I was flipping through the March digital issue of Seventeen magazine this morning over breakfast when I found myself appalled. It's amazing how a short little phrase can have such an effect on people, and that is precisely why people must be careful of what they write! I was so angered that I decided to do something I've never done before: I sent a response to Seventeen via e-mail. I doubt anything will ever come of it, but Seventeen need to realize the harm they're doing to the self-image of thousands of girls. Here is my letter in its entirety. It may not make a difference at Seventeen, but I hope it makes a difference to someone out there on the Internet.
Dear Seventeen:
I loved your magazine as a teenager, and I still enjoy picking it up now when I need a fresh, young perspective on things. However, I was incredibly disappointed when I read the letter from Ann in the recent March issue regarding the Pretty Amazing Contest.
Although I can tell you tried to put the emphasis of the contest on the entrants' accomplishments and personal stories, it was the way Ann wrote one phrase that left me completely appalled: "yes, you have to be pretty to be on the cover...." I would think that a girls' magazine that has been popular for as many years as Seventeen has would realize that ALL women are beautiful. I would think that the editor of such a magazine would also realize this. And while you may say that you believe it, a simple phrase such as the one I quoted above reinforces the idea that some women are pretty, and some are not.
One thing I've learned as I grew older and battled constant low self-esteem was that the very things that I thought made me ugly were some of my BEST assets. I want other girls to realize that they, too, are beautiful, and when a magazine implies that they'll be judging girls according to whether or not they are pretty, this implies that you have some criteria for what constitutes "pretty," which is the very reason that so many girls feel ugly to begin with.
Is a girl not pretty because she isn't "skinny?" Is she not pretty because her teeth are crooked? Is she not pretty because she has rosacea? Is a girl not pretty because she chooses to wear black clothing instead of the latest fads? Every girl who reads your magazine is now wondering what criteria you're using to judge how pretty they are, and they are despairing that they don't meet it.
Maybe you, as a girls' magazine, should be emphasizing things that make girls accept the beauty that they already have, instead of pitting us against one another in some ridiculous beauty contest. Then maybe there won't be another generation of girls who grow up ashamed to look in the mirror, trying desperate measures to change their appearance because they feel their face is too round or freckled, their hair too curly or mousy, or their arms too long or hairy.
ALL women are pretty. ALL women are beautiful in their own, unique way. Magazines should be celebrating this, instead of discouraging it. You can do better than this, Seventeen, and you owe it to women everywhere.
Marian H.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Sunday, February 5, 2012
This weekend wasn't anything special, but at the same time, it was absolutely remarkable. I did the same things I do every weekend...I hung out at home, watched tv while I cleaned up after the dogs, and tonight is our scheduled weekly movie night. Jason's been sick, so for the most part, he's left me to my own thoughts, and it was a welcome chance for me to reconnect with myself - and that is exactly what made this weekend so remarkable.
I've enjoyed my time spent in Oklahoma City, but let's be honest...I haven't exactly accomplished much here, have I? I know many people have this issue...we graduate from college and walk out into the world, but have absolutely no idea where to go from there. It's a source of constant anxiety for me, and the longer I go with no life purpose, the more I feel like I'll miss my chance once I finally figure it out, so I flounder. I grab for any shred of a path to plant my feet on, then take a few steps and realize that it's not the right path for me. I see the people around me shaking their heads at my feeble attempts to do something with my life, and I become discouraged and afraid to keep trying, lest I keep failing.
So I've hidden myself away at home, focusing all my attention on my dogs, finding excuses to avoid facing the world. And while I love my dogs, and I am most certainly an introvert, I'm not meant for this kind of life. I've let the world push me down and stomp on my dreams until I stopped dreaming.
This weekend, I did some soul searching. I realized some pretty obvious revelations about myself, and once those floodgates were opened, the self-realization that was started way back in college started rolling again. I love who I am now, because I've accepted a lot of things about myself that have always been there, but were never recognized. I celebrate who I am and love showing people who I am. But now that I know who I am, I am even more clearly convinced that the path I'm on here is not the path meant for me.
I enjoy being a housewife, but pretending like I will be fulfilled if this all I ever am in life? That's not me. And while, yes, I do still think I would make a fantastic Mrs. Weasley, I don't want to be an imitation of someone else. I want to be ME.
Now, it's all very well and good for me to talk the talk, but what about walking the walk? That's a bit more complicated. I still don't know exactly which path to follow, but I do have a general direction. When I look at myself and ask what I want to really do with my life, the answer is clear: Something creative. That's super vague, I realize, but there's more to it than that. I know - KNOW - that I am supposed to be an artist. What kind of artist? Of that, I'm not quite sure, because I have multiple creative talents, and I find it difficult to decide to pursue just one.
I know I'm meant to go down that creative road, because it's been an unchanging part of my life for as long as I can remember. My mother tells me I used to hum songs before I learned how to talk. I used to reenact Romeo and Juliet on our balcony (by myself - running up and down the stairs to switch between roles). I have numerous notebooks containing stories I started as a kid and young teen. And, of course, I've been sketching since the moment I first got a pencil in my grubby little hand. When I decided that studying Religion in college was a stupid idea and decided to change my major after my freshman year, I picked English. Why? Because ETBU didn't have an art program, and I didn't want to transfer out. English was my second choice, because I figured it would help me learn to write better, and writing would at least help me to express my creativity, although it isn't my preferred method.
But after I graduated, suddenly the "real world" hit me square in the face...and let me tell you, I was nowhere near prepared to face it. In the midst of struggling to learn how to support myself, I faced a series of unfortunate events that kept setting me back. Soon, I had to let go of my dreams of making something of myself simply to make room for the responsibilities of life. Something I've noticed recently is that every time I sit down to be creative, what is forefront in my mind is whether or not this pursuit will help me make money. And while I've dreamed of supporting myself with my crafting for a while, who really wants to ruin their perfectly enjoyable hobby with thoughts of how to make money on everything they create? It was a blessing for me to be able to pursue my creative aspirations during college without worrying about money, even if it caused me to be shell-shocked by the real world when I made my adult debut.
I can't help but feel I should try to get that freedom back. Yes, money is still an issue. We live paycheck to paycheck, after all. But now that I have a job again, even though I HATE it some days, it's a big feeling of relief that it brings in the money and allows me to pursue my hobbies without the constant preoccupation with how I'll pay the bills. I really think I'll go out and find another job when this temp position comes to an end. Working is good for me, as it turns out. ;)
It's true, I still haven't really found my path. But at least I'm being honest with myself, and getting pointed in the right direction. It's time for me to get out of the house. It's time for me to meet more people with my same passions. I have a feeling that things will become more clear as I go along, and we all know that I won't discover anything if I keep standing still. I've been lying to myself for so long. I've been so afraid to face my fears that I let go of my dreams and ignored my very identity. I've been filling my life with things that aren't really that important to me, because I didn't want to admit what was important to me.
So yes, it's been quite a remarkable weekend for me. I still have a lot to figure out. But I feel just a little closer to my goal than I did, and for that, I am excited. For today, I am pulling my husband out of bed to take a walk with me at the lake and discuss things. Jason struggles to understand my creative side, so my weekend revelations may prove harder for him to accept than they were for me. But I'm his wife, and I need to be honest with him about who I am just as much as I have to be honest with myself.
Namaste, friends, and I hope that your Super Bowl Sunday is just as beautiful as mine.
I've enjoyed my time spent in Oklahoma City, but let's be honest...I haven't exactly accomplished much here, have I? I know many people have this issue...we graduate from college and walk out into the world, but have absolutely no idea where to go from there. It's a source of constant anxiety for me, and the longer I go with no life purpose, the more I feel like I'll miss my chance once I finally figure it out, so I flounder. I grab for any shred of a path to plant my feet on, then take a few steps and realize that it's not the right path for me. I see the people around me shaking their heads at my feeble attempts to do something with my life, and I become discouraged and afraid to keep trying, lest I keep failing.
So I've hidden myself away at home, focusing all my attention on my dogs, finding excuses to avoid facing the world. And while I love my dogs, and I am most certainly an introvert, I'm not meant for this kind of life. I've let the world push me down and stomp on my dreams until I stopped dreaming.
This weekend, I did some soul searching. I realized some pretty obvious revelations about myself, and once those floodgates were opened, the self-realization that was started way back in college started rolling again. I love who I am now, because I've accepted a lot of things about myself that have always been there, but were never recognized. I celebrate who I am and love showing people who I am. But now that I know who I am, I am even more clearly convinced that the path I'm on here is not the path meant for me.
I enjoy being a housewife, but pretending like I will be fulfilled if this all I ever am in life? That's not me. And while, yes, I do still think I would make a fantastic Mrs. Weasley, I don't want to be an imitation of someone else. I want to be ME.
Now, it's all very well and good for me to talk the talk, but what about walking the walk? That's a bit more complicated. I still don't know exactly which path to follow, but I do have a general direction. When I look at myself and ask what I want to really do with my life, the answer is clear: Something creative. That's super vague, I realize, but there's more to it than that. I know - KNOW - that I am supposed to be an artist. What kind of artist? Of that, I'm not quite sure, because I have multiple creative talents, and I find it difficult to decide to pursue just one.
I know I'm meant to go down that creative road, because it's been an unchanging part of my life for as long as I can remember. My mother tells me I used to hum songs before I learned how to talk. I used to reenact Romeo and Juliet on our balcony (by myself - running up and down the stairs to switch between roles). I have numerous notebooks containing stories I started as a kid and young teen. And, of course, I've been sketching since the moment I first got a pencil in my grubby little hand. When I decided that studying Religion in college was a stupid idea and decided to change my major after my freshman year, I picked English. Why? Because ETBU didn't have an art program, and I didn't want to transfer out. English was my second choice, because I figured it would help me learn to write better, and writing would at least help me to express my creativity, although it isn't my preferred method.
But after I graduated, suddenly the "real world" hit me square in the face...and let me tell you, I was nowhere near prepared to face it. In the midst of struggling to learn how to support myself, I faced a series of unfortunate events that kept setting me back. Soon, I had to let go of my dreams of making something of myself simply to make room for the responsibilities of life. Something I've noticed recently is that every time I sit down to be creative, what is forefront in my mind is whether or not this pursuit will help me make money. And while I've dreamed of supporting myself with my crafting for a while, who really wants to ruin their perfectly enjoyable hobby with thoughts of how to make money on everything they create? It was a blessing for me to be able to pursue my creative aspirations during college without worrying about money, even if it caused me to be shell-shocked by the real world when I made my adult debut.
I can't help but feel I should try to get that freedom back. Yes, money is still an issue. We live paycheck to paycheck, after all. But now that I have a job again, even though I HATE it some days, it's a big feeling of relief that it brings in the money and allows me to pursue my hobbies without the constant preoccupation with how I'll pay the bills. I really think I'll go out and find another job when this temp position comes to an end. Working is good for me, as it turns out. ;)
It's true, I still haven't really found my path. But at least I'm being honest with myself, and getting pointed in the right direction. It's time for me to get out of the house. It's time for me to meet more people with my same passions. I have a feeling that things will become more clear as I go along, and we all know that I won't discover anything if I keep standing still. I've been lying to myself for so long. I've been so afraid to face my fears that I let go of my dreams and ignored my very identity. I've been filling my life with things that aren't really that important to me, because I didn't want to admit what was important to me.
So yes, it's been quite a remarkable weekend for me. I still have a lot to figure out. But I feel just a little closer to my goal than I did, and for that, I am excited. For today, I am pulling my husband out of bed to take a walk with me at the lake and discuss things. Jason struggles to understand my creative side, so my weekend revelations may prove harder for him to accept than they were for me. But I'm his wife, and I need to be honest with him about who I am just as much as I have to be honest with myself.
Namaste, friends, and I hope that your Super Bowl Sunday is just as beautiful as mine.
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