Broken, that's what I am. Being told day after day that I need to look a certain way. It takes a toll. It takes a toll on my mind. My body. Even my bones. Ever molecule that I am feels the ridicule of this society. Magazines. TV. Ads on the street. All portraying my sex, us women like objects. As if we are supposed to be a perfect mold, of Photoshop. The mind of a man is a dangerous thing. What it wants takes over what it needs, and it begins to disgrace women based on the size of their hips, the gap between their thighs. Children, ages 10 and 13, starve themselves, preparing themselves for this image they must be. But it's a lie. Us women need to love who we are. Own our bodies, thick or thin. Tall or short. It's all we have. No man, not even a woman, can tell us that our bodies are wrong. Our bodies are ours. No one owns it but us. We, the owners, know what's wrong, and our bodies are right. Fat, thin, or in-between, the size or our jeans does not determine us. Our minds, strong and intelligent make who we are. Our body is just a shell to protect it.
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