Some thoughts on thoughts on body image.

Yesterday, I went bookstore browsing briefly, planning to buy the second book in the Twilight series. It wasn't available where I was, so I just got something else. I picked up the book Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters, which I have been meaning to read ever since it came out, and which has gotten rave reviews in a variety of circles, read the blurbs on the back from folks like Arianna Huffington, and put it back down.

I think the problem is that with all my education, it feels cliche to be worried about eating disorders. We all know what we are supposed to think about our bodies. We are supposed to love them. We are not supposed to feel bad about them. We are supposed to eat when we are hungry, give into that craving, exercise because it feels good. But the truth is that's really hard to do, and there are about a million factors going into how we feel about our physical selves. I remember a time when I could write honestly that I didn't feel inferior when I looked in a magazine and saw nothing but slim models. That time, unfortunately, is long gone. Somewhere in the middle of college, it disappeared. I'm still wondering how exactly that transformation took place, but sometime in 2002 I became yet another woman in this world who doesn't see food or an exercise machine or a thin girl in a coffee shop for what they are, but for what they mean for me.

So I think part of the reason I've been putting off reading Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters is that I feel like I know the score. And that is just another way of saying that I'm in denial. Part of me doesn't want to read about the tyranny of the diet industry because I still buy into it, or to read about how fucked up our society is about weight and beauty and thinness, because I am afraid of how much that will reflect my own beliefs. I thought about this yesterday as I gingerly replaced the book on the shelf, and instead picked up a copy of Oliver Sacks' Musicophilia.

This morning, I read a short excerpt in the Utne Reader from Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters. I do think parts of it are the old saw. But I am really trying to think about it, and I think we need the old saw. I hate it when I see my smart, funny, beautiful women friends reading shit like Glamour and Cosmo, even though I forgive myself for reading Lucky and Self. (Because, you know, these are body-positive magazines in my head.) I hate feeling ambivalent every time I eat a meal. I hate that my male friends think it's weird when I talk about this, but all date thin women. I hate that for women, our bodies are inseparable from our shopping habits, our social lives, our careers, whatever. I hate that this is considered a "women's issue." It all drives me crazy. So I am going to go back and buy that book and read it, and hopefully it challenges me as much as I hope it will.

Our all-or-nothing nation is built on foundations of fantasy. Our imaginations are harnessed to America’s favorite adolescent fantasy: how much prettier, thinner, richer, and more successful we will be one day. This perpetual American daydream is written in the language of “somedays.” Someday whispers us to sleep at night, gets us through a boring workday, makes our little lives bearable. The hundreds of ads the average American sees every day brainwash us into believing that we need more shiny, new things and, of course, food—glorious piles of chocolate chip cookies, decadent ice cream, burgers the size of elephants. “Someday” soothes insecurities, numbs discomfort, and keeps perfect girls running obediently in the hamster wheel of preoccupation with their weight. Someday we will be thin. Translation: Someday we will be happy, loved, and powerful.

--Courtney E. Martin

(from the Utne Reader, via Feministing)

In brief...

Alex Trebek had a heart attack. Is it just me who finds this profoundly disturbing? Like, to my TV psyche?

On a more serious (than a heart attack?!) note, this is awful:

A judge's decision not to jail nine men guilty of raping a 10-year-old girl in an Aboriginal community has triggered outrage in Australia.

The offenders were either placed on probation or given suspended sentences for the 2005 rape in the Aurukun settlement, in northern Queensland.

In her ruling, Judge Sarah Bradley told them that the victim "probably agreed to have sex with all of you".

I was just trying to write something to properly express my outrage.