So for those of you who haven’t heard, a disgruntled Australian mother found her 7-year-old daughter’s “diyet”list. Yes, seven years old, and, yes spelled “diyet.” Here’s my first question: How does a 7-year-old even know what a diet is? I’m impressed with how she got the spelling so close, just one extra y in there! And my second question: Why oh why does a 7-year-old care about a diet? I already knew that society made it extremely difficult for women’s self-esteem, being that I am a woman, but after hearing about this 7-year-old’s diet plan, I realize we really have a long way to go.
Now let me show you what was on this “Diyet list”: “Seventeen poosh-ups two times a day, three Appals, One Per, Two Keewee Froots and Rid my bike three times a day.” The girl can’t spell yet, but she’s worried about the scale?
Here’s the mother’s reaction: “F*ck you society. F*ck you and your stupid obsession with women and the way they look. How dare you sneak into my home with your ridiculous standards and embed them in my little girl’s head, polluting her innocence with your pathetic ideals.” And that is the reaction we should have expected. If you’d like to read the original blog as well as see a picture of the “diyet” list written in adorable handwriting on pink butterfly paper, visit www.mamamia.com.au and search for “Help: My daughter is seven. And I found this in her room.” by Amy Cheney.
I mean I get it. It’s almost spring break. But, dude, she’s seven. If you’re not pissed off by this, I’m worried for you. Yes, it is important for kids to know healthy habits and be aware, but if you’re seven years old, outside running around the driveway and doing sit ups like an olympic trainer on ‘roids instead of racing your best friend on a scooter for fun or holding the make believe Grammy’s on your trampoline with The Spice Girls booming in the background, I am concerned. Kids are bundles of energy and get plenty of exercise by simply being kids, void of the word diet.
Well, wake up society, we have a problem. I’m sure many college women can vouch for me. It’s tough out there. You are under constant pressure to be a size two, wait, I mean zero, and to go to the gym when really all you want to do is watch reality TV and eat an entire bag of Cheetos. And if you’re a freshman, you’ve definitely heard of the “freshman 15” and you’re probably more scared of that than failing your first bio exam. Especially since nowadays, despite many arguments against the fact, leggings are apparently pants, exposing every inch of your behind for all to see.
I remember the first time I thought I was fat. I wasn’t seven, mind you, but probably 12 or so. My innocence was gone and when I think back to it, it actually makes me sad that at 12 years old I felt that pressure to be skinny. The fact that I wasn’t as skinny as Britney Spears was so upsetting at the time, I started to cry and told my mom I was fat. My body image has been a struggle since then. I’m definitely not fat, but I feel the constant struggle every day to be skinnier than a majority of others, otherwise I just feel like a big fat failure.
We girls have to cut ourselves some slack. Now, I’m not saying go stir crazy and eat 20 plates of spaghetti, because, well, that’s just kind of gross. But it’s not realistic to look like a Victoria’s Secret model; they were blessed with a “genetic lottery,” as model Cameron Russell so nicely put it. And props to her because that was extremely humbling. “The real way that I became a model is that I won a genetic lottery and I am the recipient of a legacy. What do I mean by legacy? Well, for the past few centuries we have defined beauty not just as health and youth and symmetry that we’re biologically programmed to admire, but also as tall, slender figures, and femininity and white skin.” Amen, sister.
When I have children someday, I don’t want them to feel like they need to be stick skinny, or if he happens to be a boy, I don’t want him to feel like he has to be some miniature version of the Hulk. I don’t want them planning out their diets for the day—leave that to me, please. I want them being normal kids because when I look back, the days before I knew what “fat” was were the happiest days. When there wasn’t a care in the world and I couldn’t care less what jean size I wore. It’s sad what media is doing to our body image. Why are we letting the media have that power over us? If we could just be healthy and happy, it would be so much better than self loathing, would it not? If you’re having a day where you don’t feel adequate, just sing some James Blunt with me now, “You’re beautiful, it’s true.” Let’s all cut each other some slack and yes, it’s cheesy as ever, but embrace the people around you (unless they totally suck) for who they are and not for their size.
As long as you’re not overeating every day, or eating Toppers every time you go out, you’re probably doing OK. There’s a fine line between “healthy” and “obsessively healthy” so it is important to tell your friend how good that shirt looks on them once in a while. It’s also time we start standing up for ourselves in society. For instance, many men have been calling Kate Upton “fat” on Twitter. OK, first of all you’re a complete moron if you think Kate Upton is fat. Second of all, think about how she feels reading those and what that does to someone’s self-esteem. It’s time for us to start controlling the media’s portrayal of body image rather than vice versa. If we don’t, you could be this mom, seeing your child’s innocence be taken way too soon or your future son could be asking for a protein supplement in his apple juice at an even earlier age. Please, no.
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