i witness pictures of aĀ ārelaxingā woman and i think: it is funny how they see us. in the movies under the shower, the actress stands with shaved legs, leaning into the water, opening her mouth with a sensuous sigh. our sleepovers are supposed to come with bras and tight panties, laughing our painted lips over pizza you donāt see us eat. we take walks in the park in good heels, look excellent after running, always have a gentle smile on our pristine faces.
an artist draws a piece about how women alone donāt have to be sad that theyāre alone, they should relish in it, which i thank him for giving me permission to do. the result of his work is half-nude ladies draped like linens over their couches, flashes of thigh gaps and open lips, breasts swelling pleasantly, a yawn and a stretch that shows off her hipbones.Ā
the only evidence i have that iām normal is considered comedy. our reality is comedy. lying in bed under three covers, bra off but sweater on, laptop positioned directly under lack of a chin: that gets a laugh. in the movies, the quirky girl in a cute-ugly but somehow flattering pajama set gets caught at the supermarket and itās a nice romantic scene where we find out how awkwardĀ it is for her to exist without makeup, without her best effort to please sexually. she sees her boss or her cute friend or whatever else makes us laugh and cringe and the next time we put onĀ āreal clothesā before we go out shopping.
the real world exists somewhere outside the picture of women. we come home and strip off our bras, but instead of that being a still image of a delicate female stepping away nude, itās a moment of our peacefulness. the narrative so often stops here, us heading our improbably slim legs to the bedroom. but instead our breasts donāt always hang evenly, instead some of us do not have breasts, instead we swipe a hand over our tired faces and smear our makeup but are too lazy to take it off. our bodies crack and crunch and do not stretch like a cat but instead in weird directions, we rush out our breath and slouch and barely keep our eyes open. we lie with our thighs touching and our stomachs hanging because itās comfortable. we sling ourselves undainty over whatever will support our weight. our showers consist equally of staring into the void as of unflattering angles while we wash; our bodies never come pre-shaved and for some reason our underarm hair is really persistent or our leg hair is dark and shows even after shaving or maybe both. our sleepovers mostly feature netflix and wine, getting food on our faces, eating until our stomachs make round pleased hills, talking trash and swearing up storms more than we paint our nails. we donāt go to the store in cute-ugly clothes, we go because we forgot to buy tampons or we dropped all our rice on the ground or because weāre humanĀ and we need supplies to survive.Ā
there is a very strange body-positive rule where somehow, we always end up under the sloganĀ ābeautiful.ā our loneliness, our adulthood, our moments where were are not even being judged - i should remind you that those are beautiful too. but the truth is that you donāt needĀ to be beautiful. and these moments in particular, that belong to you: theyāre yours, they donāt need to be told that they exist in some plane of desirability. who cares if theyāre ugly, if theyāre truly self-serving and unflattering and indelicate. when you are home, you are finally human, returned to skin that itches in awkward places and ugly habits and itās okay. they wonāt show you a version of that without laughing about it, but we are real, we donāt keep ourselves perfect in even our peaceful moments. itās okay. i know you might be worried what happens if you get a partner or roommate and they learn you live this way, that youāre messy and forget to brush your teeth sometimes and get food all over the place when you eat and iām telling you: youāre not unusual. youāre just human, and these moments arenāt somehow shameful. theyāre not untouchable and unspeakable because theyāre not pretty. because instead theyāre human.
we arenāt here to be watched, and we donāt need your approval. we werenāt created to always please. sometimes we get to take a break from beautiful.
titsay
romaincrisis
snowghoul
janainaart
