Found this on Big Fat Blog. A woman is writing a book on being female and fat-- self-accepting, not self-accepting, midsize, supersize, every size. She's looking for women to interview and they seem to be coming out in droves, which I think is interesting-- how much we want to share our stories (by the way she says she's interested in everyone, whether or not you think you have a "story" to tell or not).  But we all do, don't we? Has anyone ever grown up with a perceived "difference" and not been wounded by it? Some of those wounds heal well and quickly and the evidence is barely visible, for others the road is long and the scab torn off many time, eventually leaving a large swathe of tough scar tissue, disfigured and without feeling.

Our stories are like prayers. We seek comfort and validation in repeating them, confessing our sins and those perpetrated against us. "I lied to get out of gym class." "I haven't worn shorts since I was nine." "I only have sex with people I'll never see again." "The waiter raised his eyebrows when I ordered dessert." "My mom said nobody'd ever love me."

The irony is that body hatred is so ingrained in us that we'd have to look like Callista Flockhart not to have it. I take that back. The slimmest, most beautiful women have it- not always about their weight, but about something. The size of their hands or the shape of their lips, their slightly crooked front tooth or the way their breasts refuse to stand up quite as straight as they did at sixteen.  Surgery will fix noses, breasts, saggy bellies, and those little pouches of roundness on hips and thighs. Meanwhile there's botox for the forehead and injections for facial creases betraying our age, paint for the face and the fingernails, and dye for the hair. Even if we've done all that, are our teeth white enough? Is our breath fresh enough? Skin soft enough? Do I need feminine odor protection??

As long as we believe that our value lies in our appearance- and even those of us who don't believe that on the surface have been infected with the idea, I think it's impossible to live in this society and be immune to it- we'll always have that "lesser-than" feeling. And as long as women think we have to work on our appearance to maintain or increase our value as a human being, our focus will be on that, instead of on what we ought to be doing, which is taking over the world- and that is the way they like it.

I watch The Apprentice, and it's really driven it home to me that to get ready to appear in the world of business a man has to shower, shave, put on a suit and comb his hair. Meanwhile, the women have to deal with all kinds of elaborate "fixing" of their face, their hair, their jewelry. Just the fact that a woman who appears at a meeting without makeup would stand out like a sore thumb as "unfinished" looking and inappropriate-- it makes me truly crazy to think about it. It's made me realize that I've been taken less seriously in business because I don't wear makeup or the "right" clothes or "do" my hair. It's hurt me professionally, financially, yet I don't know which would be more painful- living with that knowledge or betraying myself by doing what's expected.