The first thing my parents ever commented on about any female of any age or relationship to them was their looks. "Oh, she's pretty." "Oh, she's thin." "Oh, she's ugly." "Oh, she's fat." Matter of fact and conveying that appearance was the most important attribute. After years of conflict with my father because of his poor treatment of m…
The first thing my parents ever commented on about any female of any age or relationship to them was their looks. "Oh, she's pretty." "Oh, she's thin." "Oh, she's ugly." "Oh, she's fat." Matter of fact and conveying that appearance was the most important attribute. After years of conflict with my father because of his poor treatment of my mother, he invited me out to lunch when I was almost 18 to "finally tell you my side of the story." Which was, "Your mother was a beautiful model when we met. Turned heads everywhere we went. Then she got fat." Silence. That was honestly it. On my way to Yale with high ambitions, I was outwardly rejecting of such superficiality and misogyny, but of course prey to it as well. I've worked hard to rise above it, to not overvalue my own looks and over mourn their fading as I age, and more deeply, to raise both my children, but especially my daughter, without this obsession with appearance. But, maybe I went too far, not reveling in her beauty enough without needing to place exaggerated focus on it or denigrate others' looks. Or maybe the focus on the female body in our society is still too strong a force for a mother to keep her daughter from falling prey to feeling inadequate. Because she fell victim to the cult of ROGD and the lie that being a woman is something she should and can flee from. Because she seems to feel that being a man is to be free from these impossible standards of beauty and superficial appraisal of value.
The first thing my parents ever commented on about any female of any age or relationship to them was their looks. "Oh, she's pretty." "Oh, she's thin." "Oh, she's ugly." "Oh, she's fat." Matter of fact and conveying that appearance was the most important attribute. After years of conflict with my father because of his poor treatment of my mother, he invited me out to lunch when I was almost 18 to "finally tell you my side of the story." Which was, "Your mother was a beautiful model when we met. Turned heads everywhere we went. Then she got fat." Silence. That was honestly it. On my way to Yale with high ambitions, I was outwardly rejecting of such superficiality and misogyny, but of course prey to it as well. I've worked hard to rise above it, to not overvalue my own looks and over mourn their fading as I age, and more deeply, to raise both my children, but especially my daughter, without this obsession with appearance. But, maybe I went too far, not reveling in her beauty enough without needing to place exaggerated focus on it or denigrate others' looks. Or maybe the focus on the female body in our society is still too strong a force for a mother to keep her daughter from falling prey to feeling inadequate. Because she fell victim to the cult of ROGD and the lie that being a woman is something she should and can flee from. Because she seems to feel that being a man is to be free from these impossible standards of beauty and superficial appraisal of value.