The Desire for a Heavenly Body

Just look at those gorgeous extraordinary women of Victoria's Secret as they strut themselves down the glittery runaway.  It's unbelievably hard not to look!  The flowing long and luxurious hair, a body to die for so scantily clad in lingerie. Their abdominal muscle toned and tan flat tummies not to mention legs that don't stop.  Hey, I admire beauty and to me a woman's body IS beautiful and so much a part of art, all with exception of mine. Its the sad truth of how I truly feel about my own body image but it's just not something  I would put on display. I do fall under that high statistic of women who feel that way about themselves.

The Victoria's  Secret models can walk confidently with their head up high for the world to see because physically, there is much to see. They have what the American pop culture has labeled as the ideal look. Be it a fantasy of what men dream of and an almost impossible image to emulate, everyone wants it. Because everyone judges appearances at first impression, people will gravitate toward what is the best looking. You can say that growing up in this media saturated society has most likely programmed our way of thinking; that how we formulate our ideas has been conditioned in some way, but I also think we come into this world with some innate characteristics. 

As a child, no one told me what was my favorite color, I just knew it when I saw it, blue. If I met a person, and felt a strange but strong connection, I knew I was in love. I was a tomboy by nature and most of my friends were boys, I also like playing with cars, anything with wheels, and legos.  Like all children, I wasn't analyzing my next move, I acted on my instincts. I was also attracted to shiny and sparkly objects, lace, tall things, blue eyes and long golden hair.   That sort of sounds like a Victoria Secret's model, hmm?  I feel that although I was heavily influenced, eventually, by pop culture, I was born using my visual and auditory senses, making me drawn to certain pretty things like girls and music. Perhaps I'm fishing for reasons to justify why I have done certain things in my life to fit in whether it be with the pretty thin girls, wanting to be noticed, thoughts of ending it all, but by finding myself it seems most women have gone through this one way or another. By exposing or facing truths of oneself, there's bound to be someone else out there feeling the same pain.

 My grandmother was very close to me as a child. As you can see, its definitely an old school setting in her house with plastic coverings on the furniture. It really does come in handy with a curious kid around. In this picture I am 3 years old sneaking candy like a bad little girl. I wasn't a huge fan of regular food just certain sweets. My grandmother would wait on me hand and foot treating me just like her god given princess. I was her very first grandchild from her own daughter, so direct lineage made me extra special. There was no doubt she instilled a confidence in me that I somehow loose a little more often then not.

She herself was quite beautiful and a major flirt. Unfortunately, its a trait I never acquired.  Being sexy was important to her but it wasn't just external she exuded it from within. Men turned their heads when they saw her walking down the street and my grandfather was totally enamored with her. She had a way about her that made you feel special. With her intense gaze and her undivided attention she would capture your heart. My grandmother was a housewife and an unbeatable cook. My mom and her would make dishes to compete against one another and make everyone choose the best dish. My mom was good but not as good as my grandmother. I was smart enough to know who made what just by taste and not choose between them. Now food was very important in our family and if any of them were working away in the kitchen, your mouth was going to be stuffed with food whether or not you were hungry. As a young child, I would get in trouble because I wasn't into eating as much. I just wanted to play with my friends. So my grandmother would make me sit at the table and forced me to eat. Look at how slim I was as a kid but it didn't last. Eventually I started eating more and the food wasn't made with low fat recipes. Everything was made with real butter and fats.

 

My mom dressed me in pretty clothes on special occasions, she knew that even as a tomboy, I still liked sparkly and lacy dresses.  She was a very stylish herself and was a strong independent women. I looked up to her and thought of her as a star. She looked so much like Cher with her long brown hair and high cheekbones. She was and still is quite feisty and stubborn but she gets what she needs. She worked at a hospital while I attended catholic school for kindergarten. My mom had me on a busy schedule with ballet and tap dancing, so I learned early on to looked forward to weekends with my grandmother and playing with my buddies. 


In between school, classes, playing, watching cartoons, like Tom & Jerry and The Jetsons, another person I looked up to was my god sister Lisa-my mom baptized her following tradition once upon a time. Lisa was 6 years older than me and I was the pesky little sister that followed her around. I thought Lisa was the coolest person and I wanted to be just like her, walk and dress like her.  She was taller, lanky and was crazy about boys. In this picture, I'm standing behind her and her friends in about the only time in my life that you'll see me in a two piece bathing suit. I'm also sporting Sigorney Weaver's haircut from the movie Aliens- thank you very much mom! Lisa is wearing the pink bikini on the right. She would make condescending remarks and excluded me a lot which hurt my feelings but she was just older. I was too young to be into boys at the time but I saw that she used her body language to attract boys for attention.  I thought it was a vulgar display of manipulation and vowed not to be that way. As I look at it now, I think she used her body because her friends were the same way, so she was a follower. The one on the very left, Esther, got most of the attention because she was the most physically developed. Perhaps she was the leader of the group.

First and second grade introduced me to the bad crowd. At first, nobody really talked to me that much because I was shy. But then I realized that by being bad, I was more accepted. We came together by disrespecting the teacher. I was even caught bullying a poor little girl, smaller than me, as you can tell I was growing wider and wider. I feel horrible for pushing her diminutive body around. Needless to say, I was sent to a school psychologist to get evaluated. My mother had it removed from my school records. It was only at school that I even behaved like that just to fit in. You do stupid things for people that don't even pay attention to you until you make a fool of yourself. What I did learn is that karma always comes around and bites you in the ass.

I started a new school and reverted to shyness. There was a known crowd that were rowdy and one of the girls decided to bully me. I would come home and complain to my mom about how I was teased, called fat and pushed around and she told me I have to fight back. Believe me, I was scared but I stood up for myself, still unsure of what would happen. I remember we were gathered in assembly and a girl was kicking me with her hard ass wooden shoes and I manage to gain enough courage to kick back. She was shocked then threaten to get me at 3pm and with all my nerves and adrenaline I turned to her and said I'll be there. It must have sounded convincing enough because she backed down and made some excuse that she couldn't make it. It didn't change my shyness but my mom's advice gave a backbone.

I started watching television to escape and it was through there that I was exposed to other environments. Music television became my daily ritual. My grandmother's house had access to cable, so I made sure that I was there every weekend. One of my favorite bands was Blondie. I thought Debbie Harry was absolutely beautiful and mesmerizing. The song Heart of Glass and Call Me were my favorites. I loved her punk rock style, voice, and her hair. Now that's hair you can rock with. My weekends spent with my grandmother, which I loved wholeheartedly, were spent rocking out and watching movies until late night. We would stay up together and snack on garlic bread that she would make for us. If only I could turn back time, I'd go back in a second. My grandmother died the same night I was abruptly introduced to my bloody puberty. How symbolic was that? I was so lost without her, I felt like my heart was ripped out from me. She accepted me for who I was and to her I was like gold but really she was everything to me.

Debbie's Beauty '04

When my puberty struck, my weight dramatically drop and most of my baby fat seemed to melt away. I was sent away to camp and with all the running around I did, it help to form muscle tone.  I was thirteen and was budding into a young lady. My mother said that I had to wear a training bra because I just could not let these things just flap around in the wind. Every jiggle was attracting the wrong kind of attention. I already knew that this wasn't what I wanted, so I reluctantly gave into wearing the most uncomfortable underwear; and it still is.

The death of my grandmother also took a toll on my mom. By this time I had a younger sister, who was spoiled rotten and got away with murder. My mother was definitely affected by losing her own mom but kept her pain to herself. It seems that like most people, we always try to find the quickest solution to erase and move on from our problems. My little sister was too young to understand and my mom escaped in what she had access to. Unfortunately, it was cocaine. I've gotten to a point in my life where I understand that her solution was extremely poor in judgment, I have forgiven her and love her to death. I know we all make mistakes and how some of our vices can take over and cloud our clarity. But in my adolescence, I was filled with hatred and disgust toward her and the drug. Marijuana, I have no problem with though- just wanted to state that.

Teenage years should be spent discovering what your identity is. I realized I connected most with rock music, I was a huge movie buff, I had few close friends, had never been kissed nor ever had a boyfriend. I seemed to be overlooked by the boys. I felt that maybe it was because I was fat. My self esteem was so low at this point. I started to consider doing something extreme. I watched a segment on bulimia and it seemed to not to have many detrimental side effects. Soon enough more weight began to shed. I knew it was wrong but I felt that if my mother can choose to do something bad then I can too as long as I had it under control. I kept it secret all of my life. I only did it when I had large meals, and I'd always brushed my teeth afterward and drank lots of water to wash away any acid. I thought it would be okay as long as I didn't do it too often. But I continued on that way well into twenties and for that many years, you're silly not to think that it won't do damage. I get extremely painful heartburn, I have enlarged glands, and now if I get sick and have to regurgitate, the pressure is harsh on my body. Its a serious problem in America when young women think its the lesser evil passage to weight loss. 

Falling Up '03

I wanted to mention that as a women now in her thirties your inner feelings of self doesn't ever cease to fluctuate from high to low. I can't wake up everyday and feel as if I rule the world. My cynicism wouldn't allow it. With constant reminders from my mom, who asks when will I bear children, I tell her I am contributing more to society than by what my uterus can provide. No offense to the mothers out there- to each her own. I just know I have yet more to accomplish before I can provide my full attention to my child financially and mentally. And if I have the power to control that, I will. My grandmother came from a generation when women were venerated as ideal housewives, devoted to their children keeping house. My mother's generation the baby boomers,were burning their bras and joining the workforce and that she did. Now with my generation, X we're just a bunch of slackers supposedly. But I can only speak for myself, I'm not a slacker but I am a late bloomer. I move but move like a snail, so I will get there eventually but at my on pace, I'm the queen of procrastination. 

My relationships with men have come and gone, and I used to allow it to give me my own sense of worth. It took a lot of painful trial and error for me to get passed it because when I fall, I fall hard. I've only had several serious relationships each of them were for years. It effected my confidence level ridiculously and it took awhile for me to come out of my shell. But the special connections that developed with each of them were tied to music. All of my boyfriends were musicians and you would think the cliche never to date a musician would have penetrated my thick skull but music really takes a hold on me. I found that it was my own desire to be a musician that brought us together. 

I've always to love to sing and I was in chorus in school when I was younger. As long I wasn't the only person on stage and was part of a group, I was fine to perform. I remember my teacher singled me out because she wanted to do a solo. I nearly had a heart attack and could not stop sweating. I begged her to leave me alone and she did unfortunately. I was never confident enough to sing in front of anyone by myself- not until I hit my thirties. As ridiculous as that sounds, the older you get the more you learn about yourself, the more you accept about yourself.

I was in a friends house one night, he was a drummer in a hardcore band and had a recording studio in his house. He was jamming with other friends fooling around. They were improvising songs and with enough encouragement to join them, I sang. Soon enough, we formed a band for about 4 years. I was scared to perform in clubs but I did it. My confidence behind my voice got what it needed to shine. Mind you, I am still my own worse critic but I don't let it hinder my ability to let myself go anymore. You may listen to samples of it at:

www.myspace.com/venustarsaturn

I learned a great deal about myself being in that band and a lot about being a musician. Unfortunately because of selfish reasons on the drummers part- I was betrayed by a long time friend of 15years. It was not a clean break but a total back stab. No valid reason was given to me as to why I was kicked out of the band and I fell into a deep depression.  I never questioned my ability to sing but about my appearance. I wondered if my heaviness had something to do with it. Knowing how women are looked upon in the music world, in order to be noticed, you have to sell some sexuality. I never wanted to be looked at in that light because music to me was something from within not physical. Radiating sex on stage was not my bag but about sharing a passion that stemmed from something deeper. I regressed to my low self esteem as a teenager when I felt unaccepted and rejected. I am still working on getting over this. I'm like a walking paradox- confident about certain aspects about myself but crying about other things on the inside.

I am currently making music with my fiance in our band Dark Blue Matter.

www.myspace.com/darkbluematter

My fiance accepts me exactly how I am with all my faults, nooks and crannies as

I do for him. We fit well together and creating music helps to give us both an outlet of expression. I hope that this relationship lasts for the long haul and that I will eventually get over issues with myself. Well like life is, we are consistently learning and evolving. I hope that women like me find their hidden talents and true validation within; to know that comparing themselves to what the media dictates as the ideal look only hinders their own value.