pressure

I have a charity ball on Valentine's Day, two weeks from yesterday. It's black tie, and I have a dress to wear, a hot little mermaid-green satin number, sweetheart neckline, pencil skirt style bottom. Satin shows EVERYTHING. And being bigger on the bottom than the top by at least a size, I ended up buying the size that fit my chest, thinking I could stretch out the bottom or shrink a couple pounds in time for the party.

Why do women do this to themselves? There's been so much hype lately over Jessica Simpson and her weight-gain. At first I thought, (and I'm being honest here, so don't judge me) "Ugh, how did she let herself blow up like that, gross." And then I cried, angry with myself for thinking that, for that being my first reaction instead of defending her, feeling solidarity, or at least being sympathetic to how hard "staying thin" is. We are SO hard on each other, us women, and so hard on ourselves. 

I hope she stays that size. Looking again, I think she looks healthier than she ever did before. And you know Marilyn Monroe wore a size 14. And she was gorgeous! It was hard to grow up in the eighties, post-Twiggy, supermodels like Cindy Crawford just starting their reign, so much for us to live up to. And it's only harder now, with Lindsey Lohan and Keira Knightley and all the rail-thin celebrities out there. I  mean at least Cindy had boobs. I hope Jessica uses her new beautiful body to inspire young girls to just be themselves, be happy and HEALTHY, not just thin. Thin is not always the best way to be and is not always healthy. 

I wish she could inspire me. But I'm probably going to continue eating less than usual for the next two weeks anyway. Why? My husband loves me no matter what, and he says I'm the most beautiful naked, completely free of any and all help I could get from clothing. It's about feeling sexy though, and I haven't felt that way lately. It's internal. I don't know how to fix that. I'm not starving myself, not by any means. But I did have a few less fries with my veggie burger last night than I really wanted. I can't decide if that's a bad thing or not, if it's anti-feminist or anti-me. But at least I'm conscious that it could be. Being conscious of it keeps me from slipping further into that eating disorder cycle, which let's face it, is so readily encouraged by our media and society today, despite the claims that it's not.