My body is my temple.

Woah, there. Took a little bit of a blogging break... a bleak (pronounced, blake) if you will... but now I'm back and ready to... type. I only have three days left of this damn challenge, a 25 day challenge that has taken me, oh, just shy of 3 months, but don't judge me. I'm trying to put some thought into this bitch.

Day 23 - Your biggest regret.

Originally, I was going to go in a completely different direction for this challenge and write about something that goes hand-in-hand with my last post about college... Regretting not going to a "real" 4 year college. That is one of a few things I regret, but it's definitely towards the top of the list. However, after having a conversation with my sister about body image, and visiting this tumblr, I've decided on a completely different topic...

My biggest regret is giving in to societies view of what a beautiful woman is.

If you're a girl, any girl, chances are you've given in too, and the outcome has been a life long struggle to love and accept yourself. Quite possibly the hardest battle to fight, and one that is often never won.

If you're anything like me you may spend a ridiculous amount of time staring at yourself in the mirror pinching and nit picking at every single imperfection on your body, all the while the little voice in the back of your head utters, "Oh, when did Shamu show up?" Then you start imagining every anorexic celebrity people have deemed as "hot" and start comparing yourself to them. "Ugh, if only I had Angelina's boobs..." or, "If I stop eating I can totally look like Natalie Portman!" Then, defeated, you eventually force yourself to stop looking in the mirror and walk away while you continue to subconsciously cry and feel exceptionally self loathing. "Stupid bitches... ruin it for the rest of us. How can I possibly compare to them!"

I've been trying to stop this horrible pattern of self destruction. If I think I look particularly nice in an outfit I will try to tell myself how pretty I look. Or, like today, when I'm second guessing what I've put on I'll simply repeat, "I'm beautiful. I'm beautiful. I'm beautiful," until I force myself to leave it on and continue with my life. But if I could just learn how to accept myself, flaws and all, if I could just learn to like myself, to possibly see what others have seen in me, my life would be so much easier.

I regret becoming the stereotypical, "does this dress make me look fat," girl. Have I really become so vain that my life depends on how I look to others? None of that should matter. I don't even begin to judge my friends as harshly as I judge myself. I even disagree with most of the negative stuff my girl friends have said about themselves. Each and every one of us has our own unique beauty, and just because you're not 75 lbs and barbie tan that doesn't make you ugly. Not one bit.

But most of us can't see past the outside, and some men only make it worse. I've listened to my male friends talk about how gross fat girls are, I've listened to the fat jokes, the ugly jokes, the flat chested jokes and I've absolutely taken notice of who they call hot. Who hasn't? It all stays locked inside your mind and it makes you terrified of what they say about you. It makes you wonder if the ugly or fat jokes have ever been directed towards you, and it makes you crazy. It makes you strive to be rail thin with a plastic surgery face... It makes you scared to get into a bathing suit where everyone can clearly see your cellulite and stretch marks. It's a horrible hell most women live in, one we've put ourselves into by caring what the rest of the world thinks.

I want to be content with myself, but I'm also terrified of being viewed as conceited. I've had people compliment me before. I've been told I was "hot" or "beautiful." Guys have had crushes on me, and girls have openly told me the things they are jealous of me for. Yet somehow, I still can't come to terms with myself and my image. And it's not even that I'm brushing off the compliments. I get excited like a 6 year old every single time I get a compliment or someone hits on me. There's a boost of confidence every single time, but like a drug it wears off and I'm left thinking, "Well they liked how I looked then not necessarily how I look now," even if it happened earlier in the day.

My boyfriend is wonderful for my self esteem, and it means the world to me that he tries to help me get through this. I love that to him I am beautiful, I am what he wants, but it hurts him every time I put myself down. I make sarcastic comments all the time about my appearance. I even rely on him to tell me whether or not an outfit looks okay because I don't trust my own judgment. He has helped me very significantly these past 2 and half years, whether I show it or not, but I still have that awful voice inside my head that's putting me down every... single... second of the day.

So my goal for myself before I die, is to someday be able to look at myself and love what I see. I want to try not to take what others say to heart, and I want to be able to ignore what society is telling me is beautiful. I mean, hell, in the past it was desirable to be a heavier, pale woman. Even in the 50s it was okay to have curves. Now, everyone wants xylophone ribs, a noticeable spine, zero percent body fat with a DD cup size. But unless you starve yourself, or have a crazy metabolism and some fantastic genes, that's not going to happen.

Like I said before, we are all beautiful in one way or another. Even if I'm not the most physically attractive girl in the world I still have a pretty decent personality. I have a brain, that I use, I'm musical and artistic... and I'm a pretty decent mix of girly-girl and tom-boy. I could design you a bad ass logo, write and perform a song, debate with you on politics and ethics, wear 6 inch heals, keep up with you on a snowboard, verse you at a video game, change a tire, and wear a dress ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Well, maybe not... but you get what I'm saying here. I have to learn that thinking I'm a good, beautiful person is not necessarily me being narcissistic, it's me trying not to sabotage my own mental health with my pessimistic self image.

Someday, I will like myself. And someday I wont have to regret succumbing to the views of society. But for now... I'll just take it one day at a time.

You Fake Bitch.

Please Note Before reading this post: I am one of the biggest feminists I know, so please don't think that I am in any way belittling my sex.

I was torn with what subject this blog was going to focus on. At first, I was all gung-ho (sp?) with the idea of writing about a drug busting turtle ... "Is there any chance that the turtle was stoned?" (God I love fox news), but then something sparked a new idea. I really have no clue where this came from...

I once saw a bit on a Chris Rock comedy special about how women are liars, physically. It made me laugh pretty hard because I knew it was true. He talked about all the little things you could change in order to make yourself better. For some reason this morning, that bit popped into my head again. Good god, Chris Rock, how right you are.


Women can change the following with out any surgery at all:

Boobs: Just slap on a padded bra or get some fancy silicone breast implants then BAM, even the flattest of girls will appear to have a little bit of cleavage!

Height: Don't wanna be short? Put on some damn heels bitch!

Hair color and length: You can be any color of the rainbow, just dye it. And if you want longer hair.... just get some extensions. You can even kill 2 birds with one stone and get COLORED hair extensions.

Eyelashes: Even if you have small, thin eyelashes all you have to do is get some fake ones.

Weight/Shape: They sell corsets for that shit, man. Not even the "sexy lingerie" ones. They have underwear that can sinch your waist, belly and thighs. AND they have bathing suits that can do the same thing.

Skin: Concealer and foundation are your best friend if your skin is too red or has too much acne. AND! If you're not tan enough just go grab some tan-in-a-can or go to a tanning bed.

Dude, what the hell is this shit? You can become a completely different person just by going to Wal-Mart. It's unfortunate that girls are under so much pressure to look good that even YOUR EYELASHES aren't good enough. Not that I'm against any of these things really... I'm guilty of being a "liar." I wear padded bras. Hell! I even have the stupid boob insert things. Though I don't wear them too often because I feel insanely fake and misleading when I do. My hair color is different every other day. Fake eyelashes? Yeah I have those... Corsets? I have about 10. I'm guilty of using tan-in-a-can (or tube). Concealer and foundation are my best friends, and people are shocked when I wear flats because they are so used to my heels.

It's a shame that we are so pressured to look good that we hide under a mask of fake. I wish I was comfortable enough with myself to be able to look at my naked, make-upless self and think "God damn, I'm hot!" but you know, that's never gunna happen. I'll continue to buy all the stupid little gimmicky products that claim I'll look like all the hot celebrates. Unfortunately, the older I get, the more I'll start to hide behind all the fake, materialistic bullshit... and so will everyone else.

All this got me thinking about how fucked guys are. It's not socially acceptable for them to change their appearance the way women change theirs. If a guy wore heels, they'd be gay. Fake eyelashes? Gay. Makeup? Gay. If they stuffed their crotches or if someone made a crazy silicone dick insert and some guy wore it, they'd be teased to no end. It's like guys, as big of liars as they are, are forced by society to be honest... at least physically. Even the most hideous of women can be made up to look insanely hot *cough*morganweb*cough*, but if you're an ugly, acne-prone, short guy...sorry, society says you can't make yourself look better. Very strange.

Society is confusing. Gender rolls are confusing. And the media is the devil.