Perceptions of beauty

My sweet little sister C and I have been talking a lot lately about how people perceive things drastically, especially across different cultures.

Needless to say, she's loving her anthropology classes. C is like a way better version of me I oftentimes feel. We share many of the same human rights passions (human trafficking, circumcision, etc). But she's probably more passionate. She is more active in actually making a difference in these areas. She's less cautious about stepping on toes. But she's also way more gentle and kind at the same time.

Anyway, our common interests makes her one of my favorite people to talk to, because even on the things we disagree on ( and we can be pretty brutal to each other!) I know she and I won't dwell on our differences or ever let them hinder our relationship. (Seriously, why can't everyone be like that - agree to disagree and realize that different beliefs does NOT mean someone thinks less of you???).

Anyway, we've been talking about the perception of beauty. Up until a mere 50 years ago or so a figure was the epitome of a beautiful body. Pretty much universally. But we've gotten very far away from that.

Whereas a woman with hips and that cute little round belly and supple breasts used to be gorgeous and attractive and a beautiful sign of fertility (which used to be a good thing) it is no more. At least not with the 21st century Anerican woman.

J says I'm perfect and beautiful and he loves my body. He said this when I was 20lbs heavier and yet to be pregnant. He said this when my belly was big and round full of baby. He said it when I felt puffy and saggy and was riddled with stretch marks and had a babe in arms. He's always said this, regardless of how I look physically (he claims this even first thing in the morning going on day 3 of no shower...).  I would say it is just because love is blind that he always tells me I'm beautiful, but J simply does not lie. So I know he truly believes it. He's not just saying this for my benefit.

Whereas on another hand certain members of my family have made it no secret that physically they do not view me as beautiful because, we'll, I have a figure and always will. (Which I'm okay with!). But then J's Hispanic mother is truly upset by how "skinny" I am. She tells J I must be sick. The babes are making me too thin. I'm not eating enough ( for those who know me, this isn't true. I'm a bottomless pit!).

To be honest, when she first started making a fuss about my weight I was a bit annoyed.

But I turned to C who was like, "yeah, isn't it crazy the perception of health and beauty between cultures!" And then I was like, "ha! Of course. Differences in cultures." Which is one reason I love C so damn much. Though she will definitely let me complain, and even complain with me, she's good at making me see things differently, sometimes how they legitimately are.

So now I kind if wish I lived somewhere where the cultural norm is to have a good layer of chub and some awesomely saggy boobs. Instead of one where we airbrush our cover models to make women and girls think that's normal and beautiful.

Ah, well. We don't get to choose our cultures. But we do get to choose our perception of beauty. And we get to choose how we teach our children perceptions of beauty.

And hopefully, my children learn first to see the beauty of ones brain and heart. Because, in my perception anyway, those are the most beautiful parts of any human being.