What feminists are secretly dreaming of...

“Young women – our friend or foe?” I recall Carie Bradshaw asking herself this question in one of the episodes of “Sex and the City”.

Recently, I've been thinking about generation gap between women. It seems like for whatever reason many older women feel threatened by younger women. "Threatened" might be too strong of a word here, but the idea of husbands abandoning their wives for younger women is present in almost every country on the planet. 

I have often witnessed women looking with nostalgia at younger girls… as if those bad hairstyles from their 20s were really something to be missed.  I see the longing for youth in my private life, but I also see the often exaggerated version of it in our stories, TV series and movies. Take fairytale about Snow White for example, or movie “Catwoman”. In so many stories there is an evil women, that is so terrified of losing her beauty and youth that she is ready to harm other, younger women. What we don’t see though is the probability that when Snow White grows to be 40 or 50 she will turn into the same evil women her step mother was.

Are these evil characters to be blamed for their evilness? Of course, we should never kill anyone or harm in any other way. I was thinking should we really blame women for their fear of aging and desperation that many of them feel about inevitable end of their youthful charms?

If you are a woman and you grew up on the same planet as me, you probably feel it on more or less conscious level that the most important thing that a girl can be is “beautiful”. You felt it at school, you felt it during family meetings, on holidays, while reading a magazine, while shopping, while meeting up with your girl friends. You felt that the pretty girls always attract attention first and for that reason, at some point of your life wished you were more beautiful. 

Now, unless you look like a goddess, you can probably agree with some of the above. Looks are not everything, but we all know that in current scenario we can be as successful as we want to be, but our weight, wrinkles or wardrobe will not escape the watchful gazes of our friends, colleagues and family. Positive attention gives illusion of power and for that reason when we feel invisible, we feel somehow powerless. This happens to our moms and grandmas, if we don’t take any action, it will happen to us. Getting old doesn't have to feel bad.

It’s sad that we live in the world that is hammering the image of “perfect beauty” into our heads wherever we go. The images of perfectly skinny, blemishless, young women follow us like a shadow. We all know it, we all feel it. You see, even in the era of Photoshop you can be lucky enough to be born with a body type of a model. It’s rare, but it happens. Plus we have make up, we can cover the occasional pimple and still feel fine, but even make up has its limitations. With all creams, pills, diets, operations and cosmetic procedures, there is no way we can escape our old age, erase all wrinkles, stop our body from going through natural process of aging.

Aging woman is hardly ever a symbol of wisdom, or symbol of anything for that matter, older women are not shown to us on TV or in magazines, they are invisible. Can you recall when was the last time you have seen 60 something women on the news as guest or show host? Women, just like men, have more and more to say as they gain experience with age, yet we don’t hear from them very often. Instead, pretty much all women over 20 are depicted as desperate to turn back the clock and be 20 again. (It’s actually ridiculous that I started this article with quote from fictional 30 year old women who already thought girls in their 20s might be her foe! As if 30 was already old!)

It’s incredibly sad how our culture treats older women, as if they were invisible or not good enough for our eyes. The same with obese women or short women – they are all treated like they are not good enough to be shown in our media. 

For example, it is utterly hypocritical how we look at pregnant women with joy and respect, but as soon as they give birth it’s like they don’t have any excuse for that big post pregnancy belly. All moms are supposed to quickly hit the gym to go back to their pre-baby body asap. Images of post pregnancy celebrities are again feeding us guilt about our body after birth. Internet is full of articles about "how to get your body back", as if women lost something. You gave birth and put on some weight, don’t be lazy or too happy, work that body girl!!! Sweat till you injure your recently torn vagina! One would think that at least mothers that we supposedly respect so much would have some time off from the body guilt game, but noooo…. Happy women who are ok with their body means no good business.

I have two brothers; one is 6 years younger than me. During her last pregnancy, my mom has put on a lot of weight and has been trying to get rid of it since I remember. Her dieting sent me a clear message – something is wrong with my mom’s body. Magazines and TV quickly provided me with the answer. My mom, with her body type, post pregnancy fat and stretch marks is not considered beautiful.

What a shame! After I realized that my perception of beauty is created by images that surround me I noticed how much of it is clearly wrong! The beauty culture that we see today is designed to keep majority of women, me and my mom included, desperate to change their body. Do I have to explain how extremely profitable is keeping women in constant need of magic diet pills, slimming creams and anti –aging creams?

For our own sake, we, women need to redefine beauty. My mom’s body is beautiful. She sacrificed her flat belly, perky breasts and tight vagina for me, for my existence. Isn't it amazing? I am responsible for at least 1/3 of these stretch marks! Looking at her from perspective of gratefulness is amazing. Her body produced my body.

This sentence should have the power to close all generation gap. Older women should be proud, not anxious, looking at younger women – relaxing in the idea that we literally came out of their bodies. And this pride should not be directed only to mothers. Women before me made my amazing life possible. I have tones of opportunities and it’s only thanks to them. They are pioneers who came before us, and they have awful lot to be proud of. My mother gave me my body, but there are countless women that I’m thankful for, because they have fought for me, for my rights that I enjoy so much today.

I’m an atheist and I attach my creation to the fact that my parents fucked, not to divine intervention of any god. There is surely something divine about it, but I prefer to thank my parents for my life, not god. I wish my mom could take full half of the credit for my creation and rejoice in the fact, that my young body is extension of her own body. 

I wish we could slowly create a culture where women take immense pride in growing older. I mean, it’s not easy to get old, just imagine all the stupid things you did when you were in college, or imagine how many people die in car accidents or from heart disease, it’s not as easy to grow old as we think it is… But I digress, where was I….

It isn’t true that feminists dream of dominating men. I am a feminist and one of my biggest feminist fantasies is women celebrating femininity. I want to see more women being supportive of each other. One of the feminist goals is creating society were women are friends, allies; not envious, vicious enemies, fighting for men or those few CEO positions. See, it’s not only about being equal with men, but also about being equal with each other, women to women. Without thinking which one of us is more capable to attract a male based on our beauty or age. “Sisterhood”, this word is so beautiful and yet sounds so… uncomfortable compared to “brotherhood”.

Perhaps dreams of sisterhood are not so uncommon if you look at the appeal of shows about female friendships, like “Sex and The City” or my favorite one, “The Golden Girls”. I have a feeling that we all secretly dream of heaving group of female friends where we could feel fully accepted. We all dream of some kind of women’s club where we could celebrate femininity more often than once, twice a year while choosing prom dress or wedding dress.

The only reason of writing this post was to express my mixed feelings about the way we currently perceive aging women and how women interact with each other. Beauty standards and pressure to be beautiful is disrupting completion of secret feminist “Sisterhood Project" and I dream of the time when we put those standards behind us, giving space to more inclusive and realistic idea of beauty.

Written by Innana

and inspired by "The Beauty Myth" by Naomi Wolf

My Big Fat Happy Life

Unknowingly we started “Positive Body Image Month”. Inanna shared her story of growing up with the negative view of her body and now it’s my turn.

I am a big girl. Not to say, that I am independent and I can handle myself, I mean I am BIG. Let’s say it: I am fat. (pause for the dramatic effect and to see your reactions…)

I can bet that most of you created the whole speech to me that I shouldn’t say that, that probably I am exaggerating and that it’s not that bad. Virtually, I cannot say that I am fat.

And you see, this is a problem number one. Fat people are not allowed to admit that they are fat. We are not allowed to say that we are fat and that we are happy with it. Especially women. Because all women should strive for this wasp/Barbie/unattainable body shape and they simply cannot just stop and enjoy their life, even if they are fat.

Some of you will give millions of examples of fat people who are nice, funny and happy. And here we have problem number two: fat people are not just people. Somehow we cannot be just funny and nice or angry and sad. We are always "fat and funny", "fat and nice", "fat and angry". As if our body defined our behaviour.

I’ve heard it all. I know how I look and I know that I have way to many kilograms altogether. But I don’t mind. By saying “I’m fat” I don’t expect pity. I don’t expect confirmation or refusal of my statement. I don’t expect to be comforted that “it’s not that bad”. I just want people to accept that I am fat, I know that I’m fat, I will say that I am fat and I will be happy with my body.

There. I said it.

It wasn’t easy, it took me ages to understand the whole problem with fat people. The problem is not that we are plum or round or curvy. Problem is that word “fat” became so pejorative, that we've become so scared to even think that we are what we are. And despite our efforts if we came to that conclusion and the world around us confirms our fears, we have to feel bad about it and we must want to change it!

Well, screw this. I won’t change. Not for the sake of adjusting to the modern perception of beauty.

I was always a plum child. I was always the fattest in the class. I was slow, I wasn’t good at sport (even though I was swimming, playing tennis, etc.) and I was never considered pretty. I grew to hate my body and hate myself for how I looked. I envied my friends so much that they are thin, because everybody around me made me feel like less successful person and a student. I was fat so I couldn’t be as promising as they are!

The truth is, I was one of the best students. I am freaking smart. I’ve always been. But I was frequently compared to other good students and I didn’t stand a chance against them, because I was fat and they were not.

And if you think about it, there is very little successful fat people shown in movies. There is this tendency for depicting fat people as lazy, annoying, obsessed with something (either food or money or power) or silly, harmless, "normal" quiet people. There is very little extraordinary and unique fat that saved the world or were just rulers. Fat people rarely are perceived as hero material.

When I was 15, I started dieting. I wasn’t that reckless as my other friends, I had quite considerate, well-balanced diet, I exercised every day. And I lost 15kg within 2 years (I know it was slow, but that’s how it was). I was within normal BMI, but my body wasn’t perfect. My legs where to short and crooked, my thighs were to wide, my belly had this roll of skin that I didn’t like. During this 2 years, each day I was standing in front of the mirror, sucking my belly in and I saying: “I wish I had belly like this”. Each day. And even though I got thinner with each month, I still wasn’t happy.

One day it hit me. I will never be happy with how I look. Because I am not perfect and I could never be perfect. It’s unattainable. My friends who were thin, they have it easy. I didn’t. Not with my body type. I will always be far from perfection.

Probably if I hadn’t have this epiphany, I would became anorexic. There was a moment when I didn’t want to eat, because I was afraid that I will gain weight and I will lose it all.

I quit dieting and I was amazingly happy. Full and happy. Without the need for worrying what to eat and when. Happy happy happy! 

I gained some weight, but I still was normal. However, at the time I got diabetes. I gained few to many kilograms due to poor management at the onset of my illness. Currently I am eating healthy, I cut my carbohydrates intake, if I want sweets I go for dark chocolate or dry fruits. I bake cakes with coconut flour and stevia. I eat lean meat. I use coconut or olive oil for cooking. My meals are composed in 2/5 of vegetables, 2/5 of meat and 1/5 of carbs. I have a medium activity, I walk a lot and I do pole dancing and Irish dancing once a week. But I'm still fat.

Here is the problem number three. Fat people, in the minds of others, cannot be fat and maintain healthy lifestyle. It just doesn't add up. If you eat healthy food and exercise, why are you fat? 

Well, life is a bitch, I can tell you that. For me, it takes me a month to lose 3-4kg, but one day of "sinning" is enough for me to have terrible sugar levels and subsequently gain 1kg. 

I cannot overstate the fact that I don't mind being fat. What bothers me is the assumptions, attitudes, perceptions, uneasiness and stereotypes.

The discrimination against fat people is a real thing and it is damaging. You have no idea how big of a deal is my body to other people. As if my body is on a public display to comment or ignore. I heard zillion “caring” comments about my body. And since I am fat and I am not worrying about it, it gave people the impression that they can say to me whatever they want.

On each family gathering, there is at least one aunty who comments that I am fat. But I look happy, so it’s not that bad.

That if I lose weight, boys will like me. Don’t I want to have a boyfriend and be happy? (Obviously I cannot be happy without a boyfriend).

Or when people found out that I was single, I always heard: Ohh... Nobody wants you? (Obviously I cannot just be single and be happy when I'm fat).

There is so many things wrong with this picture...
What kind of moron created this?

For crying out loud, I get my undergrad in UK, I have my Masters from Ireland, I travelled the world, I did volunteering, I participated in countless courses and workshops. I have so many amazing stories to tell and experiences to share, I have wonderful friends all over the world, but still the biggest news is whether I lost or gained weight.

I am not saying that if you are fat, you should just accept that and not do anything with this. There is always an issue of health. There are some diseases that are more evident in obese people and are more dangerous to you, when you are fat. However, health should be the only reason for wanting to change one’s body. One and only reason.

But I will never ever do it again to be thin. I don’t care about being thin. I don’t mind being fat. I love my body and few more kilograms doesn’t bother me.

Because being fat is nothing bad. I can say it now with full confidence: I am fat and I am happy!

Written by Vespertilio

My Body Image Tortures

The first time I remember telling myself my stomach was too fat I was around 10 years old. Unfortunately for me, my brain got sort of stuck there and didn’t move on ever since then. Back in my teenage years I had no idea how common this problem was, I thought it’s just me wanting my stomach to be little bit more flat and the rest of the girls – they all look perfect, so they most probably feel perfect too.

The years of constantly worrying about how my body looks really drained me. And you know what? I realized that as long as I tie my happiness to my waist line, I will never feel good enough. Because there will always be one centimeter more that I could lose, right?

Today we talk a lot about loving our body the way it is, but aren’t we all falling into a trap of looking into the mirror to tell our body “I love you” and ending up planning new exercise routine? Or is it just me?! “Accepting my body? Just like that? No excuses? But here is a little bit I could improve and I should really start exercising again, and fuck sake, have to stop eating sweets!!!” – That’s my typical thought process.

I started paying attention to my body quite early and I still have a long way to go to just relax and enjoy my life without worrisome looks into the mirror. When I was in 4^th or 5^th grade I had a “diet diary”, when I found it recently I was shocked and thanked myself, that I was never really able to stick to this “food plans” I have been making for myself. Here’s one example of how I used to imagine my perfect food day:

Breakfast: 1 plain toast

Snack: apple

Lunch: whatever they make me eat, no second helpings (my family eats lunch together)

Snack: water

Dinner: tomato cucumber salad

Isn’t it terrifying? It sounds completely sadistic. No teenager should restrict their food this way. If I had continued such “diet” I would most probably end up anorexic. What’s more important, as a young girl I shouldn’t have been worrying about my stomach size!!! I shouldn’t have been thinking about diets and exercising. Kids should be discovering the world, studying, playing with friends, reading mind opening books (or even stupid books! Vespertilio), enjoying their life – not thinking how they look like or what people think about their body.

It makes me sad to think how much time I have wasted thinking about my body, worrying needlessly. Did I mention, I was never really fat? Maybe when I started puberty I got a bit chubby, but I never really crossed my proper body weight!!!

I wish when I was growing up someone would show me, that how I look is the least important thing now. I wish someone would have told me “BEING THIN DOESN’T GIVE YOU POWER”. Self confidence that comes from weight loss is temporary. After initial thrill you’re back to square one.  I wish when I was growing up first and most common compliment wasn’t “oh, you are so pretty, you look so slim”.

Instead, I grew up looking up to my mother who was constantly trying to lose weight after birth of my younger brother. It’s not a story of how angry I am with my mom, not at all. It’s a story of connecting and sympathizing with other women, including my mother. Back in 1996 standards of beauty were not any less harsh and demanding for ladies, even after having a baby. Of course, it’s not only my mother and other women that I knew who had influenced me. Most of all, it was this perfect unrealistic women staring at me from TV and magazines, alternating how I see myself. I haven’t fully realized it until I watched “Killing ussoftly” documentary.

I’m now 23 and I still live with my own double standards. Even today, I like the feeling of no fat around my waist line, but I slowly grow to appreciate my feminine curves and I acknowledge that I’ll have more of them as I age, its nature. Today I look at my legs and I like them the way they are, no thigh gap, I like them to look strong! It’s an improvement! Hope my brain will evolve and allow me to end this body image tortures I’ve been going through for past 13 years.

Talking about it helps, although it’s scary to write about it - I hate admitting my weaknesses! Perhaps if more of us would talk honestly and openly about our body image problems we would realize that in today’s world it’s a universal human experience to doubt if we are beautiful.  I’m still on my way to liberation and official not-giving-a-fuck about size of my body, but I’m getting there!!! 

Every story shared by other women online helps, so maybe… write about your experience too? ;) 

Written by Inanna