Social Dismorphia

I have a theory, and it's distressing. I believe that the industries of fashion, beauty and care products may be run by robots. And by robots I mean money-mongering souls who either don't realize what they are doing or, more likely in my mind, don't care. These robots are programmed to destroy women, and thus society. I firmly believe that a family is the most important unit of society, and good things come from strong homes. Destroy the master of services and all good things (as I call homemakers) by chipping away at her self-worth slowly over her lifetime of media exposure. It's a brilliant plan, and I think it's working.

Looking good is awesome. Being confident feels great and makes you happy. However, letting evil robots set the criteria for these good things is not good. I'm constantly battling myself over how I look because of what I see and think looks good, determining my self worth by what I look like rather than what I can do. It's wrong, seriously wrong, and on the days I am self-aware enough to see that, I feel completely free and happy, no matter what I look like that day.

You know when I feel best? When I feel healthy, when I am with those I love and when I do good things for myself and others that day. Looking smokin' hot is good too, sometimes, but it's when I determine I look good (also when Steve lets me know). I've discovered over the years that I honestly feel the most beautiful when I love myself for what I do, when I work hard and try my best in any arena. For a big example in my life: exercise.

I could write a book on what I think about the many faces of exercise. "The Good, Bad and Sweaty," I would call it. One things I'm very passionate about is listening to your body, and in terms of exercise, I think it is the key to whatever success you're striving for. I started working out seriously at 14 or 15 because I was overweight and unhappy. It was a good thing, but I went about it in the wrong way. I was exercising just to be skinny, eating only when famished and then feeling guilty about eating. I ended up losing fat and looking good, but in my mind it was never enough, food was never a good thing and my ideal weight was just less than what I weighed, always less.

Like I said, I really could write a book on this, but what I want to say is that I went about this awesome and healthy aspect of life in an extremely unhealthy way. Why? The robots. I wanted to be skinny because that's beautiful. I wanted to look like the happy girls I saw at school who were thin and awesome. This idea scares me more and more for my sons and daughters (I'm going to have the first in the series by March/April of next year) because I want them to value themselves on what they do, not what they look like.

The thing about robots is, they aren't real. They're created by humans to do and say what we tell them to. This is an evil positive feedback loop, my friends. They sell us these thoughts, we buy into them and they sell us more. I don't want to buy any more robot garbage. I want to feel good about myself no matter what a scale says, no matter how others appear or what they say. I want to disillusion myself and others. It's one of the most important things in my mind because women, families and homes are fundamentally important in our life. We would all, in fact, not be here without women. Down with robots and yes to reality. I'll take a cake-baking, hard-working mother of 17 who has a full time job and remembers your birthday over garbage spewed from the mouths of money-licking robots any day.