Is It Important To Know You Are Beautiful?

Recently, I heard someone present the argument that it is not at all important for us to think our bodies are attractive. We don’t need to accept our weight or our stretch marks or our hair, because at the end of the day, none of that makes us us. We are not our bodies. We are not our nose or our eyes or our legs or our ass. We are more than that; we are people. We are intelligence and wit and kindness and strength. We don’t have to be beautiful, because we transcend that.

I agree with part of this argument. I agree that, yes, we are more than our bodies. That is one hundred percent, completely true – you are not at all defined by what people physically see about you. You are so much more than that.

But at the same time, I do believe that it is important that you know your body is beautiful as well.

Why? I mean, if I think that we are more than our bodies, then wouldn’t I agree that a body is mostly superficial? Meaningless? Our bodies just support us through life, they are the means through which we interact with the world and that’s it, right?

Well, yes, technically that is their purpose. But societally speaking, bodies (and female bodies in particular) have been assigned a much deeper role than that.

Essentially from birth, female bodies are discussed in terms of ‘beauty’, and too often, that beauty is connected to something else, something more insidious – worth. Saying to a little girl “oh, you’re so pretty!” is pretty much synonymous with saying, “you’re a good, worthwhile person, aren’t you?” Women are taught from a very young age to take pride from their physical bodies, and especially in their teen years, women are warned about what will happen if their physical bodies don’t match up to society’s standards.

A young girl who carries extra weight too long for it to be considered baby fat anymore is warned that she needs to lose that weight immediately, and if she doesn’t lose that weight, then the boys won’t like her. And if the boys don’t like her, then she’ll never get a boyfriend. If she never gets a boyfriend, then she’ll have to settle for the first boy with low enough standards to take her. If she settles, then she won’t be happy in her marriage. If she isn’t happy with her marriage, then she won’t be happy with her life. It doesn’t matter if any of this is true or not (and trust me, it isn’t). Many women are still told this or similar narratives while they are still too young to be able to question it.

And even if we ignore the fact that many young girls are told that their physical beauty is directly proportional to their worth, there are simply so many ways that society teaches women to hate their bodies. We have commercials telling women that their eyelashes aren’t long enough, so buy this mascara and your life will be better. We have magazines that shock and gasp at the mere prospect of a celebrity with stretch marks or cellulite. We have a movie industry that returns again and again to the same beauty standards (thin, feminine, youthful, lighter skinned, able-bodied, cis-gendered, etc.) to represent their female leads, the characters that the script decides deserves a happy ending and a good life.

So with all of this, it isn’t surprising when young girls start to hate their bodies.

And when girls hate their bodies, they sometimes start to do very dangerous things to them. For example, it is estimated that 10 million American women suffer from an eating disorder.

Or perhaps we don’t cause damage to our bodies. Perhaps we just feel ashamed of them, covering them up wherever we go, hating the idea of anyone ever getting a peek at them. Perhaps we feel a little bit like our bodies devalue us as a person – after all, we have received the message that our beauty is directly correlated with our worth, haven’t we? We feel like we can’t find love until we reach a certain size, or we need to keep a certain part of us hidden, lest our lover be less interested as a result of seeing it. We feel ugly, gross, like something nobody ever wants to see. We call ourselves names and avoid mirrors and become jealous when we see someone who better matches our idea of beauty.

At the end of the day, our bodies are just bodies, yes. They are designed to be a vessel that carries your intelligence and your kindness and your talent and everything else about you that truly makes you amazing. But at the same time, all of this still matters. Not because our bodies have any huge bearing on who we are as a person – they don’t, but because, due to the amount of importance that society has put on our bodies, they end up having a lot of influence on how we see ourselves.

And maybe you have managed to get passed all of that. Maybe you really don’t care how you look on the outside, and if you do, then that’s awesome. Good for you. But in this society, it is perfectly understandable if you haven’t. You can tell yourself, again and again, that your physicality doesn’t matter because you’re so many amazing things on the inside, but that doesn’t mean that when someone else places value on you based on your body, it won’t hurt or make you feel like less of a person.

And that, I think, is where changing our perspective on what’s beautiful comes in. You need to know that you are beautiful, no matter what you look like. You need to know that our society’s definition of beauty is incredibly limited, and at the end of the day, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. You need to know that your stretch marks do not devalue you, that your body hair doesn’t make you any less beautiful. Because once you know that, then you become more confident. Then it stings a little less when someone else makes a comment about your body, because you know that they’re wrong – and they are wrong. They come from a very limited, very sad perspective, and you’re so much better than all that! You are a beautiful person, and you have every right to feel like a beautiful person.

And once you gain that confidence, then it might become a bit easier for you to express all of the things that truly make you amazing. Because your body is just that – a body, and learning to love it is just one step. It’s a very important step, a step that I think needs to be made, but only because it will lead you toward accepting that you are worthwhile, that you deserve all the joys this world has to offer you. And once you know that (because it’s very true, and society is wrong to have ever made you feel otherwise), then you can feel free to be the amazing, strong, incredibly unique person that you truly are.

You Are Beautiful in Your Flaws

Dear girls who do not perfectly fit into society’s definition of beauty; girls who have belly rolls and thick thighs and jiggly chins; girls with stretch marks and cellulite; girls who don’t like their hair or their skin or the amount of hair they have on their skin:

You. Are. Beautiful.

You are. You might not think you are, but that’s only because we as a society have a very confusing idea of what beauty is.

According to society, beauty is very limiting. It is one thing, it is a certain face, a certain body, a certain hairstyle. It is black or white, you are either beautiful or you aren’t, end of story. Except, by the very nature of being limiting, it sort of winds up excluding everybody. To be beautiful, you must have Marilyn Monroe’s face, Pamela Anderson’s breasts, Jennifer Lopez’s abs, Nicki Minaj’s butt, and Miranda Kerr’s legs. This is not one woman, this is a Frankenstein amalgamation created through plastic surgery and photoshop (either that, or by winning the genetic lottery). And while there’s nothing wrong with matching society’s definition of beauty, it is important that we recognize that society’s definition of beauty is really difficult, if not impossible, to match up to.

And you are a real woman. Regardless of who you are or how you look, you are a flesh and blood human being, and that means that you’re going to have some flaws, but that doesn’t mean that you are not beautiful, and that doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve love.

I have seen so many articles and online posts praising a man (usually) because he dared to love a woman who wasn’t traditionally pretty, saying things like “what a great guy, he loved her despite the fact that she’s fat” or “how sweet, he still loves her even though she has wrinkles”. But to this, I say two things:

  1. Yes, of course he loves her: long before he met her and decided that she was “good enough” for him, she was already a beautiful human being who deserves to be loved, as we all do.
  2. Why does her physical appearance dictate whether or not her husband/lover/partner deserves praise for “putting up with her”?

It should not be surprising to us when a man declares his love for someone who doesn’t perfectly match the description of beauty that society puts out for us. We should not be awed and inspired by his bravery. Because regardless of the way that that woman looks, she should deserve love. If she is kind, caring, and intelligent, then does the relationship really merit congratulations on his part because he managed to look passed the fact that she also has a little extra body fat or cellulite? Because the way I see it, love is about so much more than physical bodies. It is about trust, happiness, and support; her dress size doesn’t have anything to do with it. It is not an obstacle in their relationship, and she is not “lucky” to have found a guy who is capable of seeing her value passed her body fat.

And she is not beautiful only because he has decided that she is. Her beauty was there long before he declared it; all you had to do was open your eyes to it.

Because beauty isn’t about a dress size or smooth skin or body proportions. It isn’t about looking better than someone else, or about being a “real woman” as opposed to a fake one. It isn’t about a single, limited definition, and it most certainly is not something that someone else gets to decide for you if you have it or you don’t. Beauty is subjective, and while society most certainly influences the way that we see beauty, you also have the power to change what you think is beautiful. You can broaden your definition of beauty to include your flaws. You can decide that it doesn’t matter what society says, all that matters is what you say.

And if someone else doesn’t see how beautiful you are, then let them get a good look of your great ass as you walk away.

Why We Should Talk About Free the Nipple

Hey guys; I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re nearing the end of July now. And maybe this isn’t exactly something that I have the best experience with, seeing as I spend my days in my dark and dank, cavern-like basement with only my computer screen for light, but I hear tell of the myth of summer, this time when the world gets very, very hot, forcing people to strip down and wear fewer clothing.

And, okay, maybe I’m not entirely familiar with the concept of sun or beaches or swimming or going outside, but I am familiar with the strange sort of controversy that exists around this concept of wearing fewer clothing – a controversy that really exists every day of the year, thanks to women who insist on breastfeeding their baby (as though that was what boobs were meant for or something), but which gets more and more prevalent during the hotter months of the year.

And one of the main reasons why I’m aware of this controversy from my cavern-like basement is because of the Free the Nipple campaign.

Started in 2012 after a few incidences where women in the United States were charged with indecent exposure and public indecency for appearing topless in public (including in states like New York, where such things are supposed to be legal), the Free the Nipple campaign describes itself as centred around the idea of gender equality. Perhaps most notably, the equality that they take a special interest in is a woman’s right to take her shirt off and walk around with her tatas out.

And, I mean, sure. Why not? I mean, summers get hot, and ever since the 1930’s, men have had the right to walk around and make us all feel like we’re seeing way too much of their torso, so why can’t women have the same right? In fact, it might even make more sense for women to have the right to be publicly topless than men, because (as I briefly touched on before), women with babies often need to breastfeed them, and this involves exposing a boob or two. I mean, what else are we going to do with those breastfeeding mothers? Make tired, stressed-out women who have already pushed a human being out of their vagina hide away in the Bathroom of Shame while all of their lucky friends without children just go on with their lives? I mean, what sort of sense would that make?

So, yeah, let’s make this legal! Let’s fight for police to recognize our right to bare the boobs!

Except, this is already legal in many places in North America.

Despite this campaign’s beginnings in legality, you’d be surprised by the amount of places where it’s technically legal for women to walk around topless. In the United States, individual states have the right to dictate the legalities around female toplessness, and though these laws change frequently, you’d be surprised by the amount of states where boobs are actually legal. And then we have my country, Canada, wherein it’s actually legal for women to walk around topless almost everywhere – including and almost especially in my own province, Ontario.

Look, I know I just said that I don’t really get out much, but if this was the case, then you’d think I would have at least seen one public boob. But I haven’t. In fact, if I didn’t know that female toplessness was legal where I live, I wouldn’t have even guessed it.

I still see women covering up their boobs, all throughout the hot summers. I still hear about mothers who shock and gasp at a woman breastfeeding in public because “think of the children! What if my little Timmy sees a boob! A boob!!!!” And in fact, although I’ve never actually seen this mythological creature known as the publicly topless women, I’ve still heard people make snide comments about them when they see pictures – comments like, that’s disgraceful, and that’s so weird, and why doesn’t she respect herself and put some clothes on, and, at their most dangerous, she’s just asking for something to happen.

So if, legally and technically speaking, female toplessness is the same as male toplessness, why isn’t it treated the same?

Well, it’s because, societally speaking, female toplessness isn’t the same as male toplessness.

A lot of this comes down to the way that we tend to think about women and women’s bodies. Women’s bodies are often viewed as sexual objects in a way that men’s bodies aren’t. Technically speaking, breasts are just another part of the body – about as sexual as hands are, but the difference is that hands occur on every body, whereas breasts tend to grow most commonly on people who are assigned female at birth, and therefore, as a female body part, they are viewed as inherently sexual. It doesn’t matter that they can function also as food for babies, or as odd bags of fat that cling to your chest; they’re female body parts, which makes them sexual, which makes them bad, which means that you have to cover them up, no ifs, ands, or buts about it!

When a man appears shirtless in public, it can be for a lot of reasons. Maybe he’s hot (temperature-wise, I mean), or maybe he got his shirt dirty, or maybe he doesn’t own a shirt; who knows, really? When a woman appears shirtless in public, people will automatically assume that it is for only one reason: sex. She is ‘inviting attention’. She is ‘opening herself up’ to being leered at, to being flirted with, to being assaulted; if any of that happens to her, then she may not even be viewed as the victim, but as the cause. She has a female body that she isn’t ashamed of, which immediately means that she’s promiscuous, that she’s a ‘whore’, that she has no self-respect (and by the way, why would being promiscuous necessarily mean that you have no self-respect anyway?).

Except they’re just boobs. They are not inherently sexual. They’re body parts and little else, they say nothing about us and mean nothing.

If you want proof that boobs are sexualized to a ridiculous extent in our society, as well, then look at some of the responses to the Free the Nipple campaign, which include certain men claiming that boobs ‘belong in pornography’, and that if a woman earns the right to walk around with her tits out, then he should have the right to walk around with his dick out. In our society, a woman’s nipples are so intensely sexualized, that some men do not even see them as being the same as the nipples that they have on their own chests, but rather equate them to being the exact same thing as genitals. In our society, female nipples are deemed less of a body part, and more of a tool used in pornography to get men off.

And if Free the Nipple proves anything, it’s that this needs to change.

That’s the beautiful thing about all of this being societal too; this can change. Right now, it isn’t common or, in some cases, even safe for women to walk around topless, but that might not always be the case. With campaigns like Free the Nipple, we can keep talking about this, keep supporting women who want to go shirtless, keep pointing out how ridiculous it sounds to claim that female nipples belong in pornography and male nipples belong at the beach. And the more that we do, the more that people will begin to change their minds, and the more that society will change as a result.

So even if you aren’t comfortable baring your breasts this summer (and trust me, I get it if you aren’t), don’t forget about the women who are, and the women who are trying to be. Support those women, and talk about those women. Make those women normal, because someday, they might just be.

 

Why Boys SHOULD Cry

When I was a little girl, I received the message that men did not like it when female-gendered people cried (particularly if it was during an argument or disagreement) because it was as good as blackmail. I was indirectly told that it did not matter if my tears were genuine or not, they would always be perceived by men as intentional and manipulative, a way to get what I wanted out of them. I must have been around five or six when I first heard this – kindergarten aged, anyway.

Throughout my life, I would hear a very similar message repeated. I learned that any excess of emotion that I showed in front of men would earn me a dismissive scoff and the question, “are you on your period?” I learned that, throughout history, women have been accused of being hysterical and insane because they tend to express more emotion than men do. And only yesterday, I heard the comment that finally made me break down and write this article: “You can’t cry as a woman. If you cry, then you give away all of your power” (the amount of emotion you express has absolutely no connection to your level of power, just to make that clear now. You can still be a total badass while simultaneously crying at dog food commercials).

Now, so far, I have been focusing on the female experience simply because I was born and raised female. I know what it’s like to be a woman, while I’ve never really lived as a man, but I do know that this is not an issue that stems traditionally from the way that we view women and their emotions. Rather, it is an issue that stems traditionally from men, and the way that we as a society perceive male emotions.

Men are taught essentially from birth that emotions are not only a bad thing, they are decidedly un-masculine (read: feminine). Young boys are allowed to express emotions like anger and aggression, and even happiness to a somewhat subdued extent (if they’re too openly happy, they run the risk of being accused of being feminine or, in this case, gay). But we’ve all heard the expression “boys don’t cry”, and that expression comes from somewhere culturally. We teach boys that they shouldn’t cry, that if they’re sad or troubled or struggling, they should bottle that up and shoulder the burden themselves. They should not reach out. They should not talk to someone. They should not cry. They should buck up and be a man, grow some balls, rub some dirt in it and move on.

And just to make this clear – I’m not trying to say that no man is in touch with their emotions. I have known many men who are even more in touch with their emotions than I am. What I am talking about here is the cultural idea of “boys don’t cry”, and how this idea has affected some men.

This cultural idea that men can never be vulnerable or excessively emotional has led to many, many problems for the men who take this message seriously. Pent-up unhappiness needs to come out in some way, and if men aren’t going to talk about it or deal with it directly, this can sometimes come out in the form of aggression toward other people, or behaviour that is self-harmful (but “boys will be boys”, right?). Other times, this unhappiness will lead to clinical depression, which in and of itself is a major problem that needs to be addressed, but especially when you add on to that the fact that men in America die by suicide 3.5 times more often than women. And in many cases, men who take this message of “boys don’t cry” too seriously are, to put it simply, emotionally immature. They are men who don’t know how to deal with emotions when they’re confronted with them. Men who assume that, every time a woman cries, it is weak and it is manipulative and it is evil. Men who just emotionally check out of a situation when it gets too be too much or too big for them to handle.

My point is, when you teach a young boy that “boys don’t cry”, that they can’t deal with their emotions and work through them, all you are doing is hurting them in the long run. You are taking away their opportunity to learn about their emotions and how to deal with them in a healthy and mature way.

But this is an issue that’s getting better, right? As feminism becomes more and more prominently talked about and we begin to question gender roles more openly, we as a society are becoming more and more accepting of male emotions, right?

Well, actually, if the personal experience that I shared at the beginning of the article means anything, I’m tempted to say: no. In fact, in some ways, this issue actually seems to be getting worse.

Although we talk more and more about feminism nowadays, society at large still has this tendency to think of things as a binary of good and evil, and gender still tends to fall into that binary. We’re opening up more and more every day – transgender issues are being more prominently discussed, and the existence of gender queer or non-binary people has been acknowledged to some extent, but at the same time, I’m tempted to say that society still tends to split gender into this idea of man/masculine, as opposed to woman/feminine. And more than that, as with most binaries, society tends to value one side over the other. Society likes light better than dark, no pineapple on pizza better than pineapple on pizza, and men better than women. And with that hierarchy, we also have all the behaviours that are associated with the two genders.

There is a reason why society tells men that they should be emotionless: because, in society’s eyes, emotions are weakness. Women are emotional, and that’s what makes them weak (or, as I brought up earlier, hysterical and insane). Men are better suited to the world of leadership, protection, and big business because they don’t let emotions get in the way; they are strong. And as women emerge more and more into these fields, they tend not to be accepted for the emotional, vulnerable women that they might have been taught to be from childhood; rather, they are expected to become more like how men are expected to be, hard and emotionless, and even then they will constantly live with society’s doubt that they can be that. For proof of that, look at the fact that, very recently, society posed the doubt that a woman could be as successful a president as a man because when she gets her period, she might PMS and declare war on Germany or something.

Except emotions are not weakness. In fact, if anything, they are a strength.

Having the ability to discuss your emotions can be very healing, and it can be very bonding for two people to discuss their emotions together.

Having the ability to understand the way someone else is feeling and empathize with them allows you to connect with them on a more human level, meaning that I’d argue that having emotions would actually make you better leader, as it makes you want to understand the people that you are leading, as well as the people who could potentially be your enemies.

I may be a weak, manipulative, hysterical, emotional woman to you, but in my own eyes, being an empath is my superpower. It is what has kept me from getting lost in the depths of depression for all time. It is what has helped me understand and love people, rather than give up on them all as cruel or worthless. It is what has made it possible for me to reach out to other people, even help them through difficult times. It is what makes my life worthwhile, and I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for my emotions.

Emotions are a treasure that society looks down on ‘feminine’ people for possessing, when the truth is that they are a gift that should be given to more ‘masculine’ people as well. We treat them as something shameful, as something that should be hidden or ignored, but they are a beautiful, human thing. They have the capability to turn us into better people, and all we need to do to let them is develop and learn about them.

My Life is Mine

I am a person.

I have hands, feet, fingers, toes.

I have teeth, claws, muscle, bone.

I have a soul.

And my soul is mine.

You can reach in and touch my soul, feel it, affect it, make it grow.

But you cannot take my soul.

In your hands, my soul will wither, welt, and die.

I have seen what you have done to souls in your hands.

You change them. You do not make them grow, you keep them stunted. You do not protect them, you conceal them. You do not show them the path, you take them by the hand and make them walk behind you.

I have seen what you have done to her, and she is my fear.

She who has never made her own decision in her life.

She who just took what came to her and accepted.

She who was passive, she who allowed.

I will not be her.

I am a storm, a force to be reckoned with.

I am the maker of plans, the wielder of my own world.

I stand up tall and I say what I will.

I hold my soul out before me and I keep it within my own grasp, because my soul is mine.

And maybe I will fail, but you know what? I want to fail.

I want to skin my knee.

I want to fall down flat on my face, because only by doing that will I find out if I have the strength to pick myself back up.

I need to fail. I need to be scared. I need to cry and suffer and second-guess, because all of that comes with making your own decisions. With doing the thing that isn’t easy.

And I don’t want my life to be easy.

I want it to be mine.