Perfectly Unreal
I saw a video the other day
A 30 second time lapse clip
That showed a woman
Middle-aged
Modeling for a camera
Her photo went to a computer
And I watched as the woman from this clip
Was torn apart and ripped
Like scissors to a picture being snipped
And her real beauty was skipped
As her humanity was stripped
To become a non-existing being of societal ideals and expectations that create
Self-conscious
Self-loathing
Self-concentrated girls
Concerned for nothing but the words
Pretty
Beautiful
Gorgeous *Pause*
Sexy.
I watched as the woman’s skin was airbrushed and polished
Her makeup impossibly enhanced and perfected
Her darkened blue eyes highlighted and inflated
Not even her hair was her own
The real was erased
Replaced
Disgraced
With perfect glowing curls that apparently not even a wig was good enough for
Her limbs were lengthened
Her body smoothened and wiped away to appear like a Barbie doll
Whom even scientists have proven cannot exist because she is an ill-proportioned toy
The before was real
The after was fake
The before was beautiful
The after was… alien.
No one could compare to the after
But little girls compare everyone
Everytime
Everyday
They poke and prod themselves in the mirror
Pointing out every flaw and swearing to themselves that they will do everything they can to destroy those imperfections
To destroy who they are
They cake their visage with cream and powder until they wear a mask
They soak their skin with chemicals to make acne
Pimples
Zits disappear
They starve themselves believing it will make them skinny
They starve themselves until they feel nothing
But bones
And no fat
No fat
No fat
And no
Mother
Stop asking me why I always question my appearance when you’re the one who said
You FINALLY look like a girl
The first time I got my eyebrows waxed. *Breath*
I swear to God that I’ll stop
Which is funny
Because I don’t believe in God anymore
Because I was always told He made me who I am
And I have always hated who I am
And I am a hypocrite
And I know that when people look at me they probably don’t see a damn thing wrong
They say I’m pretty
They say I’m skinny
They say they love my freckles
But how can I love them when I had grandparents who scrubbed my infant face because they thought my freckles were dirt
When I grew up in a half-Asian family that always remarked on appearance and accomplishment
And family friends always compared me to their skinnier granddaughters
And they dressed me up like a doll
Changing my clothes multiple times everyday
Everyday
Everyday
They supported and pushed me off the edge realism and into the toxic water of society’s perfectionism
You have to be this
You have to be this
You have to be this
And now I dress myself up like I’m my own doll
And I can’t stand going out in public without looking “cute”
And I can’t stand my own face makeup-less anymore
Because when I look in the mirror
I’m scared
I’m scared because I’m becoming a part of this tide
Because when I look in the mirror
It’s vice versa
The before is ugly
The after is beautiful
I’m scared because society is tossing me deeper and deeper
Creating a girl who is insecure
About being inadequate
Because she is incapable
Of being this perfection that society puts on every picture
And I wonder now at every model I see if that is the real them
If they are really that gorgeous
If they are really that skinny
If they give a fuck that someone altered their photo to make them that perfect *Pause*
And then I wonder if I can be that perfect
No matter how angry I get at society’s high expectations on looks
I’m ashamed to admit that I want nothing more than to be Barbie
Like most girls who had that doll
Whether they dress her up or rip her head off
Because no matter what they are still exposed to this impossibly perfect icon
A perfect person
Who is not pale
Who is not hairy
Who is not fat
Who is not real.