I saw you walking by when I was sitting in the food court eating a mediocre (and distinctly American) taco the other day. You looked sad, tired, hungry. But I could tell you had spent a significant amount of time trying to look attractive. By some strange contemporary standard you were a visual success; your naturally dark hair bleached blonde, your once fair complexion unnaturally tanned, your formerly ivory teeth an extreme bright white, your chest disproportionately large for your frame and figure (I hesitate to presume the later was a result of surgery or other enhancement).
The irony is that to me you looked unattractive and generic, like the physical average of all high school cheerleaders combined. Something tells me that you are naturally beautiful, but I would never know. Whether consciously or not, you seem to have done just about everything to resist looking like yourself.
But how can I judge you? I don't know your story. And since you live in the same world I do, I can only assume that you suffer from many false ideas about femininity and true beauty. In many ways you are a victim of an over-sexed, image obsessed culture that is fueled by everything from Hollywood and the porn industry to the fashion world and men who are simply looking for their next brief high. I don't want to assume you have—or have had—an eating disorder. But the statistics tell me it is likely, like the high number of men with pornography addictions (an atrocity that serves in many ways to encourage the eating disorders).
I am not anti-media; I'm not a cynical doom-and-gloom spreading, apocalypse prophesying hater. But I wish you didn't hate your body. You would look and feel better. I wish you had the affirmation and freedom you crave. And honestly, for all we know, Paris Hilton doesn't even have Paris Hilton's body type!
Sincerely,
Christopher
No comments:
Post a Comment