...Because nobody is perfect...
Here we go with the "perfect" excuse, the statement that unites us and makes us only humans. Well, what is perfect anyway? Can we say nobody is? I think we need to stop saying that and accepting differences and individuality as a good thing no as the excuse for not being perfect. You know where this is going, body image.
At my almost 40, I once again question body image standards. I question and also contemplate cosmetic surgery because yes we are constantly bombarded with ever changing beauty standards that are either impossible to achieve or maintain or are simply lies. But as my LTBF (longtime boyfriend) will say; you can get everything with exercise. Yes, he really believes everything he sees and he really "looks around" a lot. Believing that all this so called perfect bodies were only chiseled by a good round of planks and thread mills. Yeah sure! There are surgery and procedures for every part of your body and most people won’t tell you what they got done. Never. You can achieve a lot with exercise, yes, and they are gym bodies that are real, especially those that spend hours and are committed to it. Also, you have to like it, actually, love it. I hate it. I find it boring, anti-natural and completely repetitive. As humans, we were meant to get exercise by interaction with nature not as a repetitive task that reminds me of a poor confined guinea pig inside those endless pink wheels. I know you are going to say, run outside.... yes, I am trying that but who am I supposed to be running away from? Ah, got it, I might try running away from time. Brilliant.
So, if you are still reading. Now I am going to complain a bit about surgery and procedures that are flat out lies and false promises. Especially the ones with the bionic equipment and technology that we don't know exactly what it does but after who knows how many sessions and yes, exercising and eating well, it works. Really? Exactly what the hell worked there?! Basically, they are selling us this magic trick that happens under our skin and we just lay there and look stupid as they plug stuff on us that freezes or messages our fat cells. While our fat cells are probably just having a little party in our love handles as they tickle them to "death"...the next day you feed them pizza. Great Job!
Now surgery is a more definitive route, you know, you have proof of the litters of fat cells that went out. You see the scars feel the pain and for sure see results. Not all results are equal or as glamorous, our bodies are all different. Reactions are different but in general, we can get to wear the skinny jeans again and see two sizes dropped almost instantly. Six months later feed me pizza and tickle my new belly.
So what the hell should we do? Nothing. Do absolutely nothing. Stand in front of the mirror, take a selfie, smooth, blur, pinch and cinch, use the latest filter, post and wait for the perfect body to arrive on the other side of the screen. You are done, you got it! That is perfect. Now, where is my pizza?
If you are one of those that are into fitness and know that you can achieve that perfect body by working your ass off. Here is my favorite fitness bra to keep your tatas in place.