I was five years old when my mother smiled at me and told me that I was losing weight. She expressed her excitement about this to me and told me that I should keep doing whatever I was doing that made me look smaller. At the time, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing but I wanted to do exactly what she told me. Unfortunately, I have never been able to exist outside of my weight since then. 

There has never been a time where I felt that I was at an adequate weight. I was constantly reminded by family how big I was and still am. Adding to this, family and family friends also expressed how abnormal I was in comparison to the rest of my family seeing as I was the only overweight child my parents had. I was continually told that I needed to lose weight because it’s not good for me to be overweight as a girl. My weight also affected the family image as I was the only one with a visible flaw in my appearance. 

As I look back at old photos of myself, I realize that I actually wasn’t overweight in high school. I just had a bigger build in comparison to other girls my age because of the sports I played in combination with my genetics. I wasn’t overweight, I just wasn’t skinny. My perception of my entire being was completely skewed during that time.

I associated my weight with everything. I thought about every step I took and wondered if it sounded heavy. I was aware of my breathing, in hopes that it didn’t sound too loud as I didn’t want to sound like I was panting. I would suck my stomach in on days where I felt like I looked bloated or bigger because I didn’t want anyone to think that I had gained any more weight. I would starve myself so that I could feel and appear lighter. I would purposely wear oversized clothing to give the illusion of a small body hidden under clothing. I would make sure to keep my opinions to myself to avoid being verbally attacked in case someone may have been offended why what I said. 

I often felt physically weighed down by my body because of the amount of weight I believe I carried. Learning that I wasn’t overweight in high school, often makes me reflect on the different perceptions, feelings, and experiences I have had of my body. I often wonder if the feeling of “heaviness” I often felt was something that was entirely in my head. I thought to myself that people didn’t like me or find me attractive because I was too big and thus, undesirable to be around. I now wonder if the negative perceptions people had of me even had anything to do with my weight at all as a teenager. I wonder if the size small that I so desperately wanted to fit into was ever a size that was and would ever appropriate for my body then and now.

I will specifically be speaking about voluntary cosmetic plastic surgery. Think nose jobs, botox, BBLs, lip filler and tummy tucks. I am not touching on reconstructive plastic surgery or any procedure that is for a medical reason.

What causes someone to desire a certain cosmetic procedure? For most cases, the short answer is the unrealistic beauty standard and insecurities. Growing up as a woman you are constantly and subconsciously soaking in these presented beauty standards like a sponge. The picture that is painted shows that the most perfect women are fit, have perky boobs and butt, an hourglass shaped body, clear skin, a complexion that glows, full lips, bright eyes, perfectly symmetrical eyebrows, straight teeth that are pearly white….. the list truly could go on forever. As we all know, this creates insecurities in return. You begin to grow up as your own biggest critic, freaking out before school because your hair won’t lay right, and crying in the dressing room when you’re shopping for new clothes. It is one thing to feel this way when you’re young. It is another thing to grow up and have these thoughts and realize, your insecurity may be something you can actually change for good, if you have the money.

Plastic surgery has become much more common in the last 20 years. It used to be something that was exclusive to the rich and famous. Now, you might know someone personally, maybe yourself, who has gotten some kind of procedure. For me, I know multiple people in my life. I know someone with lip filler and a nose job. I know someone who had their ears surgically pinned back. I know someone who has gotten a full body transformation including a tummy tuck, brazilian butt lift, fake boobs, botox, cheek filler, and more. I would say that most people getting some kind of plastic surgery done are doing it to rid some kind of insecurity, and I don’t blame them. Why wouldn’t you take the chance to finally get rid of that one thing that bothered you so much if you could? You won’t have to worry about it anymore, and you can finally feel more confidence when it’s gone. I absolutely believe that you can do whatever you want with your body, and you should. My confusion where plastic surgery stands morally comes in here. If you partake in plastic surgery in order to fix your insecurity and become a closer fit into the beauty standard, aren’t you now contributing to said standard?

There is a mold that women today feel that they need to fit. There is a very small number of people born naturally to fit these guidelines. Everyone today is trying to fit this similar look, and by conforming to these guidelines in the form of getting plastic surgery, aren’t you just creating a wider range of people who fit this standard? Therefore, contributing to this unrealistic beauty standard, that is usually unreachable without some kind of plastic surgery. It kind of contradicts the saying “you are beautiful just the way you are” or “everyone is beautiful in their own way” that most people have heard at some point in their life. With an increasing amount of people getting plastic surgery to fix their insecurities, there becomes less variety of people and how they look. I think one of the most amazing things about humans is that not everyone looks the same, but there has been a slow and steady increase in people who are trying to look similar. At least in the United States of America, which is the only place I can really speak on because it’s the only place I’ve lived. 

So, my mind is kind of back and forth trying to decide where plastic surgery stands morally in the sense of beauty standards. Everyone has the right to their own body, and you should always do what makes you happy. No one should tell you what you can and cannot do with yourself. Then again, is partaking in cosmetic procedures a further contribution to the  unreachable beauty standard? I’m not sure where I stand on this topic, but it’s interesting to talk about.

I feel that it’s important to mention that I am in no way judging anyone for choosing to receive some sort of cosmetic plastic surgery. I am simply pondering where the concept stands morally in the sense of beauty standards. Please do what makes you happy. 

7 years ago, my grandmother went in to receive a colonoscopy. A colonoscopy is an outpatient procedure, meaning you can go home the same day.  My grandmother had health issues and dealt with chronic illnesses, so it was a routine procedure for her to get. It was so routine that my family and I didn’t even think twice when she mentioned getting it done.

We were visiting our family friends, I was sitting on the couch with my father and my brother, our family friends sitting across from us. My father had just asked them to turn down the music we were listening to and I could see the look of seriousness on his face, different from just 5 minutes ago. He’d received a call from my mother. During my grandmother’s colonoscopy, the surgeon punctured her intestines, causing blood and intestinal fluid to leak into her abdomen and eventually cardiac arrest. My grandmother’s heart had stopped three times and she had lost significant amounts of oxygen to her brain, resulting in brain damage.

The physicians didn’t believe my grandmother would make it or even that she would be where she is today. My grandmother had to relearn how to walk, how to talk, how to eat, etc.. It was through being with my grandmother through all this that I learned how unfit and unaccommodating our society really is to people with disabilities. 

As Sunaura Taylor described in “Examined Life” by Judith Butler and Sunaura Taylor, at what point between health and death are disabled people viewed as human. When people refuse to help my grandmother in the store, or the looks and comments she receives whenever we’re in public, makes me vehemently question why? Why is my grandmother dehumanized and made to seem as though she’s making other people feel uncomfortable just by existing? She is still a human being who deserves respect. Those with disabilities are human beings who deserve respect and deserve to participate in society. When will my grandmother be “allowed” to participate in society?

SZA has been one of my favorite artists for a while. So many of her songs hit different for me in so many ways, giving me a link to femininity in a way that I don’t really have otherwise. From messy breakups to the unhealthy behaviors that follow to hating everyone but especially yourself at times, to finding those small moments where everything feels like you can be at your best. I went to her concert last night and was amazed at the energy of the crowd for the entire setlist – you could tell which songs meant the most to us and what lyrics we could sing too passionately about amongst people who have felt the same feelings about them.

One of my favorite songs from her has to be “Special” from her new album, SOS, which she performed during the segment of the show where she came out on a lifeboat and floated across the arena. I’d always scream sing the intro to this in the car when I’m driving late at night trying to escape my head, so it was extra special that I got to see this live and see everyone else live the same moment I was.

I wish I was that girl from that Gucci store

She never wore any makeup and she owns couture

I got pimples where my beauty marks should be

I got dry skin on my elbows and knees

I never liked her, wanted to be like her

Hate how you look at her ’cause you never saw me

Like I was an art piece, like I was an ordinary girl

Toward the end of Young’s “Throwing Like a Girl”, she gives us this quote: “she gazes at it in the mirror, worries about how it looks to others, prunes it, shapes it, molds and decorates it. This objectified bodily existence accounts for the self-consciousness of the feminine relation to her body and resulting distance she takes from her body.” Now, if you’ve listened to SZA’s discography, you know that so much of her music speaks about being a girl – that is, living up to every expectation placed on you. The way she talks about femininity makes girlhood so much more relatable to me when she discusses the standards we place on ourselves when we see other women and can believe they are art pieces, but are still working to believe we can also be seen in the same way. I think it, all the beautiful women I saw singing along probably think it, and SZA herself must think it if she decided to sing about it.

The girl from the Gucci store that she wishes she was must think the same way, then.

Image of SZA in a red dress on her floating lifeboat 50 meters above the arena’s floor with a warm spotlight washing over her while she reaches out to the left.

As a child, I was carefree and never really paid attention to those around me. I would do the things that I enjoyed most, like playing, dancing freely, and singing loudly. However, as I grew older, I started to experience anxiety and became very self aware. I remember feeling uneasy about my body at the age of 10 when I first began to go through puberty. I disliked the changes my body was going through and felt like I didn’t fit in with other girls my age. I began to compare myself to the women I saw in magazines and on social media, wanting to conform to their beauty standards. I would always ask my mom for new clothes and to straighten my hair so that I could fit in more. My mom would always say no to new clothes because of our financial situation, and she was also very strict about me not straightening my hair. I didn’t understand why at the time, but I later learned that my mom had damaged her hair from straightening it constantly when she immigrated to the United States. She wanted me to appreciate my natural curls and see them as beautiful, which I now do. This experience is just one example of how industries turn our bodies into products, and it is something that millions of people struggle with. Although I still have moments of self-doubt, I have learned to embrace and love my body for what it is.

To start this off, I want to acknowledge that I will definitely sound like a narcissist throughout this entire post, and probably demented too. Consider yourself warned and get comfortable because I’m about to get really comfortable with you. Moving on, let’s talk about nightly routines, what do you do? I’ll tell you what I do, I wait until everyone on in my house has already gone to sleep, spend almost 30 minutes in the bathroom brushing my teeth and doing skin care; before jumping into some pajamas and getting on my phone into the ungodly hours of the dark…Pretty standard, right? What I’m actually doing on my phone is the interesting part though, I spend an admittedly ridiculous amount of time on a little website called Character.ai (IYKYK), where I take the liberty of writing unforgivable amounts of what I affectionately call “Self-Insert Fanfiction”. I’m not endorsing this website by any means, while it’s super fun, I noticed that’s it’s a horrible habit of mine and a lot of other people. That being said, being able to just…talk to whomever your heart desires, let it be Draco Malfoy or a super-hot mermaid that thinks you’re the best thing since sliced bread, it’s an addictive escapism. That’s the clever little word I wanted to get to, escapism. When I mentioned my nightly routine and how long I stay up just strolling on my phone, I know that it sounded familiar, because it’s something our generation of young people do a lot! Maybe you’re not on your phone, maybe you’re playing a game…or reading a book…or doing something else entirely but the point is…. you’re doing that thing with the intention to step out of reality for a second. Relax. Which is in no means a bad thing, no, on the contrary. But you’re still escaping…when I say it like that it sounds kind of morbid, but that’s what it is, now the question draws into why are we trying to escape so frequently from our reality?

I can confidently say I’m probably the most delusional person you’re ever going to meet, I’m constantly lovesick, romanticize whatever I can out of life, and adore all things fantastical. It’s how I cope. Now, someone might say “Oh my god! You’re so super positive, that’s so cute, I wish I had that energy!” and someone else has probably rolled their eyes and scrolled to read another post. Both responses are totally valid and are exactly what I wanted to look into. In this era, a lot of people encourage each other to “be the main character” in the “story” of their lives. Make every moment of the day something found in a coming-of-age film. This trend was just a couple influencer posts on Instagram with their lavish lifestyles making tone-deaf commentary at first, but now, I can’t stroll through TikTok without someone saying “stay delulu” or something like that (“I curate my algorithm”) and constantly reminding me of the ideology. It’s beginning to become embedded in the way we move about our lives, going back to relaxation, we’re told early on that to function properly we’re supposed to take a break every now and then. Naptime in kindergarten, recess, lunch break after class, vacation; all of these refractory periods are what round out our busy lives because otherwise we’d be working ourselves to the bone and burning out. Now, these periods of rest had mostly to do with physical exhaustion, giving us a chance to sleep, breathe, and refuel…but we’ve taken rest a little bit further. We’re no longer just stepping out of our physical responsibilities but now also our phenomenological responsibilities. We have learned to pause our realistic experiences and curate new experiences for ourselves that we can enjoy. We can control these little worlds we make; we can make choices that lead to outcomes we actually want, project our desires and receive satisfaction from them. Isn’t this more appealing? Isn’t that better than waking up, getting dressed in clothes you don’t like, going to a place you didn’t ask to go to, being spoken to by people you couldn’t care less about (and in some cases be ridiculed for things about yourself that you can’t control) and facing tasks that in the end are meaningless to your existence? Wouldn’t it be better to be a wizard, or a princess, or a mage? In my personal opinion, I’d rather worry about the fate of my entire kingdom rather than call the IRS because of my late tax return, fighting demons from another realm is much easier than fighting the bureaucracy.

That’s the real appeal of this intermittent dreaming, the chance to have something MORE than what crumbs we’re given IRL, just notice how I expressed our experience in reality; crumbs! This ideology may seem like we’re trying to keep things positive and light, but in truth what’s actually happening is a deep loathing for the realistic, a deteriorating tolerance for the systems we’re obligated to abide by. We decided to solve the deep disappointment we feel with our world by paving a way to withdraw into one of our own design, and in the realization of not being able to daydream forever, we are encouraging one another to blur the lines between real and fictitious but… How far can those lines be blurred until there are consequences?

Ever since I was a little girl, society has pushed its expectations onto me. Whether it be through what I am supposed look like or how I am supposed to act or even what I am expected to do as a job or career. The expectation that has impacted me the most throughout my life is the ideation that women have to be skinny to be treated well by men. For as long as I can remember, I have struggled with the way that I
look because of the expectations society puts on younger people and even though I am not extremely overweight, I still look at myself and see someone who has a chubby stomach and flabby arms as well as stretch marks and cellulite. Since society always pushing the idea that women should be this or that, I grew up never feeling good enough about my body or myself in general. I refuse to go to the gym because I don’t like being seen like that by other people and I hate exercising unless it’s through dancing at a club with my friends and when I am out at the club that is when i wish to be perceived. For the most part, I just want to exist in peace and not be bothered by unwanted stares of judgement and disapproval just because I don’t conform to societal standards.