I got to thinking about “thinspiration.” I cannot classify that as a real word. After hearing news that Kate Upton, the beautiful, slightly curvaceous (curvy to the industry’s ridiculous standards) model is “fat.” The blog, Skinny Gossip, claims that Kate Upton is “piggy.” So I had to rant.
These so-called “thinspiration” blogs make me mad. No, they make me disappointed. The industry has changed its ideal form of beauty in the last decade or so. If you’ve ever watched the original Beverly Hills 90210 (no not the crappy CW version), you’ve seen how the sizes of actresses have changed. Jennie Garth wasn’t rail thin, and certainly looked normal, and she was the queen bee.
So what has changed in the last ten years? I’d like to give the credit to pro-anorexia blogs. But I think it’s more about perception of self. If we stopped and looked at ourselves in the mirror occasionally, without judgment, we would see something beautiful. But that comes with acceptance. It isn’t necessary to be rail thin. In fact, I would argue that it takes much more courage to flaunt a body that isn’t just flesh and bone. And when you can do that, whatever size you are, that is when you’ll find your confidence, your sense of self. And those are the people we should celebrate. End of rant.
I got to thinking about the place where I am free. This is a place others may not always understand. This is my special place. And we all have one. Sometimes it takes us years to find this place. If we are so lucky, we will find this place as children. And we will keep it. We will fight for it. We won’t ever give it up. That shows our bravery, our courage.
For me, this place is buried deep within my soul. This is the place where my thoughts are examined, where my heart understands my head, and where my full identity can come out. And I was lucky enough to find this place as a child. I knew I loved storytelling from the days of playing Barbies. As a writer, like with any career, there are obstacles I will have to endure. But the end goal is way too spectacular to give up: to be called a published writer. And it’s not just the goal that matters; the journey should be celebrated. After all, this is the place where I am free.
I got to thinking about being young. Youth is wasted on the young, let’s be real. We don’t realize how spectacular and simple our childhoods are until it’s over. We take being young for granted. As for myself, I’ve always been an old soul, but I somehow cannot seem to get over the fact that my childhood is over. Why did I complain about it? How charmed, it was. And now, here I am, wishing to turn back the clock. But we cannot turn back time. And I honestly believe that is one of the scariest things about growing up. We realize that being young was a perfect moment in time that’ll never occur again. But if we’re so lucky, we may someday experience that youthfulness again. That’s what families are for.
I got to thinking about endings. You’ve all heard the saying: when one chapter closes, another one begins. We must finish one chapter to start another. Sometimes, though, we don’t want to close a chapter to begin the new one. I’ve had wonderful experiences in my life that I didn’t ever want to end. It was heartbreaking moving on, but somehow, I made it through. Then there are those experiences we all wish would end. And fast. We want to begin anew. But what I’ve realized recently is that we cannot rush things. Time is the same for good and bad experiences. We must learn from our bad experiences and savor deeply our good experiences. After all, there’s always going to be another spectacular chapter waiting for us.
I got to thinking about fate. Is everything already planned out for us? Do we have choices? Make choices? Want choices? Should we take the path that’s offered and hold on tight? Or should we walk where there isn’t a path and follow our hearts? Or do our hearts have our best intentions already, leading us to the end of the road? But maybe, just maybe, there is a bend in the road. We have to decide. Will we follow our fate? Or will we change direction, just for a moment, or for a lifetime, to see what is around the bend? Is that what life is about?
I got to thinking about secrecy. Why do we keep things from those close to us? Are we afraid that they’ll judge us? Get rid of us like an old television set from the 90s? Being an open book doesn’t necessary work for everyone; sometimes secrets keep things interesting. But sometimes secrets can ruin relationships. There’s quite a difference between withholding information and forgetting to mention something important. But where do we draw the line? How do we know where this line ceases and begins? What I’ve come to understand is that secrecy can alter things in ways we never anticipated. We don’t have to tell everyone everything. However, we must tell those we love the things that can change our lives’. If we don’t, we are not only being unfair to ourselves, living in denial, but also to those close to us.
I got to thinking about annoyances. I get annoyed easily. And I’m not saying that’s a good quality; but it’s a fact. Little things have always bothered me: gum popping, not throwing away things immediately, stopping in the middle of a walkway. But I got to thinking that I am choosing to be annoyed. I don’t think I will ever be cured of these annoyances, per se, but I can make myself tolerate them a little bit more. Thinking about things that annoy me just irritates me that much more. So for those things that annoy me, now more than ever, I will stop and push those thoughts out. Being annoyed is rather annoying, after all.
I got to thinking about strength. Not the kind of strength we fight for at the gym, lifting weights and taking classes that make us queasy. This kind of strength is greater than that; this kind of strength comes from within, and must be enacted during the worst of times. Being strong, holding on, makes us better, makes us able to get on with life. We must be strong. For this kind of strength is what separates us from the weak. Strength is not about luck. Strength is practiced every day. Life is much easier when we are strong. And when we are, there’s always something spectacular around the bend.
I got to thinking about marriage. I recently read an article about marriage. This article showed that young people, in my age group and older, aren’t as keen about marriage as they once were. These people studied explained that marriage then baby isn’t necessarily the norm anymore. And you know what? That’s a shame. Call me old-school: but I like the institution of marriage. I respect it. Marriage means you can’t give up at the drop of a hat, even if sometimes that seems like the only choice. We shouldn’t be degrading marriage; we should be celebrating it. Yes, divorce is all over the media and in our loved ones lives’, but next time you hear divorce, think about those who actually make it. Those people are to be commended, for marriage has once again proved itself. And it will again and again.
I got to thinking about things coming easy. In our lives we will try many things ranging from riding a bike to driving a car to passing a stressful exam like the MCAT. And sometimes these things are easy. We hear the success stories about those people who reach their destination right away. But what we don’t hear: those stories that aren’t quite a success. And they’re out there. We don’t like to talk about these stories because they’re flawed, different, and confusing. But we should. Things aren’t always easy the first time. Or the second. Or the third. But what I’ve come to discover after many miss-falls and attempts that we mustn’t give up. Things can’t always be easy. And that’s hard to understand, yes, but it also makes those trials and tribulations that much more rewarding when we finally get it right.