Only 4% of women around the world consider themselves beautiful.
Only 11% of girls globally are comfortable using the word beautiful to describe themselves.
72% of girls feel tremendous pressure to be beautiful
80% of women agree that every woman has something about her that is beautiful but do not see their own beauty.
When I was younger, I was a chubby kid. This is the oldest photograph I could find, but here it is.
I'm the one in the black half jacket. In this photo, I was 13 years old, I believe. At this point in time, I didn't have a huge problem with my weight. My biggest issue was that I hadn't had any boys interested in me since the 4th grade. At 13, this should not have been my biggest worry, but it was. This was the age where all the other girls were getting boyfriends they actually kissed and I was stuck in the backround being fat little Brittany.
I decided that this is what I needed to look like. I needed this perfect shape and that lovely gap between my thighs. After I lost my virginity to a guy I didn't want to, I started to actively try to get my weight down. I've never liked healthy foods, so I didn't eat healthier. I didn't eat at all, actually. Maybe a couple of cookies a day, but that was it. This was the summer before my eighth grade year. I walked all the way across town and never sat down. I began losing weight and I liked what I saw.
This is the outlook I had. I couldn't be too skinny. The less I weighed, the better it was. My mother began to worry about me. When I got my first real boyfriend is September of 2006, I was proud of myself. I had lost a lot of weight. I was sticking to it. One day when he was over, we were all eating lunch. By this point, I had started eating a little more than I was during the summertime, but I still didn't eat as much as I used to. I walked into the kitchen and overheard my mother talking to him. "You need to watch her and make sure she eats, or she won't." I can still remember exactly the way she sounded. She knew.
I eventually fell away from practically starving myself as I become comfortable with who I was and what I had, but these images are still hard to stomach. When I see girls like this, I want to be them. I don't care if I am a great weight, I want hip bones like this. I want defined collarbones. I want to be skinny again.
The sad truth of the matter is, I will never be this thin. When Charles went to jail, I went back to practically starving myself, except it wasn't my choice. It didn't last for too long because I had some good people come into my life that fed me well. I did lose a lot of weight though. I lost nearly 20 pounds and got down to an average B.M.I. I became the thinnest I've ever been. It didn't look great on me, either.
I had the defined collarbones, but my cheeks began to sink in.
I began to look sickly instead of beautiful.
Here is a photo of that time:
My body is not built to be that kind of thin.
Even if I were to get down to such a small weight,
I would only look as though I had been doing hardcore drugs for the last few years.
There is no hope and it kills me a little inside.
Don't forget to take a look at Barbie Threatens Our Children's Self-Esteem
I decided that this is what I needed to look like. I needed this perfect shape and that lovely gap between my thighs. After I lost my virginity to a guy I didn't want to, I started to actively try to get my weight down. I've never liked healthy foods, so I didn't eat healthier. I didn't eat at all, actually. Maybe a couple of cookies a day, but that was it. This was the summer before my eighth grade year. I walked all the way across town and never sat down. I began losing weight and I liked what I saw.
This is the outlook I had. I couldn't be too skinny. The less I weighed, the better it was. My mother began to worry about me. When I got my first real boyfriend is September of 2006, I was proud of myself. I had lost a lot of weight. I was sticking to it. One day when he was over, we were all eating lunch. By this point, I had started eating a little more than I was during the summertime, but I still didn't eat as much as I used to. I walked into the kitchen and overheard my mother talking to him. "You need to watch her and make sure she eats, or she won't." I can still remember exactly the way she sounded. She knew.
I eventually fell away from practically starving myself as I become comfortable with who I was and what I had, but these images are still hard to stomach. When I see girls like this, I want to be them. I don't care if I am a great weight, I want hip bones like this. I want defined collarbones. I want to be skinny again.
The sad truth of the matter is, I will never be this thin. When Charles went to jail, I went back to practically starving myself, except it wasn't my choice. It didn't last for too long because I had some good people come into my life that fed me well. I did lose a lot of weight though. I lost nearly 20 pounds and got down to an average B.M.I. I became the thinnest I've ever been. It didn't look great on me, either.
I had the defined collarbones, but my cheeks began to sink in.
I began to look sickly instead of beautiful.
Here is a photo of that time:
My body is not built to be that kind of thin.
Even if I were to get down to such a small weight,
I would only look as though I had been doing hardcore drugs for the last few years.
There is no hope and it kills me a little inside.
Don't forget to take a look at Barbie Threatens Our Children's Self-Esteem
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