Saturday, March 31, 2012

I'm a Hopeless Romantic


I'll be your trophy if you court me well. I'll be the Elizabeth to your Mr. Darcy, so to speak. I'll be that and more if you'll only do something that I won’t forget. Get me something I can’t resist taking. Find me in a moment that’s so tender and so beautifully poetic that if I let you in, you’ll have a bragging right no one else has. Do your homework. Find out what makes me tick. Discover that I love classic literature, and sappy sonnets sweetly composed by Shakespeare himself. Learn that I would much rather wander around the house in my handmade slippers than go anywhere, and if I go out the front door, its to someplace beautiful and tender, sweetly innocent and quiet, somewhere that I can go and not make a sound, because as much as I talk, I think the sound that the wind makes when it hits the leaves is beautiful. I think that the best score is composed by birds and water, crickets and grass, and no one can mimic that. Look inside of me and discover that I still like to color in My Little Pony coloring books while I drink my morning coffee. Realize I’m a giant oxymoron. The grown up child, not the child all grown up. Investigate my life, buy me flowers when you figure it out. Bring me flowers at work, its something that I’ve always longed to have happen, and I’ll brag about it all day. Show up at midnight and whisk me away to some scenic overlook where you quote my favorite play and once you’ve soliloquized eloquently, I’ll look you in the eyes, tears streaming down my face, and whisper “you know”. Because it doesn’t take much to memorize Shakespeare, but to find my favorite soliloquy is a whole different matter.

Ask me about my interests. I may seem like the typical girl, but I’m not and for every girly preppy part in me, there is a separate but equal not so girly and very nerdy part as well. Ask me about my awkwardness, I’ll show you my pet turtle, and his balloons and we’ll move on. Get me to laugh, and I mean really laugh. Because my fake laugh is very typical and boring. But you get me to laugh hard enough and I’ll squeal and snort and you’ll just stare, until finally you give in and start laughing too. 

Talk about life and hopes and dreams and plans under the summer stars with me. When we get cold, snuggle with me, but not in a super obvious manner, because I’m supposed to be denying you. Finally, reach out and kiss me, in the most tender and romantic way possible. Then don’t speak. Don’t say a word, because too often clumsy words ruin elegant moments. 

Then you’ll have me for sure. Heart and Soul I’ll be yours. 

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Just FYI: You Look Fine

Have you ever felt guilty about eating? Like when you put food into your mouth, someone’s going to come along and tell you that you don’t deserve it, that if you keep eating the way you are, you’re going to get fat, and that you take up too much space as it is?

Have you ever looked in the mirror and pinched the extra flab on your body? Pulled it off, convinced that it’ll be gone by next week? Have you ever thought that you’re not as pretty as any of your friends because they have flat stomachs with not an inch of flab and you don’t?

Have you ever felt that you constantly had to watch what you ate, that you couldn’t eat certain foods that had carbs, that you could only eat quarter portions, have you ever stopped eating because you were convinced that was the answer to feeling prettier?

Have you ever thrown up? Stuck your finger down your throat time and time again, until nothing would come up? Have you done this and thought you felt better because of it? Have you ever done this and cried, because you felt trapped by what someone else thought was “pretty”? 

As a girl in today’s society, I, like most other girls, have experienced the feeling of unworthiness that comes with the feelings of not being pretty enough, smart enough, skinny enough…the list goes on. And why do I feel this way sometimes? Because I watch movies where instead of embracing fully figured females, they are usually the ridiculed character. I open the magazine that comes in the mail every month, and read countless tips on how to lose weight, how to get better hair, better skin, how to put on make up in the newest “sexiest” way. And I feel like I’m not good enough. Because I’m not as pretty as any of those girls. I feel like I don’t have the charm that they have, or their fast metabolisms, and that somehow, I’m going to end up in a gutter because they have the good looks the world wants and I don’t.

“But then I remember he who created me”.

God made me in his image, in his own, perfect image. And that means that I’m perfect the way that I am. I don’t have to wear a pound of make up, or starve myself or wear my hair in the latest style, because I’m already beautiful. I’ve learned that if you have confidence and believe in yourself, you’re already ten times prettier than the girl who doesn’t. 

You don’t have to feel guilty about eating, or feel fat, unworthy or like you’re not pretty just because you don’t look like the girls the media likes to exploit. Because God made everyone of all shapes and sizes, and that’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. Without us, without the people that look normal, the world would be a horribly boring place to live. 

So don’t succumb to the “I’m not good enough” monster. Because it’s a liar. 

Just FYI: You look fine.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

I am Woman, Hear Me Roar.

I shouldn't have to burn a bra, stage a protest, or boycott something to have my opinions made. I shouldn't have to worry about not getting equal wages as a man even though we have the same amount of schooling. I shouldn't have to face judgement because I want to keep my last name. I shouldn't be considered weak, less intelligent, or a bad driver because of my gender.

If I choose to love a woman, people shouldn't think that it's because I'll appear more attractive that way. When I do something drastic because I want to make myself happy, I shouldn't have to worry about people thinking it's only because I'm a woman and therefore, trying to make a scene. If I hang out with boys all the time, I shouldn't have to worry about being labeled as a "slut" or some other negative term when men who hang out with only women acquire names with only positive connotations.

My education should be equal to my pay. I should not be expected to settle down and have kids. I should be allowed to be independent, and should not need a man to do things for me.

Doing things "like a girl" should not be a bad thing, because according to scientific studies, in some areas, girls perform better (let's start with pain tolerance. Once men are bearing the children, they can label me as much as they want). I shouldn't have to flirt to get a job, and I shouldn't have to use my appearance to get hired, either.

I should be granted equality, to the full letter of the law, and I should be allowed to be proud of the fact that I am a young woman. I shouldn't have to deal with the oppressiveness that's "gone away" because saying that women's rights are no longer an issue is like saying racism doesn't exist in America. And we all know that we are a country of remarkable racism.

So let me be proud of my gender. Let me be proud of the things that women accomplish everyday and don't underestimate me because I'm a woman.