Impossible ideals plague women

All women face the same impossible aesthetic standards and have
experienced pain when these standards cannot be met.

But we don’t lift one another up and remind each other
that we do not have to meet these standards to be successful, happy
or loved. Instead, we vindictively tear other women down to cope
with our own insecurities and the fact that we can’t compare
to women on the covers of magazines (who are airbrushed by the way)
or to gaunt starlets in movies and television.

As I walk to my classes, I seldom see men checking out women,
but instead see women sizing up other women, shooting each other
looks of condescension or rushing past each other to avoid having
the inevitable thought, “Why can’t I look like
her?” I know what these women are doing because I do it all
the time.

You see her walking by and you think, “Well, she’s
pretty but her nose is too big, and her legs are really thick
““ was that cellulite?” Or often it plays out like,
“Wow, she is amazingly beautiful. I hate her. I will never
look like that.” At other times we stoop to an all-time low
as we think,”I’m actually really cute in comparison to
her.”

Why are we doing this?

Why are we constantly cutting each other down?

Every time we size ourselves up against other girls, we check to
see if we are more attractive than they are, which in turn enables
us to cut them down. We can be overcome by feelings that come with
the realization that we’ll never quite fit the aesthetic
ideal society has forced upon us.

And I don’t know why we do it. We meaning women, meaning
you, meaning me. Why do we tear each other down with a look, or a
comment or a silent thought to ourselves?

We’ve grown up looking at magazines, television and
movies, since the day we could distinguish ourselves as unique, as
separate from men. It has been ingrained in our minds that we
should be tall, but not too tall, inconceivably thin, and above all
““ beautiful. But according to our guide, which was graciously
given to us by a patriarchal society and perpetuated by our
inability to dismiss it, our teeth will never be straight or white
enough, our hair will always be too dark or too curly, and our look
will be too “ethnic” and not sufficiently blonde.

Every now and then, I’m actually happy to look like
myself. I feel satisfied and at ease in my own skin. However, these
feelings are constantly met with opposition reminding me that I
should not be satisfied with the way I look because men, women and
society want me to be different. They want me to look different, to
have an emaciated body with a winning smile ““ an impossible
ideal that I will never be able to attain.

The mass media and the unrealistic images of beauty they project
are false and will inevitably be, if they are not already, our
demise. We buy into what they are selling ““ a male-dominated
society instructing women how to be the ideal. Incessant images
reminding you of your inadequacy and that tell men “this is
what a real woman looks like.” These images create impossible
standards which result in overwhelming numbers of women with eating
disorders and obesity and self-mutilation problems. Because thin
equals love and beauty equals happiness, these standards will make
you whole, right?