Dealing with ideals.

A female professor I had once told me, she purposefully ate whatever she wanted in front of young girls. Never complained about her weight, never gave them the impression that the struggle to be thin was part of her grand plan. Her hope: to help them battle the overwhelming urge to pick at their food, to strive to be perfect, to battle the bulge from the time they were socially aware. That was a number of years ago, and I have always tried to keep that with me, to incorporate that into my life, to be the good "role model" for girls.

The first time I remember going a diet was in 7th grade. That would put me at 12 or 13 years old. It was a diet I had put myself on. It was a starvation diet that was limited to wheat thins. It didn't last, as I was in love with food! I've always been in lust with the idea of being the ideal, but my undying love for food has always won out.

I hate the idea that there are 12 year olds out there right now, just like me. I hate that they see Mylie Cyrus, or Sienna Miller, or Angelina Jolie and they strive for that. But, so do I. If my adult brain completely understands and can rationally "get" that it isn't possible for me. That most of the images I see are not possible for the model themselves, than how can I expect that a 12 year old girl won't fall prey to the messages of idealized beauty. And probably thinks, upon looking at me, that I "should" care about what I eat. That I should worry about it, because who wants to be fat? My attempts to be a good role model are futile because there are too many other "perfect" role models to look up to.

I hate the idea that those 12 year olds will become 32 year olds who still obsess over their weight. Who still wish they look like 15 year olds(because what i wouldn't do to weigh what I did at 15)....or the genetically perfect 32 year olds (yes, I adore Angelina!). I'm still in awe at how we are the same age, and she gets to look like THAT! Pregnant even. I would walk around pregnant FOREVER if I got to look like that while I was.

And honestly, it won't ever be enough. At my lowest weight of 119lbs as an adult, I still wasn't happy. What if i could get to 115? Or 110 even? What then? Happiness? Doubtful. And it didn't last because what I did find was happiness. I met my husband while I was 119. He loved me for who I was and not my weight. The void I filled by working out constantly was suddenly filled with someone I cared about and I was back to my usual 135ish weight in no time. Does he still love me? You bet he does.

I guess, for the most part, my true priorties in life are to be a good person, to strive to live by the values I profess to hold dear, and to treat people in a respectful manner. When I abide by these things, I feel good about myself. But, there is always a but...or a butt:) Even when I am exactly who I want to be, I'll always wish I was a thinner version, a tighter version, a swimsuit model version of whoI want to be. Unfortunately, once the "ideal" has permeated a woman's psyche, I don't think she ever leaves.

Fellow, women...if you have successfully gotten her to leave your psyche, I'd love to hear how you gave her the boot!