" Thigh gaps.
Flat stomachs.
Curvy hips.
Long hair.
Protruding collar bones.
Large boobs.
I am expectations.
I am standards.
I am not enough.
I am Society’s daughter.
From the day we emerge from the womb, we are raised not by our parents, but by the media.
From the day we emerge into the world that will show us no mercy, we are nothing but the slaves of society, ready to be whipped and tortured into the perfection we will never reach.
It is with horror that I say that I fell victim to this insanity. I let myself bow down to the communism of looks, the Hitler of femininity, the evil of societal standards. I let myself be ruled by men who will never understand what it is like to be a woman.
I let myself stand in the shower, caressing myself with the claws of desperation, painting myself with the hues of my blood, pain, tears, anger, envy, longing, desire, depression, self-loathing, hatred, drawing over the temple that is my body with fingertips that seek nothing but answers to the burning curiosity rooted within me: Am I good enough?
I have asked myself countless times: Am I good enough? Pretty enough? Loud enough? Sexy enough?
But I know better now.
So when I have a daughter, when I have a child who is crying to me about not being skinny enough, mature enough, pretty enough, sexy enough to be deemed fuckable by the men of our society, the same men who do not know her, her smile, the sparkle in her eyes when she laughs, the redness of her skin when she cries, her favorite animal, her middle name, her, and know nothing of her but the size of her breasts, I will speak to her.
I will tell her the truth. I will tell her the secret of surviving in this society.
I will tell her that she is worth more than strange men who would or would not want to paint her body with their claws. I will tell her she is worth more than the color of her hair. I will tell her she is worth more than that short dress that doesn’t make her ass look perfect. I will tell her she is worth more than that Sephora gift card. I will tell her she is worth more than a double zero. I will tell her that she is worth more than a 34C. I will tell her she is worth more than the goddamn credentials that prove that a girl is suitable to be fucked.
That she is enough.
That she is not standards.
That she is not expectations.
And I, mark my words, I will fucking tell her that she is more than large boobs.
Protruding collar bones
Long hair.
Curvy hips.
Flat stomachs.
Thigh gaps.
I will raise her as my own goddamn child, not as Society’s daughter. "
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