This is a picture of me that I feel is the most womanly one I have ever had taken. It took me a long time to stop feeling like a girl and actually embrace being a woman. Feeling and enjoying the curves on my body, stop weeping for straight legs and tiny thighs I had long into my teens. I look in the mirror and I see a woman, I see her faults, her blemishes, her fine lines and I think at what point will how I look become unacceptable to Society? At what point will Society redeem me useless as my face begins to wrinkle and my body begins to sag? At what point will I be willing to lay on the operating table, to be gutted of myself like a fish..all of me taken out and 'better' parts put in. One step nearer the mortuary table, one step further away from myself.
I was talking to a documentary maker the other day who has done alot of reality television shows featuring women in Hollywood that have been bleached, poisoned, tightened, plucked and fucked away from themselves. He said that he didn't think the real woman existed underneath anymore, that these women lose themselves so much their souls are banging, banging loudly on the door to them but still, they can't hear it. That if you stripped away the surgeries, the money, their new business ventures of clothing/perfume/outfits for small dogs that all you would be left with is a rotting perfumed corpse, because everything else, every ounce of their purpose and existence has been given away for what...for the pursuit of what...
Oh yes its an old song isn't it, men are like wine and get better with age and women what? Who made that rule? That lines on a mans face are acceptable but on a woman are not attractive. Put an older man under a harsh light and we revel in all the 'character' in his face, put an older woman under it and we look away. Who made that rule? I want to know. Is it our biological preferences or is it our cult...ure?The other day a wonderful woman I know of about 60 was writing about how she went to see a surgeon and he wanted to snip, trim, tuck her away into something else. She decided against it. Thank god, thank god. This woman shines more beauty out into everyone she meets than she can even begin to imagine.
I want to visit these women in the middle of the night when their souls are banging the loudest and say, you can hear it, you are more than this, tell me who you really are, what you lost along the way.
I don't blame them, if the majority of our value as women is put into our youth and how we look, what alternative is there. I am not saying you won't see me lying on the surgeons table in 10 years with my face half off whilst he tries to pull my neck up to my forehead. I cannot say I won't do that.
I am 36 years old and have never felt more empowered or beautiful, yet I am told by society time is running out for me, time is running out.
My soul is knocking though, and I can hear it.