Tag Archives: body image

Shame on the Shamers!

Shortly after I posted about Serena’s accomplishments, I found this: Serena shaming examples.

At least there seems to be a discussion on the topic – as the author of the posted cited above states:    Fortunately, as online critics have also been quick to point out, the continued shock and awe that Williams’ body does not conform to some tiny little white girl paradigm is outrageously narrow minded and insulting.

Why is it that a woman’s body is considered an open target for judgement and criticism?   Serena has proven beyond a shadow of ANY doubt – that she is simply the best at what she does.   She is an athlete, and she (and we) should  be proud of her strong, muscular body.  She (and her body) deserve our respect and admiration; and I simply cannot fathom the depths of the judgmental self-righteous arrogance that seems to compel haters to jump in with their irrelevant and insulting criticisms of one of the greatest athletes of any generation.

And then there is This NY Times Article about the body image issues in women’s tennis.  The article  gives credence and valuable editorial real estate to the view that many players prefer to be more ‘feminine’ (read: tiny, quiet and white)  in appearance.   The label ‘feminine’ is subjective at best, and racist and sexist at worst.  It has been (and appear to continue to be) used to defend the undefensible stereotype that women should be small, quiet and demure, versus being our true selves-selves that come in a wide range of sizes, colors, volumes, personalities, skills and strengths.

More power to Serena and other women who are unapologetically STRONG, Powerful, Smart, Fearless, and Outspoken vs. trying to conform to someone else’s stereotype of what a ‘real’ woman should be.

It reminds me of the words of Sojourner Truth regarding the condescending definition of femininity of her generation; a definition that was used as justification for denying women basic rights such as the vote and the ability to own property in their own names:

“That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain’t I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain’t I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man – when I could get it – and bear the lash as well! And ain’t I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother’s grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain’t I a woman?”

 

Road Trip Day 3 – Love Thyself

My brain is absolutely spinning – so much information and so many wonderful people!  The level of dedication and compassion among family members, NEDA staff and practitioners is awe-inspiring.  People are very open with their stories, there have been tears and laughter.

Will share just one insight from an insightful day:  Self-care comes out of Self-Love.   One of the practitioners shared her AHA moment that ED sufferers do  know intellectually what they need to do to get better; however, that knowledge alone does not translate into change.  If you don’t like your body you are not motiviated sufficiently to care for yourself.

Right now I am going to care for myself by taking a stroll in the balmy Texas evening in search of some wine and pasta.

Postscript:   My plans switched to Mexican food with a large, potent margarita.

If the Jeans Fit

I do not get excited about Casual Friday, although many of my colleagues think it is a great ‘perk’ that they can wear jeans once a week.  My lack of enthusiasm is due to several factors.

Some of my co-workers take the ‘casual Friday’ concept to the extreme; wearing ripped t-shirts, run-down beach flip flops, and/or the retro ultra-short shorts of the 1970s (yes, I AM talking about grown men.)  It is distracting (and NOT in a good way) to be in a meeting on a serious topic while sitting next to a guy in a pair of shorts that would make John MacEnroe blush.

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