An excellent piece of evidence that femininity is hilarious or ridiculous in U.S. culture, or even frightening or disgusting, is the fact that men use the category "woman" as a Halloween costume.
These dimples in my skin represent the meals and belly laughs I now share with friends. They represent the time and energy I have claimed and now use to focus on my goal and dreams instead of ever-thinner thighs.
When we challenge ourselves to not "fat talk," we give an incredible gift to our daughters, our family members and our friends. Casually engaging in fat talk with our friends actually reinforces painful body shame and the dieting mind, despite our best intentions.
And thankfully, the ultrasound was fine. There was nothing to worry about after all. It's been an incredible lesson and the start of an amazing journey. I had a feeling it might resonate for you too. Does it?
We are much more ready to have average men posing for underwear ads than we are to have average men figure skate, style our hair, or even do ballet. But I don't want the average man to pose for underwear the same way I would not want him to do ballet.
I'd say that around 70% of the hair-related pins I see in my feed are short, spiky, pixie-style cuts with comments like "Someday I'll work up the nerve" and "Love this look, but just can't pull it off." Short hair, wishful thinking.
When you don't betray yourself by running away, by eating your sorrows, and by drowning your pain in food, you allow space for healing. Your heart begins to mend, your soul begins to shine, and your smile returns.
I thanked someone for telling me, in the least-subtle-way-possible, that I had gained weight. And that this weight gain had made me significantly less attractive.
Buy this! Lose weight! Build big muscles! The media tells our children to look its way 24/7. If you're anything like me, you don't want to take a back seat while advertisers tell our children what to buy, how to feel and how to act.
I admit that it would be nice to pin our body image hang-ups to one dartboard. It would be super keen if we could lay blame at the feet of the music industry, our seventh grade gym teacher or the guy (and let's face it, it was totally a dude) who invented the tube top.
Beauty is not fixed. We make the rules, and we can change them. Today, I'm posting my belly on the Internet for everyone to see.
I've noticed that a side effect of dating in midlife, particularly post-kids, far too often involves shining a flashlight on all of my perceived personality deficits and physical flaws.
With decades of gender equality initiatives and the widespread groundswell for women's empowerment, is this what we really want for our next generation of women?
Brandy Melville, the latest addition to the growing list of Lululemons, Abercrombies and American Apparels -- fashion brands who fail to understand that violating cultural sensibilities by propagating unrealistically thin and tall bodies can undermine their brand's value.
Why do you take and share a selfie? Is it for attention? To build confidence? To build a brand or to entertain? To express? Or to simply and authentically keep your friends, family, and fans up to date on what's going on in your life?
I suppose there's nothing wrong with it, seeing uber-fit young women as a way to imagine and motivate ourselves to go to the gym, but that's not really the kind of inner-motivation I need. Personally I find these type of images a bit demotivational.