What a Girl Wants

I mentioned the Barbie-body pressure in my prior blog.  In the interest of full disclosure, I've helped mother nature make a change I consider to have been an improvement. I suppose what I consider key in the process of deciding was being able to live with or without the change, and being happy either way. The rest of my physique has been earned the hard way, through fitness and nutrition. I started my workouts with simple curiosity - could I change things I'd accepted as just my physical fate? Each month that I saw positive results made me realize that I had placed limitations on myself that I could actually move past.  

So where is all this taking our conversation?  It has to do with the current public dialogue about body shaming, and outcries for being happy with our body. I’m all for acceptance.  We come in all shapes and sizes, and media and advertising would do well to stop pushing one type to us as the ideal: and they (media) are changing. Did you ever think you’d see the day you would find unpadded bras in Victoria Secret?! Yep, now they not only have several styles, they’re embracing the concept of multiple body-types in their advertising.

I understand the recent point being made about not calling models plus-sized if they are not skinny – they are models: drop the “plus-sized”.  It’s not much different than calling a guy who is a nurse a male nurse.  Isn’t he simply a nurse? 

When it comes to accepting our bodies, or dedication to improving them: where does self-improvement end, and where does obsession begin?  Think of the spectrum of all things this could pertain to: make-up, exercise, nutrition, supplements, dying our hair… 

At the other end of the spectrum, where does healthy acceptance end, and neglect begin?  This spectrum that at one end says watching calories is okay, but beware of its obsessive extreme, eating disorders, is murky.  We can consider that being of a medium weight is merely not subscribing to the Barbie-body pressure. We can also talk about overweight and obesity as problems of health, and not of appearance. On face value, that isn’t being critical or body-shaming, but it does depend on the context of the discussion.

For many in southern California, especially, it’s hard to settle for an aspiration of good health and graceful aging when it has become so acceptable to get injectables and BOGO plastic surgery.  I’ve known a few people who, once they start, can’t stop.  “Natural” becomes very unacceptable.  I’ve heard this story more than once:  “I went into the plastic surgeon to get a consult for a [insert any procedure here] and he asked “But what about [insert additional procedure here]?”  In other words – it didn’t matter that she wanted to take care of something that probably bugged her for a while, he pointed out where she wasn’t physically perfect (whose standard?!) and it became her new must-have.

So be careful.  The best advice I can give is don’t expect whatever you do to make your life better.  You might feel in better proportion – but if you had pre-surgery anxiety about the future or regret from the past, they will be waiting for you when you come out of surgery.

#body-shaming #implants #plastic surgery #acceptance

A Two-way Street

This idea of sharing between generations in this Mileposts blog goes both ways.  I’ve learned a lot from my son and daughter, their friends, and my younger co-workers.  For example, I would not have realized what mom-jeans were without the fashion advice of my then-teenage daughter.

She could not wait to take me shopping, and yes, she picked out things I never, ever would have selected for myself.  And that was kind of the point.  There was a period in my life when I thought comfort and fashion were simply incompatible, and I chose comfort.  No, I never went all out Birkenstocks (and no judgment here if you do), but I was a stone’s throw from being mistaken for a refugee from a time machine that was permanently set to the 70s. Hopefully, I exaggerate, but probably not. I’ll let you judge for yourself.  This is my sister and I in matching mullet hair-dos in the mid-1980s.  I’m pretty sure I’m sporting mom-jeans, but fortunately, I’m sitting down and it’s hard to tell.

It can be humbling to take advice or to learn from those who are younger, or perhaps newer to something than we are.  Sometimes, though, those fresh eyes see things we miss.

When I first heard about Meetups, I thought the idea was absurd.  Show up to do something with a bunch of strangers?  Possibly show up by myself?  But with encouragement, I gave it a go. The first one was not horrible, but it I didn’t return or make any future friends.  Still, I broke the ice for myself, and got a little more discerning about selecting groups. And today some of my best friends are people I met through Meetup.  We even started one at work, for social events outside of work.

My friends and I have probably made the most strides in our workouts and nutrition advances from our adult kids, too.  Understanding that whole “eat less, move more” or “abs are made in the kitchen more so than in the gym” was the beginning of truly life-changing habits for how and what I eat, as well as how I approach fitness. 

I think it helps any relationship to have give and receive like I’ve described.  No one has all the answers, and most of us appreciate when someone wants to tap into something we seem to have a handle on.

All this sharing is great, but I’ll offer a word of caution if you’re a single mother wanting to talk to your daughter about dating. There is still a bit of an “ewww” factor from your daughter’s perspective if you cross a certain line.  You’ll figure it out, but you might want to dip your toe in before forging ahead with dating fun-facts or questions.  

The same applies to mothers and daughters doing things together. Most relationships take a bit of negotiating.  How much belongingness and how much aloneness do we each want?  There’s nothing wrong with anyone who prefers either circumstance.  I’d avoid words like smothering when the other one wants more together time.  And I’d avoid labeling someone antisocial or a loner if they require more solitude than you.  Our past creates a lot of patterns and habits that make us who we are.  We react automatically, sometimes, to familiar behaviors that used to mean something, and may not mean the same thing in this time and place.  It’s a good idea to check in when you’re feeling overwhelmed by togetherness or abandoned by alone time.  It may not be what you think. It usually is a case of “it’s not you, it’s me.”  Really, though.