For as long as I can remember, women have tried to reach a vogue standard with their bodies. We have consistently strived to attain an hour glass figure, rounded bottom and full perky boobs. From climbing up the treadmill, to running, to jumping ropes, squatting and ketoing, women have plunged themselves into burning excess fat and curves that sometimes aren’t excess at all.
Healthy it is to be fit and trim but like all things, there is a line that when crossed, extremism surfaces.
Following the Uriel “saggy boobs” saga, I have come to realize that (if allowed) a woman becomes a pawn in the unfeeling and remorseless tongue of society. She succumbs and ultimately bends to its many pressures and standardized manual of how and what her body should be.
She is shamed because she is, “too fat”, ” too dark skinned”, “too stretch marks filled”, too everything she is, that we do not want or care to understand.
But one thing we fail to realize is…
A woman’s body is not a comment section, not a place for you to drop your bitterness and insensitivity and walk out because her parts and feelings are not virtual but real.
A woman’s body is not a display of reaction buttons left at your discretion and even if it is, you must click ‘wow’ every goddamn time because she is everything wonderful you must bow too.
A woman’s body is not a share button, for you to pass across and laugh at and point at “flaws” you ignorantly do not see are perfections.
A woman’s body is not a trending topic because the gold hidden in her curves and folds are too expensive for cheap blog visits.
A woman’s body,
is not a comment section.