R.I.P Perfect Girl, R.I.P
I ran across a study the other day in my Cosmo magazine that said a recent survey concluded that 16% of women would trade in a year of their life on this earth if it meant they could have the perfect body. I thought about that for awhile, and really analyzed the crap out of that query – a year of my life – 365 days on this earth to be able to feel like a Victoria Secret model. Sounds reasonable enough, but at what cost? I mean that is assuming you live to be a ripe old age, but what if I were to die tomorrow? Would it be worth it? Worth a year away from the “smell of the ocean”, the sound of my “best friend’s laughter when I tell her a funny joke”, the “taste of salt water taffy on the first day of summer”, or the feeling I get when “somebody tells me they love me.” Is there any way to wrap a price around that – the price for, let’s face it, “Vanity”?
Then I thought about all the years I had actually taken away from myself in pursuit of having the perfect body, and it all became quite realistic to me. I sacrificed 17 years…that is 6,205 days of my life that I invested in pursuit of “Perfection”. I starved myself, threw up 3 times a day, took 65 laxatives at a time, scarfed down diet pills, lied, stole, manipulated, tore my family apart, lost practically all my friends, destroyed my career, and almost died too many times to keep count of – all for the sake of “Physical Beauty.” My hair fell out, my bones became like tissue paper, my skin was grey, my heartbeat was slow, all my organs shrunk, I fainted constantly, spent years at a time in a hospital bed, and looked like nothing less than the “Crypt Keeper with a Crystal Meth problem.” Hmmm, not so perfect huh?
Even if all that I sacrificed in life had indeed gotten me the perfect body, would that have given me the perfect life? I can almost guarantee it would not, in fact I can bet I would be very, very miserable. Just like “Money” and “Fame”, “Physical Beauty” is not what it’s all jacked up to be. You could be the richest person, the most famous, or the most beautiful and that’s really not going to give you the substance which makes human life worth living. What it all boils down to is – happiness comes from a much deeper places. I truly think that if one were to achieve “Perfection” in the physical sense, it would get quite old and quite boring. Not to mention quite lonely, as nobody would probably want to hang out with you. Most people would probably hate your guts and they move on to hanging around all the fun, interesting, and well rounded “Imperfect people.” They would spend an extra year of their lives doing better things because they probably came to accept themselves as is and learned to deal with it.
Not to mention – what is the “Perfect Body” anyway? By whose standards are we going? Some cultures think that perfection lies in the number of wrinkles an old lady has on her skin, or the length of her neck. Some cultures think the way a women dances is beautiful, or the way she rides a camel bareback is what it’s all about. It is different for everybody, so what you might think is the “Perfect Body” may indeed be the polar opposite for somebody else. This is why putting all energy into achieving “physical super-nova” is wasted energy. In the end you should love your life, and the body that gets you through it. I live my life as if it might very well be my last. I savor everyday and being that I wasted so many of them, have learned to appreciate the ones I have left.
Remember…your body is merely the “temple in which your soul resides”. Treat it with respect, take care of it, and let it take you through each and every beautiful day you have in this world.