I don't want to play this game anymore

I read this article the other day, and I've been thinking about it ever since. It's about one of those studies that doesn't tell you anything you didn't already know (and why there's a journal for body image, I'm not sure). It seems that from girlhood on, women in this country know that they are expected to engage in fat talk in groups of females. Each woman will denigrate the way her body looks (how fat she is) and then the others will support her by doing the same to themselves and providing compliments. Yeah. That's true:

"My ass is so huge in these pants. I can't eat lunch today."

"You look great. Look at my thighs. Don't they make you want to vomit?"

I did this for years, of course, and it did, in fact, sometimes make me feel better. Or I convinced myself it did. You never really believe the compliments though -- it's all scripted, after all. And you know you're lying when you tell that one girl she looks good.

But I stopped playing this game awhile back. I'll still fall into the trap every once in awhile, but I have so many other more important and enjoyable things to think about, I can't spare the energy.

Plus, the secret is: I like my body. It's not perfect, but nobody's is. But it pleases me, for the most part. It's healthy and does pretty much everything I need it to do without problems. Men seem to like it just fine. I think it's a pretty good one and I'm not going to pretend I don't think so to "make friends." There are looks; I've noticed them when I don't join in. Or, worse, when three women say they hate X body part on themselves and I say, "I like mine."

Out of step, once again, but if only more women would join me. It's a silly study, but the researcher is right when she says if women spent less time worrying about their "fat," they could spend more time and energy leading, influencing and contributing to society. Ladies, admit you're gorgeous and go conquer the world. Time's a-wasting.