Hypocrisy at its Saddest

Women can be such hypocrites sometimes. There, I said it. We claim we want men who like us for our brains and not our bodies. We claim we want society to see us as people and not objects for men to own. We want to be accomplished human beings and not trophy wives. Now, it’s true that we want all this, but how can we expect others to see us as people when we can’t do so ourselves?

After all the fighting, all the stands we have taken against sexism, we still see ourselves as objects. We want to be pretty objects with zero figures, flawless skin, mascara-ed eyes, and painted lips and faces. We starve ourselves to achieve the first and spend lots and lots of money on possibly very harmful chemicals to achieve the rest. Is that seriously all we are still about?  There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look good – it increases our self confidence. We don’t want to look like savages or wild animals who just got out of the woods, and that’s understandable. But obsessively spending hours in front of the mirror cursing ourselves for every little flaw, every part of our skin that hangs, every pimple, every imperfect nail and puking to lose weight while men don’t worry about such superficial things and actually use their time productively – is it all worth the self hate, pity, and physical and mental torture?

We want to get ahead in the world. We want to be equal to men. Heck, we ARE their equals. Nevertheless, we hesitate in acting like it. We let them be imperfect, say boys will be boys and let them flaunt their flaws. We don’t judge them for every little imperfection in their appearance or see them count every carb they ingest. Let’s be fair. Let’s treat ourselves the same way. We’re better than objects, let’s not confine ourselves to their physical limits. Let’s be more. Let’s be ABOUT more. More than our body; More than our skin; More than our painted faces and More than our weight. Let’s be Humans, and not just perfect looking shells of them with corrupt bodies and tortured souls.