Yes I spelled Missrepresentation intentionally wrong. It is how I spell the propaganda we call the Hollywood standard. It is also how the Oprah Winfrey Network spelled the word on a documentary played a few weeks ago. It was a documentary on the ideals and standards set by the media on females starting at a very young age. I have never been messed with about my size and I do not recall much dissatisfaction on my part regarding this issue with my own body. What I do have is dissatisfaction toward what American society deems acceptable for the ideal human. I am overweight, but I do not care. I was not raised to truly care. Do not get me wrong! I care from the health end of this spectrum. It does not hurt my feelings though. I was considered just “husky” by the way I was raised. This is how boys are raised to be men.
My sisters would have been informed they were “fatties.” My sisters were not told this because they were not overweight, but my sisters believed they were. The magazines and movies they saw told them so. My oldest daughter was told she was fat and did not eat well for a week when she was only ten years old. She was told this by a male classmate. I had a hell of a time getting her to eat that week. I remember this like it was yesterday. It was disgusting. My fiancé had two Cesarean Sections and one natural birth. She worries because she has a pouch in her midsection. I say so freakin’ what. I fell in love with Michelle, the person, not Michelle the sex object. She is exquisite enough inside. Explain this thought process to a female though. It is not what Cosmo says is right to them. It is not what the girl from some new movie looks like. It is not being ideal.
However, it is not my size that ever worried me about me. It was not how I was raised. Size was the last thing on my mind in this dual standard world. I was raised like most men in society. I was raised not to express my feelings. I was raised not to be weak, yet I was. Weight was the least of my worries. I was not the star quarterback of the football team. I was not the amazing hitter with the killer batting average on the baseball team. I was the glasses wearing “nerd.” I was the kid who got beat up at school and went home to get knocked around by my father. I was weak. It was viewed to be not normal because I liked books. I liked poetry. I liked the ballet paintings of Edgar Degas. I cried when I felt sad. I remember hearing men in my life debating whether I would grow up to be gay. I was treated like crap because I was born intelligent and with poor vision. I still suffer from low self-esteem to this day. The scars from the abuse I received as a young boy from mostly males still corrupt my mentality today. It affected my thought and decision process so much over the decade after I graduated that I too grew up acting just like my dad. I have an entire decade of my life I wish I could take back. I had stopped crying outside my body and began to cry inside which is a lonely place to feel sadness. Death was only a step away. I spent a week in jail but luckily the county I live in now forced an intervention on my lie I called life. I thank them for this. These intelligent people felt I was worth saving, and they saved me.
I have begun to dedicate myself to stopping abuse and bullying. You should not be a perfect member of society to be special. I want to see a world where people are not terrorized by their looks. It should not matter if you are a man with feelings. You should feel. It should not matter if you are super thin, and supermodel beautiful if you are female. Beauty comes from within. It should not matter what society thinks about the perfect person. Who are they to judge whether we are beautiful or not? My poetry already sings against the views of the perfect race and the perfect person. I hope to express this in my art as well. I want people to see the pain caused by ideal views. What is the ideal person anyway? Is it the people who terrorized me because I was not blessed with perfect vision? Is it the dad who abuses his son because he is weak? Is it the society who bullies a child until the child does not know what being good is?
I do not care any longer what society thinks about me. Actually I am treated better as an adult. I also do not care because I do not have a problem with crying. I do not try to hide my intelligence. I did as a child and young adult. It took me nowhere but through the path of inner pain and turmoil.I do care what people think about my children. I think my daughters are beautiful inside and out no matter what bratty little bullies might think. I want my son to cry when he is hurt. I do not care that he has expressed an interest in writing. I think it is a beautiful thing. He will make a wonderful friend and be someone special to others someday. Oprah’s show enlightened me but I had already realized the ideal requirements of myself and others decades ago. I have hated the double views on men and women for quite some time.
It should not be a requirement for a female to look like a supermodel. What will make us change? Will more teenage suicide change the views of society? I knew of two suicides during my school years connected to bullying and childhood requirements being too severe. When I was in the Marines I knew of an adult that was terrorized to suicide. He was my first commanding officer, and he killed himself because he was investigated by his peers for being gay. So freakin’ what! How can we judge a heroic man for sexual preference because we think we are better? He was one awesome man, and I still cry for him today. How could other men terrorize another grown man leading him to end his own life?
This problem goes on beyond just fat. It is the hypocritical people thinking they can determine what is good and what is not in another person. What gives people the right? It should be considered murder when someone dies from suicide brought on by bullying. People who think they can determine the perfect person by their own opinions need to take a good look in the mirror. They need to see that they are hateful people hurting others. Change can never occur until we look inside. We need to look at the media, and we need to check our standards. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder when you look only outside. Beauty always glows heaviest from within. We can stop the dual standards, and we can stop missrepresenting. I intend to continue spelling this word and it’s variances wrong until I see change because there is nothing right in the dual standards of our society today. Becoming the ideal person to me should also mean doing the right thing. Should it not?
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