Mirror, Mirror

Mirror

I’m thinking of breaking all the mirrors in my house. Maybe all the screens, too. Heck, maybe I’ll just leave the house, and the town, and society. I’ll never measure up anyway.

At least, that’s what they tell me. Tell us. Because it’s the same message they’re giving you. Giving everyone. Probably even themselves. Possibly mostly themselves.

No matter what, we will never be “enough.” Not smart enough, pretty enough, fun enough, serious enough. For years, women have been told to worry about whether their butt was too big, and men, whether their belly was too round. That they had to pick clothes that emphasized a shapely-but-not-too-wide-at-the-hips figure. Now, thanks to idiotic media focus on things like the Kardashians’ anatomy, we’re supposed to worry that our butts aren’t big enough.

Don’t even mention breasts. There’s still plenty of film – digital, video, or still – dedicated to cleavage, and I have had to resign myself to the fact that no amount of padded-ultra-push-up-underwire-lift is ever going to make me look like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. Now, however, there is Continue reading “Mirror, Mirror”

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