardless of whether her hair is long or short, blond or brown, curly or straight. Am I overreacting? Am I merely too sensitive to issues like this? Perhaps. I'm sure that very thought is running through a few minds right now. But I definitely feel this is something worth noting. Those two young women were only doing what young women do, but this is a blatant example of why it's important to consider the possible weight of your words, especially when children are near. As my parents were so fond of saying, "Mouseketeers have big ears".

The deeper I dove into my own battle with anorexia, the more apparent it became to me and those who love me, that at the core this really had nothing to do with weight or vanity. Something much, much deeper was manifesting itself in my outward appearance. But it was my initial desire to change my appearance to look like the "other girls" that led me to diet...which led to my anorexia...which almost killed me. It's not a coincidence that I've chosen to write on my birthday. This January, it will be 10 years since the doctors informed my parents that I would probably die within two weeks. That's 9 birthdays and counting. For those of you who don't believe in miracles, well, call it what you want, but if you've met me you've seen one in the flesh. This year more than ever, I've become increasingly aware of the beauty of family, of true friends, of life, and of love. I never dreamed that it would be even remotely possible for me to know life in this way. And yet for my one tale of triumph, how many are out there who will never know that beauty, not even for a moment? I shudder to think of what so many are suffering this very moment. I'm thankful for having gone through what I did, so that I am able to do exactly what I'm doing...hopefully making a difference. But that's not to say there isn't a part of me that wishes I could go back and have a little talk with the Sara you see above. If I was feeling the pressures of certain standards of beauty when I was growing up, I can't even imagine what it must be like for today's children. If we,as adults, feel bombarded with sensationalized images of perfection, think of how daunting it must be for a young child who hasn't even begun to think about who they are as a person.

Unfortunately, I don't have an eye opening, definitive statement on how to solve this problem. I'm certainly no expert in child psychology. But I have been doing some networking, getting in touch with like minded and like hearted individuals who are concerned about the same issue, and hopefully some new, innovative, and ultimately more effective courses of action can be set in motion. Until then, I don't know. We're only human. We're always going to say the wrong thing, at the wrong time, in the presence of the wrong person...possibly a child. We certainly can't be held accountable for how each and every person will interpret what we say and do, or how it might affect them. But I don't think it's too much to ask that we try to acknowledge that there may be someone watching, listening, learning. Perhaps that simple acknowledgment will spark us to be more accepting and less judgmental towards our own perceived flaws. And maybe through that example of learning to be okay with the reflection we see in the mirror, maybe the next little girl will want to keep her curls a little while longer....just to show her daddy how much she likes them.