Disturbing
I was watching the CBS News this morning. Something I don't normally do. I don't like to think that I'm hiding my head in the sand, but the news does nothing but depress me. I'm not sure that being "informed" isn't too high a price for my world-weary psyche. There was a segment entitled, "Cars or Breasts?" The question refers to the new trend in presents that parents are bestowing upon their daughters upon graduation from high school. I'm sickened and saddened. I don't even know where to start with this. It upsets so many of my sensibilities.
While I've thusfar spent my career in parenthood teaching my kids that the packaging of the soul doesn't matter, society on the whole, has done everything in it's power to prove me wrong. It seems they're winning the battle if a teenaged girl can coerce her parents into purchasing her self esteem in the form of artificial breasts. Why? Why is it easier to put a dollar sign on "happiness" than to teach true human value? The doctors of the world are making out by cashing in on our insecurities. "Reality" shows are spotlighting ugly ducklings by surgically turning them into swans. Am I the only one that sees the damage in this? We're not talking about repairing damages. We're talking about BUYING self-esteem.
When I was 11, I ran through a sliding glass door. Back then, sliding glass doors weren't made of safety glass. So my meeting with plate glass was not a pleasant one. I was cut from over my left eye diagonally across my face to the bottom of my jaw on the right side. I endured 7 hours of emergency surgery and 7 years of being called "Scarface". My parents offered reparative plastic surgery when I was 15. I declined. I learned strength of spirit. I learned to rely on my personality, my good nature, the person that lived in my soul, NOT the package that she came in. Would I, knowing what I know now, have taken the offer again? No. That experience is part of the person I've become. I like her.
Sure, you can say I'm just jealous. That's the usual response I get. I'm fat, so I'm invisible in Southern California. I live in Babylon; home of plastic people with shallow lives. I've struggled my whole life with weight, but never with who I am. I'm funny, intelligent, loving, and kind. But people here form a first impression based on visuals. I know it's not isolated to California, but I feel this is where it started. With the power of the media; the disease of "perfectionism" spreads like a cancer. I can't help but believe that what we're doing is nothing short of mass genocide of the pure human soul. What we're saying is that you are of no value to yourself or anyone else if you don't have fake breasts, fake noses, fake pecs, fake calves, fake, fake, fake. How appropriate that the remake of Stepford Wives is out.
It pains me to hear a young girl say in response to the question "Why do you want to do this?" .."Well, I dunno. I guess that it would make me feel better and more confident about myself?" You dunno? You guess? Good Lord. Why not work on what's inside of you? Oh that's right, you're up against the "what's hot and what's not" societal wall.
What parent doesn't want their child to be confident and self-assured? And lo and behold, it's so easy to buy now. Just pull out your checkbook. It makes it really hard for the parents that have been telling their daughters that they ARE beautiful and talented just as they are. Similarly, the parents who tell their sons not to judge a girl by the numbers on her bra or the size of her clothes can just save it. Breast augmentations are less about making them feel better about themselves than it is about having guys drool over you. Who cares if you have personal value? Who cares if you're a good person? At 17 or 18, it's not enough unless you have big tits or a perfect six-pack, you turn heads, and someone drools over you. How sad.
When we're buying plastic surgery for graduation presents, we've reached the lowest of lows.
I was watching the CBS News this morning. Something I don't normally do. I don't like to think that I'm hiding my head in the sand, but the news does nothing but depress me. I'm not sure that being "informed" isn't too high a price for my world-weary psyche. There was a segment entitled, "Cars or Breasts?" The question refers to the new trend in presents that parents are bestowing upon their daughters upon graduation from high school. I'm sickened and saddened. I don't even know where to start with this. It upsets so many of my sensibilities.
While I've thusfar spent my career in parenthood teaching my kids that the packaging of the soul doesn't matter, society on the whole, has done everything in it's power to prove me wrong. It seems they're winning the battle if a teenaged girl can coerce her parents into purchasing her self esteem in the form of artificial breasts. Why? Why is it easier to put a dollar sign on "happiness" than to teach true human value? The doctors of the world are making out by cashing in on our insecurities. "Reality" shows are spotlighting ugly ducklings by surgically turning them into swans. Am I the only one that sees the damage in this? We're not talking about repairing damages. We're talking about BUYING self-esteem.
When I was 11, I ran through a sliding glass door. Back then, sliding glass doors weren't made of safety glass. So my meeting with plate glass was not a pleasant one. I was cut from over my left eye diagonally across my face to the bottom of my jaw on the right side. I endured 7 hours of emergency surgery and 7 years of being called "Scarface". My parents offered reparative plastic surgery when I was 15. I declined. I learned strength of spirit. I learned to rely on my personality, my good nature, the person that lived in my soul, NOT the package that she came in. Would I, knowing what I know now, have taken the offer again? No. That experience is part of the person I've become. I like her.
Sure, you can say I'm just jealous. That's the usual response I get. I'm fat, so I'm invisible in Southern California. I live in Babylon; home of plastic people with shallow lives. I've struggled my whole life with weight, but never with who I am. I'm funny, intelligent, loving, and kind. But people here form a first impression based on visuals. I know it's not isolated to California, but I feel this is where it started. With the power of the media; the disease of "perfectionism" spreads like a cancer. I can't help but believe that what we're doing is nothing short of mass genocide of the pure human soul. What we're saying is that you are of no value to yourself or anyone else if you don't have fake breasts, fake noses, fake pecs, fake calves, fake, fake, fake. How appropriate that the remake of Stepford Wives is out.
It pains me to hear a young girl say in response to the question "Why do you want to do this?" .."Well, I dunno. I guess that it would make me feel better and more confident about myself?" You dunno? You guess? Good Lord. Why not work on what's inside of you? Oh that's right, you're up against the "what's hot and what's not" societal wall.
What parent doesn't want their child to be confident and self-assured? And lo and behold, it's so easy to buy now. Just pull out your checkbook. It makes it really hard for the parents that have been telling their daughters that they ARE beautiful and talented just as they are. Similarly, the parents who tell their sons not to judge a girl by the numbers on her bra or the size of her clothes can just save it. Breast augmentations are less about making them feel better about themselves than it is about having guys drool over you. Who cares if you have personal value? Who cares if you're a good person? At 17 or 18, it's not enough unless you have big tits or a perfect six-pack, you turn heads, and someone drools over you. How sad.
When we're buying plastic surgery for graduation presents, we've reached the lowest of lows.
posted by Pua; Bakin' and Tendin' Bar | 10:29 AM
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