Just A Little Pondering
First item of business--
My laptop has lost its dang mind. A couple days ago, it decided that it had lived a full life and could throw in the towel. Thankfully, it still functions tolerably well, just as long as you don't bump it while typing and as long as you don't need to adjust the screen for any given reason. If you DO. . . well, then. That's an entirely different story. The screen colors go all weird and crazy and everybody looks like they're dying from some strange disease. It's rather inconvenient, I must say.
Of course, it's probably a semi-easy fix (like a loose wire or something). I say 'semi-easy' because it would be not-at-all easy should I try to fix it myself. But for someone who knows what they're doing, it would most certainly be easy. Until then, I will just have to remind myself that you're all not dying of some incurable disease whenever I see a picture of you.
The point of this post is to discuss a little something I like to call "women".
Deep, I know. Original, too.
Oh, and don't get the wrong idea, here, either. Keep reading to the end before you think I'm tooting my own horn or trying to make anyone feel bad :) And I reaaaallly hope this makes sense when I'm finished. I'm just kind of ranting and rambling.
Something has occurred to me now that I'm preggo and I've discussed it a little bit with Chuck. I jokingly said as we were walking out of our last doctor's appointment, "You know. . . when you're a woman, you compare your belly to everyone else's, thinking, 'I wish I were as skinny as her' or 'Would you look at her abs?! I wish I had abs like that'. But then when you get pregnant, you STILL compare your belly to everyone else's. 'Is something wrong with me because I'm not showing as much as her?' 'She looks so cute in that outfit. . . I would look like a striped caution barrel.'"
It never ends! Just when you think you're safe from worrying about your weight/appearance because you're growing another human being, you find yourself still being sucked into the world of pressure to look perfect allll the time. Again.
Almost every time I go out in public {and Facebook counts as public for all intents and purposes}, another woman comments on how little and/or cute my belly is. "What an adorable pregnant woman you are!" they say. And I blush and study the sidewalk cracks and 'hum' and 'ha' because I appreciate their comments (more than they know), but I'm not the best at accepting them. I get all flustered and don't know what to do with myself. Their comments usually lead to small talk-- a discussion about how far along I am and so on and so forth (all you womenfolk who have been pregnant or who are pregnant can surely relate).
I have begun to realize a trend.
Whenever a woman says something to me, I often see "The Look".
It's the look that says, "I pretty much secretly hate you even though I'm complimenting you because I didn't look like that when I was [X] weeks along."
I especially tend to get The Look from women who are expecting their second or third or fourth + child. Seriously, ladies? You're comparing my belly to yours when you've had more kids than me? Is that REALLY fair? I mean, come on. And if it happens to be your first kid and I still have a smaller circumference than you do, so what? Every single body is unique.
I just don't understand why we women have to be so crazy all the time. And believe me, I'm not exempt from comparing myself to others. But who cares if some completely random stranger is skinnier than you? And on that note, who cares if she's bigger than you? As long as she's not 485 pounds and trying to sit on your lap on the bus, it shouldn't matter. Society would have you believe differently, of course.
There's that illusive 'perfect figure' that everyone is chasing after. There's the perfect 20 year old; the perfect 30 year old; the perfect 40 year old; the perfect 50 year old. There's the perfect pregnant woman; the perfect athlete; the perfect punk rock singer; the perfect [fill in the blank]. Society pressures you to believe that you're somehow insufficient (or even insignificant) if you don't fit the bill. But the ironic part is that no one fits the bill. Unless your name is 'photo shop', of course. So who's idea was this anyway?!?
Why do we feel the need to compare ourselves to each other? What good does it accomplish?
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that every one who compliments another person is busy comparing themselves to that person. Genuine compliments are beautiful things that need to be handed out with perhaps a bit more frequency. What I'm getting at here is that if you're busy belittling yourself as you compliment another person, you need a long time-out on an itty bitty chair in the corner of a room.
Be kind to yourself. Feel beautiful in your own skin. Help others do the same. We're all in this together, ladies (and gents). There's really no sense in whittling away your happiness and contentment because you're so busy wishing you were different.
My laptop has lost its dang mind. A couple days ago, it decided that it had lived a full life and could throw in the towel. Thankfully, it still functions tolerably well, just as long as you don't bump it while typing and as long as you don't need to adjust the screen for any given reason. If you DO. . . well, then. That's an entirely different story. The screen colors go all weird and crazy and everybody looks like they're dying from some strange disease. It's rather inconvenient, I must say.
Of course, it's probably a semi-easy fix (like a loose wire or something). I say 'semi-easy' because it would be not-at-all easy should I try to fix it myself. But for someone who knows what they're doing, it would most certainly be easy. Until then, I will just have to remind myself that you're all not dying of some incurable disease whenever I see a picture of you.
The point of this post is to discuss a little something I like to call "women".
Deep, I know. Original, too.
Oh, and don't get the wrong idea, here, either. Keep reading to the end before you think I'm tooting my own horn or trying to make anyone feel bad :) And I reaaaallly hope this makes sense when I'm finished. I'm just kind of ranting and rambling.
Something has occurred to me now that I'm preggo and I've discussed it a little bit with Chuck. I jokingly said as we were walking out of our last doctor's appointment, "You know. . . when you're a woman, you compare your belly to everyone else's, thinking, 'I wish I were as skinny as her' or 'Would you look at her abs?! I wish I had abs like that'. But then when you get pregnant, you STILL compare your belly to everyone else's. 'Is something wrong with me because I'm not showing as much as her?' 'She looks so cute in that outfit. . . I would look like a striped caution barrel.'"
It never ends! Just when you think you're safe from worrying about your weight/appearance because you're growing another human being, you find yourself still being sucked into the world of pressure to look perfect allll the time. Again.
Almost every time I go out in public {and Facebook counts as public for all intents and purposes}, another woman comments on how little and/or cute my belly is. "What an adorable pregnant woman you are!" they say. And I blush and study the sidewalk cracks and 'hum' and 'ha' because I appreciate their comments (more than they know), but I'm not the best at accepting them. I get all flustered and don't know what to do with myself. Their comments usually lead to small talk-- a discussion about how far along I am and so on and so forth (all you womenfolk who have been pregnant or who are pregnant can surely relate).
I have begun to realize a trend.
Whenever a woman says something to me, I often see "The Look".
It's the look that says, "I pretty much secretly hate you even though I'm complimenting you because I didn't look like that when I was [X] weeks along."
I especially tend to get The Look from women who are expecting their second or third or fourth + child. Seriously, ladies? You're comparing my belly to yours when you've had more kids than me? Is that REALLY fair? I mean, come on. And if it happens to be your first kid and I still have a smaller circumference than you do, so what? Every single body is unique.
I just don't understand why we women have to be so crazy all the time. And believe me, I'm not exempt from comparing myself to others. But who cares if some completely random stranger is skinnier than you? And on that note, who cares if she's bigger than you? As long as she's not 485 pounds and trying to sit on your lap on the bus, it shouldn't matter. Society would have you believe differently, of course.
There's that illusive 'perfect figure' that everyone is chasing after. There's the perfect 20 year old; the perfect 30 year old; the perfect 40 year old; the perfect 50 year old. There's the perfect pregnant woman; the perfect athlete; the perfect punk rock singer; the perfect [fill in the blank]. Society pressures you to believe that you're somehow insufficient (or even insignificant) if you don't fit the bill. But the ironic part is that no one fits the bill. Unless your name is 'photo shop', of course. So who's idea was this anyway?!?
Why do we feel the need to compare ourselves to each other? What good does it accomplish?
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that every one who compliments another person is busy comparing themselves to that person. Genuine compliments are beautiful things that need to be handed out with perhaps a bit more frequency. What I'm getting at here is that if you're busy belittling yourself as you compliment another person, you need a long time-out on an itty bitty chair in the corner of a room.
Be kind to yourself. Feel beautiful in your own skin. Help others do the same. We're all in this together, ladies (and gents). There's really no sense in whittling away your happiness and contentment because you're so busy wishing you were different.
It is pretty silly how we do that huh? Yeah... Silly society. It reminds me of that new(ish) song Perfect by Pink... or at least the radio version of it. I like that song. :)
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