Brittney J.
"I am not defined by my shopping list."
Growing up, I never had the right clothes. My parents weren’t poor, but they weren’t rich, either. And they gave my siblings and me a yearly budget for new school clothes. This budget meant I could either buy a bunch of mediocre clothes or a few hot, in style items. Although i always wanted the Abercrombie jeans and Hollister t-shirts, they were just too expensive. So every year, I wore Target brand clothes. And every year, I was never part of the “cool” group at school.
In high school, this experience was amplified. I went to high school in a district that coincided with Sugarloaf Country Club, meaning I went to school with some of the richest people in the state. They drove brand new BMW’s and hummers, carried Coach and Fendi purses to class, and wore the most name brand clothing money could buy. There was no hope for me.
Although throughout high school I learned to resent these people and make fun of them for their shallow tendencies, it was still hard. Because making friends in high school is nearly impossible if you don’t fit in to the right clique. And as much as I said i didn’t care, I did. and i developed extreme self-image issues. And for two years, I struggled with anorexia. I thought that if I couldn’t control my wardrobe, if I couldn’t make myself dress better, or have the right hairstyles, at least I could be thinner than them.
Even now, years later, I find myself losing weight unintentionally because of these deep seeded issues I have with my appearance. Of course now I don’t care about what I drive, as long as I get to where I need to be. And I really don’t care what I wear downtown because I’m not looking to get taken home by anyone. Even after all the feminist literature I’ve read, the advertising classes I've taken, I still find myself questioning my validity and my worth as a person in our college town and in our society.
But I refuse to let this happen, anymore. I refuse to be labeled and judged because of how much money I make and the things that I can afford because of that. Whether or not I drink the right drinks or wear the right shoes or have the right sunglasses, I am still a wonderful person. And I still have feelings. I’m just like you, just not as cool. And I’m ok with that. I don’t need to buy something to make me feel better about myself. No, I just need to be surrounded by people who see through all the shallow, insecurities, too.
I refuse to feel bad about myself. And I refuse to let you judge me. Because your opinion doesn’t matter. I am beautiful and worthy because I exist. And you are, too.
Lacey W.
Growing up, I never had the right clothes. My parents weren’t poor, but they weren’t rich, either. And they gave my siblings and me a yearly budget for new school clothes. This budget meant I could either buy a bunch of mediocre clothes or a few hot, in style items. Although i always wanted the Abercrombie jeans and Hollister t-shirts, they were just too expensive. So every year, I wore Target brand clothes. And every year, I was never part of the “cool” group at school.
In high school, this experience was amplified. I went to high school in a district that coincided with Sugarloaf Country Club, meaning I went to school with some of the richest people in the state. They drove brand new BMW’s and hummers, carried Coach and Fendi purses to class, and wore the most name brand clothing money could buy. There was no hope for me.
Although throughout high school I learned to resent these people and make fun of them for their shallow tendencies, it was still hard. Because making friends in high school is nearly impossible if you don’t fit in to the right clique. And as much as I said i didn’t care, I did. and i developed extreme self-image issues. And for two years, I struggled with anorexia. I thought that if I couldn’t control my wardrobe, if I couldn’t make myself dress better, or have the right hairstyles, at least I could be thinner than them.
Even now, years later, I find myself losing weight unintentionally because of these deep seeded issues I have with my appearance. Of course now I don’t care about what I drive, as long as I get to where I need to be. And I really don’t care what I wear downtown because I’m not looking to get taken home by anyone. Even after all the feminist literature I’ve read, the advertising classes I've taken, I still find myself questioning my validity and my worth as a person in our college town and in our society.
But I refuse to let this happen, anymore. I refuse to be labeled and judged because of how much money I make and the things that I can afford because of that. Whether or not I drink the right drinks or wear the right shoes or have the right sunglasses, I am still a wonderful person. And I still have feelings. I’m just like you, just not as cool. And I’m ok with that. I don’t need to buy something to make me feel better about myself. No, I just need to be surrounded by people who see through all the shallow, insecurities, too.
I refuse to feel bad about myself. And I refuse to let you judge me. Because your opinion doesn’t matter. I am beautiful and worthy because I exist. And you are, too.
Lacey W.
"Woman is beautiful."
I grew up in a household with all male influences. With two older brothers, one younger brother, and nothing but male cousins, trying to find my sense of “female” was really hard. I mean, yes, I had my mom there to guide me, but with three boys running around and destroying the house on a daily basis, eating all the food, and fighting with each other, she didn’t have much time to teach me how to put on makeup or curl my hair.
So besides my friends at school, the only real place I had to look to for help was fashion magazines and television shows pertaining to shopping. Those are the ways I learned what it meant to be a woman. I remember distinctly looking up on Google the right way to apply eyeliner because I knew I had to be doing it wrong. It was moments like this that shaped the young woman I thought I should be in high school. It wasn’t until I got to college that I realized there was something wrong with this.
When I came to UGA, I joined a sorority, and for the first time in my life, I was utterly surrounded by women. I heard all new things about body image and general attractiveness. I was none of those things. At first it was really disheartening, to hear about how many women tried so hard to look good, just to feel bad about themselves at the end of the day. That’s when I decided, it doesn’t matter what you look like or how you do your makeup or what clothes you wear, being a woman is beautiful, and you don’t need to see something in a fashion magazine or The Odyssey for you to feel like a beautiful person.
Katie C.
I grew up in a household with all male influences. With two older brothers, one younger brother, and nothing but male cousins, trying to find my sense of “female” was really hard. I mean, yes, I had my mom there to guide me, but with three boys running around and destroying the house on a daily basis, eating all the food, and fighting with each other, she didn’t have much time to teach me how to put on makeup or curl my hair.
So besides my friends at school, the only real place I had to look to for help was fashion magazines and television shows pertaining to shopping. Those are the ways I learned what it meant to be a woman. I remember distinctly looking up on Google the right way to apply eyeliner because I knew I had to be doing it wrong. It was moments like this that shaped the young woman I thought I should be in high school. It wasn’t until I got to college that I realized there was something wrong with this.
When I came to UGA, I joined a sorority, and for the first time in my life, I was utterly surrounded by women. I heard all new things about body image and general attractiveness. I was none of those things. At first it was really disheartening, to hear about how many women tried so hard to look good, just to feel bad about themselves at the end of the day. That’s when I decided, it doesn’t matter what you look like or how you do your makeup or what clothes you wear, being a woman is beautiful, and you don’t need to see something in a fashion magazine or The Odyssey for you to feel like a beautiful person.
Katie C.
"Yes, I do feel sexy when I'm on my period."
Being a girl sucks. Now, don’t get me wrong, I definitely wouldn’t rather be a guy, but being a girl is so much more work than a guy would ever have to put up with. On top of that? We have periods. Yep, I said it. The “P” word. Every girl has to deal with it. But no one talks about it. It’s like the best kept, most embarrassing secret millions of people share. But I’m here to say it once and for all: I still feel sexy, even when I’m on my period
When I was in middle school, and that dreaded day came when it started, I seriously thought my life was over. No going swimming for me! No way. No wearing white shorts ever again. Legitimately, for years I was terrified every time I walked out of the house when I was on my period. What if I forget to bring a tampon? What if I stain my clothes? Trust me, it was as hard to deal with as it is to read this.
After a while, though, I got over it. Now I walk around with a “Who-gives-a-shit?” attitude. If something happens, it happens. Sure, it might embarrass me for a few minutes, but whatever. I’m a sexy woman, regardless of the time of the month. I am not going to be terrified for four days, twelve times a year. That’s a waste of time and a waste of energy. I’m not worried anymore, I just focus on me and how awesome I am. People see that and want to be around it. Even if they can’t sleep with me for a few days.
Haley H.
Being a girl sucks. Now, don’t get me wrong, I definitely wouldn’t rather be a guy, but being a girl is so much more work than a guy would ever have to put up with. On top of that? We have periods. Yep, I said it. The “P” word. Every girl has to deal with it. But no one talks about it. It’s like the best kept, most embarrassing secret millions of people share. But I’m here to say it once and for all: I still feel sexy, even when I’m on my period
When I was in middle school, and that dreaded day came when it started, I seriously thought my life was over. No going swimming for me! No way. No wearing white shorts ever again. Legitimately, for years I was terrified every time I walked out of the house when I was on my period. What if I forget to bring a tampon? What if I stain my clothes? Trust me, it was as hard to deal with as it is to read this.
After a while, though, I got over it. Now I walk around with a “Who-gives-a-shit?” attitude. If something happens, it happens. Sure, it might embarrass me for a few minutes, but whatever. I’m a sexy woman, regardless of the time of the month. I am not going to be terrified for four days, twelve times a year. That’s a waste of time and a waste of energy. I’m not worried anymore, I just focus on me and how awesome I am. People see that and want to be around it. Even if they can’t sleep with me for a few days.
Haley H.
"Imperfections are what make me, me."
Ever since I was ten years old I can remember being self conscious about the way I looked. I felt I was judged by either the measurements of my body or clothes that I chose to wear. Where do I believe my body image problems originated from? Well I find that my answer is as simple as the media around the world. Media, whether in magazines, television, movies, or other sources of entertainment have a tremendous impact on how I view my body. When flipping through any popular magazine you can see advertisements and articles figuring women who seem to fit the image of “perfect”.
While I know there is no exact answer for what the perfect woman looks like let’s look at what a life size Barbie’s measurements would be. The life size Barbie would stand at six feet tall, weigh 100 pounds, be a size four, and have the measurements of 39”/21”/33”, in the bust, waist, and hips respectively. Obviously these body type for a healthy woman is unrealistic and nearly impossible, but this is what children all over the world are presented with at a significantly young age. In many ways it is sad to think that we look up to, and in some senses idolize, women who try to achieve nearly these same proportions.
Back in the twentieth century, Marilyn Monroe was looked at by men as a sex symbol and by women as idealistic. Marilyn Monroe was not afraid to show off her realistic, imperfect body because it was exactly this; hers. This is exactly what our media in current day lacks; women willing to show off what makes them unique, and somewhat imperfect, than other women around them. What most women see when they look at the women in magazines and movies is their tiny frames, gorgeous hair and makeup, and envy-worthy clothing. Unfortunately, what most women do not realize is the stress and unhealthiness some stars put their bodies through, or the long hours that professionals spent on doing their hair and layering on makeup. Until the media starts to includes and focus on the “average” woman and the beauty that comes along with imperfections, I feel that nothing is going to stop myself, my peers, and future generations from possessing self confidence issues when it comes to our bodies.
Suzanne Z.
Ever since I was ten years old I can remember being self conscious about the way I looked. I felt I was judged by either the measurements of my body or clothes that I chose to wear. Where do I believe my body image problems originated from? Well I find that my answer is as simple as the media around the world. Media, whether in magazines, television, movies, or other sources of entertainment have a tremendous impact on how I view my body. When flipping through any popular magazine you can see advertisements and articles figuring women who seem to fit the image of “perfect”.
While I know there is no exact answer for what the perfect woman looks like let’s look at what a life size Barbie’s measurements would be. The life size Barbie would stand at six feet tall, weigh 100 pounds, be a size four, and have the measurements of 39”/21”/33”, in the bust, waist, and hips respectively. Obviously these body type for a healthy woman is unrealistic and nearly impossible, but this is what children all over the world are presented with at a significantly young age. In many ways it is sad to think that we look up to, and in some senses idolize, women who try to achieve nearly these same proportions.
Back in the twentieth century, Marilyn Monroe was looked at by men as a sex symbol and by women as idealistic. Marilyn Monroe was not afraid to show off her realistic, imperfect body because it was exactly this; hers. This is exactly what our media in current day lacks; women willing to show off what makes them unique, and somewhat imperfect, than other women around them. What most women see when they look at the women in magazines and movies is their tiny frames, gorgeous hair and makeup, and envy-worthy clothing. Unfortunately, what most women do not realize is the stress and unhealthiness some stars put their bodies through, or the long hours that professionals spent on doing their hair and layering on makeup. Until the media starts to includes and focus on the “average” woman and the beauty that comes along with imperfections, I feel that nothing is going to stop myself, my peers, and future generations from possessing self confidence issues when it comes to our bodies.
Suzanne Z.
"I don't look like the girls in the magazine, and I love that."
This past Halloween, I was naked. That was my costume. I was dressed in a nude leotard with x’s in the appropriate (or rather inappropriate) places. I’m not going to lie, I was nervous at first when I put on the costume because my body is not a cookie cutter image of what society defines as beautiful. I am a curvaceous woman with boobs, hips, thighs, and ass galore. Now, I embrace every curve of my body and am extremely confident in the way that I look, but for a short time on Halloween night my old insecurities that I had in elementary school, middle school, and on into high school came flooding back. “Do I look fat in this? I mean do I look okay?” My friend, Cory, looked at me like I was crazy when I asked him and that’s all I needed to jolt me back to reality. “You look hot, Suzanne,” is what I kept saying to myself in my head. “As long as you’re confident and you think you look good then other people will too.” It’s easy now to snap out of it and turn off that destructive thinking, but this wasn’t the case throughout most of my adolescence.
I have always looked different. I was always way ahead of other girls my age in terms of how quickly my body developed. I went straight from the children’s department to the women’s department. There was no junior’s section for me. When I was 13, I distinctly remember being hit on by a man in his mid-twenties when I was volunteering at a Petsmart because he thought I was 18. (He stopped hitting on me when my mother came over.) I was pudgy, had glasses, and was wearing a real bra, not a training bra, by fifth grade. Thankfully, my pudginess went away when I went through puberty because I got taller and it all migrated to by boobs, my hips, or my ass, and I discovered contacts. My “looking different” was the cause of so many tears, mini-breakdowns, and depressions as I was growing up. I remember crying to my mother on a regular basis asking her, “Why don’t I look like other girls my age?” “Why don’t I look like Britney Spears?” “I wish I could look like them.” Everything around me, my peers, television, music, magazines, all made me like I wasn’t normal…like there was something wrong with me because I didn’t look the way that I felt I was supposed to look. When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see Britney Spears’s perfect flat stomach and slender hips looking back at me. I saw a fat, unhappy little girl with glasses who never saw herself as pretty. Oh, and as of seventh grade, you can add braces to that list too. It wasn’t until about halfway through my freshman year in high school that I started to feel pretty. I got my braces off, got rid of my glasses, and was finally learning how to dress my womanly figure. I was beginning to come into my own.
I have found new women to look up to like Christina Hendricks and Tyra Banks, two women who revel in their curves just like me. My confidence has grown leaps and bounds and I am no longer ashamed of my reflection. I have no issues with my body and that’s not something many 20 year-olds can say. Of course, I still have my days where I’m not feeling as hot as I normally do, but those are few and far between. I love my body now. I look at myself in the mirror now and think, “Damn, I look good” with my clothes on and off. I am just as confident naked as I am in jeans and an old t-shirt. I no longer compare myself to the women around because I am special and I am different. There is no one in the world like me and I love that.
Ohara R. (Not Pictured)
This past Halloween, I was naked. That was my costume. I was dressed in a nude leotard with x’s in the appropriate (or rather inappropriate) places. I’m not going to lie, I was nervous at first when I put on the costume because my body is not a cookie cutter image of what society defines as beautiful. I am a curvaceous woman with boobs, hips, thighs, and ass galore. Now, I embrace every curve of my body and am extremely confident in the way that I look, but for a short time on Halloween night my old insecurities that I had in elementary school, middle school, and on into high school came flooding back. “Do I look fat in this? I mean do I look okay?” My friend, Cory, looked at me like I was crazy when I asked him and that’s all I needed to jolt me back to reality. “You look hot, Suzanne,” is what I kept saying to myself in my head. “As long as you’re confident and you think you look good then other people will too.” It’s easy now to snap out of it and turn off that destructive thinking, but this wasn’t the case throughout most of my adolescence.
I have always looked different. I was always way ahead of other girls my age in terms of how quickly my body developed. I went straight from the children’s department to the women’s department. There was no junior’s section for me. When I was 13, I distinctly remember being hit on by a man in his mid-twenties when I was volunteering at a Petsmart because he thought I was 18. (He stopped hitting on me when my mother came over.) I was pudgy, had glasses, and was wearing a real bra, not a training bra, by fifth grade. Thankfully, my pudginess went away when I went through puberty because I got taller and it all migrated to by boobs, my hips, or my ass, and I discovered contacts. My “looking different” was the cause of so many tears, mini-breakdowns, and depressions as I was growing up. I remember crying to my mother on a regular basis asking her, “Why don’t I look like other girls my age?” “Why don’t I look like Britney Spears?” “I wish I could look like them.” Everything around me, my peers, television, music, magazines, all made me like I wasn’t normal…like there was something wrong with me because I didn’t look the way that I felt I was supposed to look. When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see Britney Spears’s perfect flat stomach and slender hips looking back at me. I saw a fat, unhappy little girl with glasses who never saw herself as pretty. Oh, and as of seventh grade, you can add braces to that list too. It wasn’t until about halfway through my freshman year in high school that I started to feel pretty. I got my braces off, got rid of my glasses, and was finally learning how to dress my womanly figure. I was beginning to come into my own.
I have found new women to look up to like Christina Hendricks and Tyra Banks, two women who revel in their curves just like me. My confidence has grown leaps and bounds and I am no longer ashamed of my reflection. I have no issues with my body and that’s not something many 20 year-olds can say. Of course, I still have my days where I’m not feeling as hot as I normally do, but those are few and far between. I love my body now. I look at myself in the mirror now and think, “Damn, I look good” with my clothes on and off. I am just as confident naked as I am in jeans and an old t-shirt. I no longer compare myself to the women around because I am special and I am different. There is no one in the world like me and I love that.
Ohara R. (Not Pictured)
"We are all to be appreciated and respected."
When I was younger I wanted to be a movie star. I liked to sing. I liked to dance. I loved to be dramatic. What else could I possibly be destined to be? However, we all know that sometimes that fades. I remember the time period in which my desire to be the center of attention faded. I was in the seventh grade. The cuteness of my youth had started to wear off, my baby fat just turned into chubbiness, and the horrible acne had set in. Now, I cannot say that this phase is not typical of almost all pre-teen girls. So as most of us do, I pressed through. By the time I was in the tenth grade I was pretty much done with my awkward phase. I had good friends, a great family, and you would think that I was the happiest person on the planet due to my general bubbly disposition. It was rare that I ever talked to anyone about my self confidence issues. I will preface what I say next by saying that I have never been a small girl. Even today, where I am at the smallest I’ve been in a while, I would still be considered a pretty thick girl, and to be completely honest I have never felt comfortable with myself until the last couple of months.
For so long I have been under false pretenses of what beauty truly was. When you turn on the television what type of women do you see in commercials? You see thin, toned, flawless women. These women are on billboards and in magazines; they are everywhere. What does it take to look like they do? I would think to myself, “You're not that pretty Ohara, you are not small or petit, you are not graceful, your skin is not flawless, your feet are too big. Boys will never like you because you are not the type of girl to turn heads. You don’t look like a model, and you never will.” There is a mold of beauty that is projected into society, and it can be hard to shake.
It took me almost 22 years to realize that what you see on television and in magazines is not the average woman. These women have been sculpted, air brushed and tons of make up has been applied. I read somewhere that the average size in the United States is not a four, but a twelve. Once I stopped seeking to look like the women I saw in the media, I was able to be comfortable with myself and accept my own beauty. Now I don’t care that I’m not small, have big feet, and get pimples from time to time. Each woman is different, each woman has flaws, and each woman will have insecurities. We are human, there is no way around that. However, with all of that said, we are all to be appreciated and respected. I hate that we have to go through so much before we come to this conclusion, but most of us power through, and eventually we do realize that we are all special and beautiful.
Melissa M.
When I was younger I wanted to be a movie star. I liked to sing. I liked to dance. I loved to be dramatic. What else could I possibly be destined to be? However, we all know that sometimes that fades. I remember the time period in which my desire to be the center of attention faded. I was in the seventh grade. The cuteness of my youth had started to wear off, my baby fat just turned into chubbiness, and the horrible acne had set in. Now, I cannot say that this phase is not typical of almost all pre-teen girls. So as most of us do, I pressed through. By the time I was in the tenth grade I was pretty much done with my awkward phase. I had good friends, a great family, and you would think that I was the happiest person on the planet due to my general bubbly disposition. It was rare that I ever talked to anyone about my self confidence issues. I will preface what I say next by saying that I have never been a small girl. Even today, where I am at the smallest I’ve been in a while, I would still be considered a pretty thick girl, and to be completely honest I have never felt comfortable with myself until the last couple of months.
For so long I have been under false pretenses of what beauty truly was. When you turn on the television what type of women do you see in commercials? You see thin, toned, flawless women. These women are on billboards and in magazines; they are everywhere. What does it take to look like they do? I would think to myself, “You're not that pretty Ohara, you are not small or petit, you are not graceful, your skin is not flawless, your feet are too big. Boys will never like you because you are not the type of girl to turn heads. You don’t look like a model, and you never will.” There is a mold of beauty that is projected into society, and it can be hard to shake.
It took me almost 22 years to realize that what you see on television and in magazines is not the average woman. These women have been sculpted, air brushed and tons of make up has been applied. I read somewhere that the average size in the United States is not a four, but a twelve. Once I stopped seeking to look like the women I saw in the media, I was able to be comfortable with myself and accept my own beauty. Now I don’t care that I’m not small, have big feet, and get pimples from time to time. Each woman is different, each woman has flaws, and each woman will have insecurities. We are human, there is no way around that. However, with all of that said, we are all to be appreciated and respected. I hate that we have to go through so much before we come to this conclusion, but most of us power through, and eventually we do realize that we are all special and beautiful.
Melissa M.
"I use Greek life to fit in, because the real me would never fit in."
I guess you could say I’ve always been an awkward girl. I wouldn’t say I’m unattractive or was raised in some primitive environment. To say the very least, I’m eccentric and definitely two handfuls. In High School I was able to find a niche of friends who at least were similar to me, also known as the drama freaks. While I never looked like I belonged in a magazine, I never felt the need to. In fact, the only real problem I had with myself was that I was a AA freshman year of high school and had only progressed to a B by senior year. When I got to college, however, things changed. I was excited at the prospect of rushing a social sorority. No one in my family was Greek, and yet these girls represented exactly what I wanted to be. They were the pretty, popular girls. The ones who would have beautiful bridesmaids, rich husbands, and happy successful homemaker lives. I wanted that. Melissa Marie Manson doesn’t fit the image of the stereotypical bleach blonde hair, tiny-waisted hourglass figured, socially acceptable sorority girl. So I began to change myself. I tried to be more perky. I ate less. I exercised more. And I prayed and prayed that my boobs would grow. I became a picture of what a sorority girl should be. It wasn’t necessarily what I wanted to be, but I was finally accepted. Going to a school with 34,000 other students makes that a difficult feat. I’m not sure if I’m happy with this new Melissa. I chose Greek life to fit because real me would never fit in anywhere.
I guess you could say I’ve always been an awkward girl. I wouldn’t say I’m unattractive or was raised in some primitive environment. To say the very least, I’m eccentric and definitely two handfuls. In High School I was able to find a niche of friends who at least were similar to me, also known as the drama freaks. While I never looked like I belonged in a magazine, I never felt the need to. In fact, the only real problem I had with myself was that I was a AA freshman year of high school and had only progressed to a B by senior year. When I got to college, however, things changed. I was excited at the prospect of rushing a social sorority. No one in my family was Greek, and yet these girls represented exactly what I wanted to be. They were the pretty, popular girls. The ones who would have beautiful bridesmaids, rich husbands, and happy successful homemaker lives. I wanted that. Melissa Marie Manson doesn’t fit the image of the stereotypical bleach blonde hair, tiny-waisted hourglass figured, socially acceptable sorority girl. So I began to change myself. I tried to be more perky. I ate less. I exercised more. And I prayed and prayed that my boobs would grow. I became a picture of what a sorority girl should be. It wasn’t necessarily what I wanted to be, but I was finally accepted. Going to a school with 34,000 other students makes that a difficult feat. I’m not sure if I’m happy with this new Melissa. I chose Greek life to fit because real me would never fit in anywhere.
