As I Am: Putting Perspective on "Summer" Bodies

It's that time of the year again -- that time when the pressure to get ourselves "ready" for summer through dieting, tanning, highlighting, and a variety of other activities becomes pretty intense. It's the time of year when advertisements, the media, friends, and family remind us on a daily basis that if we're planning on wearing bathing suits, we'd better be thin enough to do so; that if we're going to be showing any skin, our body had better be tan enough to do so; that if we plan on having any fun whatsoever during the summer months, we'd better make sure that our bodies are ready to take on the physical role of "summer."

So here's the thing. This year, for the first time in my life, I've made a conscious decision not to buy into it. It's not easy -- not by a long shot. But this year, I am not dieting. I am not tanning. I am not bleaching my hair. I am ready to experiment with the idea of proudly displaying myself in whatever bathing suit or clothing I want to, in all of my imperfection. This is me:

While I am not overweight, per say, I am curvy (especially according to society's standards). My skin is very fair (often referred to as "pasty" by the loving members of the society to which I belong). My hair is very dark and pretty long -- not often styled well (mostly because I choose to sleep longer or whatever instead of spending an hour on it). I've got lots of freckles all over my body, which stand out starkly against my white skin. My breasts are a B-cup. But, see, I've decided not to care anymore that I don't meet society's standards for summer beautiful.

This isn't because I think that my natural self at all embodies the epitome of what we have culturally been led to believe is "beautiful," but because I've decided it's a good idea to embrace the deep philosophical practice of not giving a shit.

Golda Poretsky covers this at her blog. This is not about apathy, per say, but about making a conscious decision to not allow others' opinions of you (particularly about your physical appearance) control any aspect of your life.

This is difficult because we are taught from a very young age that we should care very much about what other people think. As a woman, I know that the pressure to shape one's self into the generic notion of "beautiful" can be intense. Crushingly intense.

Those who know me deeply know that I used to shape my life around making myself "beautiful." I thought that happiness could be found in being physically perfect. I used to put off things I wanted to do because I wasn't thin enough yet, and once I was thin enough or whatever enough, life could finally begin. I spiraled through eleven years of eating disorders (which almost killed me when I decided it was acceptable to withhold my necessary insulin injections because, hey, I'd be thin). I laid in tanning beds and covered my body with staining lotions so that my naturally fair skin would become darker. I bleached my hair, subsequently damaging it beyond repair. I used under-eye concealer on my freckles to make them less noticeable. In short, I went to great lengths in the name of physical perfection ... and I know that many other girls and women do, too.

But the burning question, always, is why. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we buy into the notion that our physical appearance is more important than our health, or our very lives? Why do we allow ourselves to accept the notion that we're not "good enough" unless we're thin enough, tan enough, blond enough, etc.? I am a huge advocate of health and taking care of one's self, but the fact of the matter is that not all of us (not even close to all of us) are born with the capacity to be ultra-skinny, large-breasted "bombshells". And the message that our society sends to us is that we are, therefore, lesser people than those who were born with said capacity. That we should feel ashamed about the ways in which our bodies deviate from society's beauty standard.

That we should do everything in our power to change ourselves, mold ourselves, until we meet the expectation.

But beyond the fact that this leaves millions of women (and men -- yes, I know you suffer from this, too) feeling inadequate for simply being themselves, it also sends the message that the main point of wearing a bikini (or short shorts, or a tank top) is to turn ourselves into ornaments that are attractive to other people. That the main point of vacationing is to be physically appealing. That the main point of visiting public pools or parks or cookouts or camping trips is to be physically appealing. As if we don't do these things simply because we enjoy doing them.

As if we don't deserve to enjoy our summers if we're not thin, tanned, and blond.

I've come to a few realizations in recent years, including that I've got quite a few things going on that require a lot from me -- my child, writing, teaching, and everything involved in getting the most out of the human experience that I can, while I'm here. And I'm tired of sacrificing so much time and money, and devoting so much emotional effort, into an impossible ideal that does not represent who I really am. So I'm not going to do it anymore.

Don't get me wrong here. Societal pressure, and the not-so-subtle messages that it sends to us about the way we look, still gets to me. It's not easy to dismiss it. I'm not going to lie and say that I love my body, or that I'm proud of it. I'm not there yet.

But what I can say is that I'm proud of myself. I'm proud of the fact that, despite society and all of the anxiety I feel about how I currently look, I'm just not going to waste any time on it anymore. I will do what I can to be healthy (like, you know, take my insulin). And beyond that, I will spend my extra money on making memories with my son and with my friends, rather than on tanning lotions and expensive highlights. I will spend my time making memories rather than on excessively exercising and obsessively dieting.

I'm not trying to denounce anyone who does feel the need to spend time and money shaping themselves. Do what you feel you need to.

But as for me, I am proud of myself this year -- proud beyond anything that my body and physical appearance represents. I'm simply proud of the woman I am. And when I show up at the beach, or the theme park, or the barbecue, or wherever this summer, I will not be there to prove that I can meet anyone else's expectations of "beauty." I will be there to have fun.

As I am.