Spoken word

Silicone bullets burst onto busts of a blossoming

generation

On their knees

Screaming, please, please, PLEASE

squeeze into these jeans.

Just one size smaller,

just one inch taller

Until we disappear,

and it's never clear

How to stop and say

NO

I won't be this way.

New Meaning

“As a feminist, I disgust myself. How can I call myself a feminist while being an obvious product of a patriarchial, dominantly white society hell bent on breaking down women by keeping them weak, uneducated about our own bodies, and held to impossible standards of beauty? How can I mix these two elements of my life-this desire to be within the image that breaks down my gender as a whole and my desire to be a strong, independent, intelligent woman who breaks down those images? The false standards of beauty, constantly perpetuated by our media and our peers, simultaneously drives and disgusts me.”

-Livejournal entry, 12/7/08

It has been nearly a year since this was written in my online journal; a year of change, a year of growth, [literally and figuratively!] and a year of challenges. I wrote this at the tail end of my own, undiagnosed eating disorder. I suffered for three years, in a perpetual cycle of unhealthy eating and exercise habits, disgust at those habits and a disgust for myself as a person who was so conflicted. To everyone I knew, I was a confident, strong individual who didn’t give a fuck about what anyone else thought. On my own, however, I was internalizing my idea of perfection and my growing anxiety by starving myself. I struggled constantly, trying to balance these two Ginamaries: one who was and is a strong, confident woman; and one, who is equally critical and points that criticism most harshly in her own direction. For now, I have gotten closer to that balance. I use that criticism to drive myself to do things that promote confidence and healthy living. I use my knowledge and experience to support a movement that I am quickly becoming deeply involved in. I give myself more to participate in, more to be passionate about, and more to love.

Looking back on that time, I am amazed at how many girls I knew and talked to on a daily basis who were taking part in unhealthy, even fatal behaviors; while there is an obvious disrespect of our bodies in treating them this way, I was not the only one torn between my political beliefs and my attachment to an eating disorder. How is an unattainable image of beauty, perfection, and control so deeply engrained in adolescent girls? Even if we denounce all stereotypical media that bombards us with photoshopped images, we are still trying to grow in a world where most girls feel a need--like eating, sleeping, or breathing--to look a certain way. What's worse is that, by being apathetic, we are feeding it. We are allowing images to break us down and we don't care. Most girls even buy these images in the form of magazines, posters, or album art. We as a society are jaded to what is hurting us the most; it is like a silent beast, moving amongst us without notice. No one has shouted 'What is that, and what is it doing here?' so girls are falling prey every day.