Something struck me last weekend, when the small island on which
I live had a community celebration of summer solstice. Scores of
joyful little kids darted among the dancing adults, chasing and
throwing beachballs. We were having a great time.
On the stage in the park were lively musical performances of
local bands. At the tongue-in-cheek fashion show of local
non-models wearing silly, recycled clothing, the crowd delighted
in the women’s flirtation.
The whole thing was fun. It’s fun to let loose and play and strut
and dance and feel supported taking risks.
But this other insidious awareness wiggled up from inside. I
didn’t like it. It should have been a clear sign to turn away
from the thoughts that followed.
Most of those joyful little kids, I suddenly realized, were boys.
Where were the girls? While the majority of the little boys were
fully engaged, most of the little girls held back, looking
awkward, but with clear longing to play.
Almost all the musicians were men.
In the fashion show, the featured clothing was tight and
revealing.
Here it is, 2011, in this supposedly progressive community. Is it
STILL true that girls are subtly discouraged from being joyfully
in their bodies in any other way than to be cute? Is it STILL
true that no matter what other value a woman may have, her sex
appeal is what really matters?
For boys and men, are there STILL equally narrow boxes into which
they must fit to be accepted?
Well?
And if you don’t happen to fit those ideals?
Once upon a time–or maybe more than once, someone whose opinion
mattered to you probably criticized or made fun of you for some
way your body was. True for me, anyway.
Chances are, you took in the larger cultural ideal of what a body
of your age and gender was supposed to be like, and yours didn’t
match. True for me, anyway.
Over time, you may have forgotten these events or impressions
coming from the outside. You may have internalized the messages,
telling yourself frequently in some subtle, or not-so-subtle way,
that it’s not okay that you are the way you are. True for me,
anyway.
Many people are not even aware of the level of self-rejection
they practice on a daily basis, and the extent to which they go
to hide, cover up, and pretend to be something they aren’t.
I like to think of myself as pretty self-aware. And sure enough,
more often than I want to admit, I cave to perceived social
pressure to be some way I think I need to be to be accepted.
Probably not you, right? 🙂
When I do it, I get headaches. Sinus infections. An upset
stomach. Gas. Back pain. That little patch on my foot itches and
erupts into athlete’s foot.
My body always speaks right up. I can’t get away with any of this
posturing around, hanging out with those thoughts that I’m not
okay, without getting into trouble.
The solution?
Be real. Tell the truth. Be authentic.
Okay, that sounds like great advice. Does that mean you should
show up for work in your pajamas and tell your boss just what you
think about her irritating habits? Tell your spouse he needs to
lose weight to turn you on?
Unh-unh. No.
Not that, any more than it would help for you to wag your finger
at me and sing-song that it’s my own fault for attracting my
problems.
Truth, with a capital T, is about your true magnificence, and
that of everyone else. Authenticity is daring to be your full
self, and know that that appearance of pimply weakness is only
temporary.
It’s daring to see the authentic power of that other human being
who is cowering behind the mask of not-enoughness.
Being real is standing up for yourself, not making excuses.
It’s insisting on knowing the love in that person who is
desperately trying to control you, and seeing that this is just
temporary fear, instead of buying into his game and reacting
defensively.
You can feel it when you’re being real. It feels like power,
relief, connection, freedom.
You deserve it.
Go ahead. Let yourself be TRUE, AUTHENTIC, REAL.
What will you do first?
Me, I’ll remember the joy of those little boys, the exuberance of
that one 12 year old girl playing with every bit as much skill,
fun, and determination as any of the boys, my appreciation of all
the musicians, the fun of dancing and playing with the kids, the
courage of those women who dared to strut, how much I love this
community of special people all doing their human thing, and the
opportunity to do my own.
Bravo!
Your article speaks volumes to all of us who claim to be part of the human race. It’s so important to our inner self to be honest with ourselves, about ourselves. We can get too caught up in being what someone else wants us to be and denying ourselves our authentic self. I was one of those little girls who held back because of the ridicule of others. The older I get the more I realize it’s important to adopt Popeye’s philosophy of “I yam what I yam and that’s all that I yam.” and add, “I love what I yam!” It’s crucial to let our genuine self show and celebrate our uniqueness. Thanks for the article.