Like so many other women I’ve struggled with the way my body looks. The way my stomach sticks out, the thickness of my inner thighs, my knobby knees. I pinch here, squish together there, pull here. Always poking and prodding at myself. Always dissatisfied. When I would watch t.v. or look at magazines I’d always see these perfectly beautiful women with flat stomachs, perky boobs, and white teeth. I longed to look like that. I knew that those images were photoshopped, altered in some way or another to make them look perfect and that in real life that wasn’t who they really were. But I still wanted to look like they look. I still wanted to have the perfect body. It’s difficult to be a women. It’s difficult to live in a society that shames you based on your physical appearance. That says if you’re not this tall, this light, this thin, this pretty then you’re not welcome here. Like I even had a say in the matter. There isn’t a request form you fill out while you’re in the womb asking not to inherit your great aunt’s wide hips. I guess what I’m saying is that with seeing these woman and their bodies, each one different that if I can still find them beautiful then I want to find that same beauty in myself.