Nothin' Normal About It

The following nugget is inspired by the blog hop prompt below from me swell friend Mardra...

This is a Blog Hop. So, hoppers: What do you think? What are the ups and downs of normal? What’s normal anyway? Do you wish for it or abhor it?

"Body image" is a modern term that never should have been invented. Why do we insist on over-thinking the shape and size of our bodies? And what are we comparing ourselves to? And what is the point? There are so many other things to worry about. Why do we worry so much about squeezing ourselves into an unrealistic societal mold?

Being skinny isn't normal. Being fat isn't normal. But worrying about it has become so commonplace that's it's impossible to avoid (you know, as long as you insist on having contact with the outside world). The diet, health, and exercise industries thrive on paranoia created by the fashion, entertainment, and media industries. The fact that a place like Baby Gap even exists is testimony to how much personal appearance - the right personal appearance - dominates the everyday lives of everyday Americans.

As a girl, my sister suffered from Barbie envy, as have, apparently, millions of other young girls. I was fortunate enough to not fall into this trap. Barbie is, after all, nothing more than a doll. But Charlie's Angels? They were real. That's what women were supposed to look like. Tall, thin, and fashionable with perfect hair who never sweat, never left the house without the exact right amount of expertly applied makeup, and simply always looked gorgeous. In the 1970s, that's what women and young girls thought was normal. That's what they thought they were supposed to look like. It's what I thought I was supposed to look like, and it was devastatingly frustrating to discover that my reality would never, ever include any of the aforementioned Angels ideals.

The Angels were also wicked smart, clever, brave, talented, and often heroic, something ugly fat girls were definitely not.

As I've gotten older, I've learned some important things. I've learned that normal is a myth, a ruse concocted by people who are just trying to sell something. I've learned that I will never fit into anyone else's mold (and that's not just because my thighs are too big). I don't make the mistake of thinking that I have a true handle on who I am or what I want out of life. I'm too addled by contradictions. I'm environmentally conscious, but when leftovers go bad in the fridge, I just throw out the whole container instead suffering through cleaning it out to reuse it. I value making good food choices, but I consistently make bad ones. I love baggy clothes (especially pants) while envying the women who can pull off skin tight outfits. I delight in having a clean house, but rarely actually have one.

I'm a mess!

But that's OK. It's normal.