Thin

Girls, we obsess.
Obsess over this word, this state of being.
To be waif-like...as small as a potato chip.

Yet, what is the standard?
What is THIN?
And why does it choke us?

The reflection, the deeper you dig, the more you realize how ridiculous if
you are sensible at all.

THIN - the world's definition...emaciated.
It's beautiful to look sickly, and have your bones show.
It's UN-cool to live past 30.
The elite celebrities getting scripts from docs to keep them from eating,
to wake, and
for their eternal sleep.
SHEEP.

But why, even the smartest of us women...
why do we find ourselves analyzing the person we see in the mirror?
Why are our arms too big and thighs fat?
Why is it that we strive to be perfect?
Who are we pleasing?...not ourselves.
When achieved the level of thinness that society sets for us and beyond (i.e. anorexics...bulimics)...
...then are we truly happy?
...then are we in love with ourselves?
...then do we find ourselves as sexy?

NO.

And here again the question proposed...
...Why care about being thin?

Do the males in our lives love us more if we'd lose ten pounds?

We do it for women.
We do it for fashion.
For the destruction of dignity.
For the conformity of being.
To be able to fit in a size 1 dress that disrespects a woman's
TRUE beauty, and REAL FORM.

We are beautiful as we are.
If the dress is too small, then the dress is garbage.
If I were a seamstress I would make the most beautiful gowns,
and place all my girlfriends in front of a mirror...
pointing out the detailed brilliance of THEM.
Internal and external...
without the word
THIN
to restrict them.