Body Image, Body Shaming, Western Culture Sucks, etc.

Once upon a time I wrote a blogpost about body image and poured my heart and soul into it. And I got a lot of positive feedback and a lot of people benefited from it. THEN I DELETED IT. 

Today I joined a gym. This wasn’t some life-changing, “I’m starting off on the right foot” kinda deal, because during school I worked out 6 days a week. However, for the first time in my life I was surrounded by people much older than me -- I was the minority! At high school, we received this massive grant when I was in, like, 7^th grade (I think) and they put in a gym in our school. It was crowded and sweaty and 9/10 the machines were always broken and some people would just go down there and sit, occasionally lifting a leg or flailing an arm like, “Look guys!  Physical activity.” And a college gym is just a bunch of college kids who grunt and use shifty eye movements to communicate with each other. But this time was different.

Planet Fitness is a really cool place. Not only are their machines reaaaal nice, but they’re also extremely body positive. I toured the gym when I signed up with a worker and he told me that they strive to have all members to adhere by their ‘No judgement’ rule. At first I laughed it off, like, “Okay. It’s a gym.” But then I felt like an idiot. I was surrounded by people who were at all different stages on their weight loss journey. And it is so brave to do that. I really respect Planet Fitness for how hard they’re working to make people feel welcomed -- like they belong.

Body Image has become so westernized that across the board, girls are trying to look like that. “I want a stomach like that.” “I want thighs like that.” “Why don’t my hips look like that.” I hate THAT. It’s been a long, tiring uphill battle for me and body image and the word THAT is ripped from my personal dictionary.

In April/May alone I’m guessing I’ve gained about 10 pounds. 14-year-old Abby would absolutely have lost  it. I would have ran 7 miles a day, ate only salads, never even glanced near junk food. Then I would tired myself out and run out of energy come day 4 and then binge. And then cry. And then repeat. However 18-year-old Abby is EMBRACING it. I’ve let myself go after finish school and I’ve recognized that. And now I’m taking action

I’m not going to lie, this journey wasn’t made by “faith in myself.” Sure, it helped, but I’m definitely not strong enough to ignore all of society. My mom obviously helped me, but it was mainly pop culture icons embracing their body that helped me the most. The two that come to mind for me personally is Demi Lovato and Jennifer Lawrence.

I’ve already talked about Demi in an older post and I stand by everything I said. Jennifer Lawrence doesn’t even need an introduction.  But just in case you live under a rock, Jennifer Lawrence is an American actress known for her goofy one-liners, laid-back attitude, but most importantly, on taking a stand against body shaming. She is an athletic build. And Hollywood has the audacity to call her fat. What scares me is that I have an athletic build. I have muscular legs and arms and instead of losing weight, I gain muscle. So to read that Jennifer Lawrence is fat, is enough to knock someone down a few rungs.

Who cares. Who cares what the media says. Who cares what society thinks. It’s hard to ignore all that pressure that just builds and builds and builds. I know. The billboards, the commercials. Every celebrity you’ve ever loved has been involved with some very thin, tanned, legs for days model. Then you feel like crap. You feel like you’ll never be as beautiful as someone like that. Then you feel bad for yourself. I know. But who cares about what other people are doing? Hint: Not you. Answer: No one.

Here’s my advice -- 1. stop looking at sizes. In my closet right now I have sizes 9, 7, 6, and 4 in pants. They all fit the same. But yet their range is extremely high. Clothes are being made smaller and smaller. I know it really hurts to have to go up a size, but why buy something that doesn’t fit, looks extremely unflattering on you, and will only shrink in the wash to make you feel better. It sucks, I know, but it’s not worth it.; 2. Be healthier. You can mope and whine and point to models in Seventeen all you want, but nothing is going to happen unless you cleanse your body. Eat fruits. Eat vegetables. Don’t drink pop.  Cut down on sugary foods and processed foods. Get 30 minutes of exercise a day in. There. That’s it. That’s all you need to do. You don’t need to go overboard. A healthy lifestyle comes with hard work and determination. Not starving yourself. (That's a WHOLE different post for me.) 3. ‘Skinny’ doesn’t mean healthy and ‘fat’ doesn’t mean unhealthy. Body shaming goes both ways. Be kind to others with your words.

I know how hard it is to accept your body. I know how much of a struggle it is to look in the mirror and not be happy with the person you see. It sucks. It really, really, really sucks. But nothing is going to get better unless you take the change to being happier and healthier. Your body is yours and no one else's. You need to take care of it. 

Be happy, be strong, be confident.

But most of all,

Be beautiful.

Xx
A

THE ULTIMATE PRIZE

Okay, so, did you ever hear of Radio Disney? Duh. Well, I used to be a GIANT Disney Channel freak. I mean this was a serious addiction. I fawned over all the Disney queens: Raven, Hilary, Tia and Tamara--they were the original divas. (I still fawn over said Divas. As well as the current Divas, i.e. Miley, Selena, Demi, etc. I CAN'T HELP IT.) Well, I listened to Radio Disney constantly and the life goal of 8-year-old Abby was to win the Ultimate Prize. Well, that's what I called it. I'm sure it was actually named something like, "RADIO DISNEY'S AWESOME ROCKIN' FUNTASTICALLY COOL SUMMER TOYFEST KALABOOMPALOOZA WITH ERNIE D."

But one prize, the Ultimate Prize, was a driving hunger in me. I lusted after it. Needed it. Ever ounce of me knew that the prize belonged with me. I would be able to do anything if I won that Ultimate Prize. I contemplated the things an 8-year-old could accomplish with the Ultimate Prize. Anything. Feed a million dogs, grow a Hippolephant (Hippo/elepephant. Can you imagine the size of that thing?) The world was mine for the taking with the Ultimate Prize. What was it you ask? The Ultimate prize was 10 minutes to throw as much as your grubby child hands can grab into a cart. And it was all yours.

THINK ABOUT IT. You have TEN MINUTES in Toys R Us to grab WHATEVER you want! Find a child who doesn't want that, and I will call them a loser. (Well... maybe not, I'm Abby Stubenbort not Abby Lee Miller) I would want that prize NOW. I literally had dreams about that prize. It's all I wanted.

I had a system for how it would operate. It would be conducted in a series of five stages, each stage pertaining to a different section of the store. I would have an army of helpers (breaking the rules because I'm Abby Stubenbort) to help me along the way and accomplish things I couldn't do, such as pushing carts, using grown-up legs to walk faster, using longer arms to reach things 8-year-old Abby (or 18-year-old Abby) couldn't reach.

Stage one was adjusted to how Toys R Us was when I was a child. When you first walked in, to the immediate right was the plush animal section. This was young Abby's favorite part of the store. I gazed longingly at all the cuddly toys, wanting to be squeezed and fluffed by me. One in particular I had my hazel orbs locked on was that giant pink unicorn with the sparkly collar. This thing was gigantic. I could probably lay across it now comfortably. Granted, that's not saying much. Every time we went to Toys R Us I had to go stroke its soft, silky fur and intertwine my fingers through its full mane. Then my mom would be all, "ABIGAIL," and I'd be all, "Oh my god, mom, you're cramping my swag," and storm away.*

The second stage was the outdoor toys section. When I was a kid, I think my parents thought I secretly belonged to a wolf pack because I was never inside. I woke up at 8 in the morning and went outside, came in only when I had to use the bathroom and when I thought I was going to topple over from lack of food. Within the small section of my street, there were about 10 kids, and my neighbor was a baby-sitter. Our kickball games were ACTUALLY THE BEST (except when they would get stuck in the trees and I'd try to climb a tree to get the ball but actually only made it up the massive trunk 4 inches from the ground.) Moving on, back to relevance, the outdoor section was located just past the superhero section adjacent to the plush animals. I would hit there and instruct my minions to gather only the biggest, and baddest of water guns, the most expensive of chalk, and please, no generic scooters--only Razor would get the job done.

Stage three is where things got a bit more tricky. If you traveled further north up the store, you began to run into Babies R Us, and the arts and crafts part of the store. Since I was not a baby, and to this day cannot cut in a straight line, I had to throw the operation into reverse, and start backwards again. I had to cut to the right, just before the super hero section, because that took me to an aisle that led me straight to Bratz Doll paradise. After reaching the destination, it was much easier: The packaging of the dolls were bulky and able to be grabbed in an abundance, therefore, one quick sweep of my arm down the row into the cart would successfully complete stage three.

Stage four was my favorite stage, aside from my stuffed animalgasm. Here be dragons. No, really. There were dragons right here because we have reached the video game section. This area was parallel to the dolls, so I planned it just right. I only needed the Playstation and GameBoy Advance section, so I did not have to venture far into the aisles. However, in order to achieve maximum game retrieving, I had to put my army to work, but of course they could not help me out fully, because they don't know what games I wanted. So I made of things that I wanted and I not want.

1. Anything with animals. That you don't kill

2. Spyro, Crash Bandicoot, and Mario were always okay.

3. No blood, because ew.

4. No boring games where you have to do a tutorial. WHO HAS THAT KIND OF TIME?

5. Nothing with cars, except racing games. But only Mario.

6. If the case was pink, it was an automatic buy.

7. If the case had camoflouge, even if it followed an aforementioned rule, it had to be replaced.

8. No doll games. I had physical dolls.

9. No games where they don't speak English. (Too young for Simlish. That stage comes at pre-teen)

10. and finally, no Tetris.

Once this list was observed and scrutinized (beforehand, of course) stage four would commence properly.

Stage five was the final countdown. I needed to swing the ship around, and bring it back up north, near the front of the store. Right in front of the cash registers was the candy section. Here, young children could hack and gnaw at a variety of sugar laden treats that would ensure their wearing of braces in their early teen years. Depending on how much time was left, this part could have failed, or been a huge success. This part was simple. I would start singscreaming Aaron Carter's (what a dreamboat he was in that Lizzie McGuire episode) hit song, "I WANT CANDY" and they would start swarming around me, tossing candy bags haphazardly into the car. All candy was acceptable except the gummy tarantulas. WHO would eat those? The rules of the prize was that you had to report back at the doors when 10 minutes were up, so with 5 seconds remaining, we'd bolt to the doors, roughly 50 meters in front of us, and I'd climb on top of my toy mountain, perching like the demon princess child I was.

I was trapped in such a delusional idea that this was the ticket to my happiness. I called the station an irrational amount of time, and helplessly, I wrote to Raven on her section of the Disney Channel site, seeing if she could help a sister out. I guess she didn't see it in my future, because A. homegirl never wrote me back, and B. I never won. I sulked for minutes every time a winner was announced. Stupid Ernie D.

And you know what, 18-year-old Abby would love the same prize.

So, this is my call to you, Toys R Us. Let this big, bad teenager come play with you for a bit.

You'll never be the same.

Stay beautiful.

xx

A

*this was ten years ago so please don't thing dialogue is verbatim. 

(this was an edited repost from a blogpost I wrote 2 years ago)

Demi is everything and everything is Demi

Remember that one time when I said, "I don’t want to say ‘idol’ because idolization can become extremely dangerous and 90% of the time people aren’t aiming to be ‘idolized." Yeah, that wasn't pertaining to Demi Lovato. I LOVE DEMI LOVATO. Like a lot

So way, way back many centuries ago (2008) I was absolutely in LOVE with the Jonas Brothers. Yada, yada, yada, team jonas, yada. So they announced their opening act was going to be Demi Lovato. This was BEFORE Camp Rock came out. So, I was all, "Anything the Jonas Brothers say is scripture so I need to eat, sleep, and breath this girl." I found out she was the girl from the short-lived mini-series As the Bell Rings. Remember precious baby Demi with a gap? :')

Long story short, I FELL IN LOVE WITH DEMI LOVATO. At their Burning Up Tour, I literally LOST MY CRAP when she came on stage. I was, like, one out of maybe 200 that knew who she was so I was JAMMIN'. I cried. I actually burst out in to tears. (But that tends to happen at any concert I go to. Then again, the only concerts I've gone to have been concerts of people that I'm 'in love with.' Then again, I'm in love with everyone.) ANYWAYS, Demi sang, I cried, it was a great night. 

I could have met her but NO, 14-year-old Abby had to go to school the next day and my parents had to go to work. Ugh, the struggle was real those early teen days. I also cried because I couldn't meet her. But then again, I was on post-concert high. And I needed water like Amanda Bynes needs to put a shirt on. (desperately.) 

Flash forward to today. She released her album on her website/YouTube. A listen before ya buy kinda marketing strategy. And as per usual, I LOVED IT. I personally thought it was a lot better than her Junior album. I liked her first two, but the last one lacked... something. This one however is super raw, super real, and super relevant. It combines her beautiful piano ballads with some Rhianna-esque synthesized beats PERFECTLY. Also, CHER LLOYD is on a track. I get two of my queens for the PRICE OF ONE.

But I don't want to talk about Demi's music itself. I want to talk about Demi.  You know, being a teenage girl, especially in Western culture,  it's so easy to just tear yourself to shreds without anyone even batting an eye. I've struggled heaps amount with body image and weight and hair and eyes and skin and complexion and markings on my body and cuticles and hands and every single little thing you can nitpick. But Demi Lovato flawlessly leads the young female generation with a high head and fabulous confidence.

When I heard about Demi's enter to rehab, I was literally shocked. I was pushing away all of those horrible rumors that were swirling around the dust of all those sketchy celebrity gossip sites, simply because I didn't want to find a flaw in her. Not that what she went through was a flaw. But, remember when I said idolization was dangerous? Yeah, it is. This is why. You have this perfect image of the idolizee and you don't want to soil it. So when she reached her lowest point, it was kinda like losing a piece of you. Which sounds crazy, absolutely mental but if you've ever had a true idol, you can relate. If not, I swear I'm sane. Well, most of the time.

Demi has gone through so much. It takes a seriously strong person to be able to pick herself up off the ground and start over. And the fact that she was about my age now when all of this happened to her is insane. "A little girl who grew up too fast," is a line from her song Warrior (a song I cried over. I swear I don't cry this much, but apparently in this blog, I cry over everything.) Fame happens in a blink of an eye. Suddenly, you're thrust into the limelight and there's no where to hide. That's why I feel for celebrities. People may call me crazy because they have everything 'handed to them' but they lose their life. Their privacy. Everything. They were never asked to be rolemodels. They're forced. They shouldn't have to be a role model for your 12-year-old. But Demi took on that responsibility  and I admire her so much for that.

She doesn't just have the talent. She has the personality. She has the strength  I admire her so deeply not only as an artist, but as a female living in this body-shaming society, as well as a human. 

I thank Demi for being such a positive influence on my life. For telling me that it's okay to be curvy. It's okay to have low points in life. Because we all are warriors.

I'm looking forward to May 14th when her new album "DEMI" drops, and I will most definitely shove it into the faces of everyone just so they KNOW, Demi Lovato is everything and everything is Demi Lovato.

Stay Beautiful

xx

A

(PS, the album is seriously freaking great and I think ALL OF Y'ALL should listen to it. Really Don't Care is my JAM.)

fame

One time I met Bo Burnham and now he’s, like, famous and on MTV. 

‘Zach Stone is Gonna Be Famous’ is the new scripted ‘reality’ series MTV has picked up starring none other than Boston-bred comedian, Bo Burnham. His character, Zach Stone, is a fresh-faced high school graduate, and on the conquest to become ‘famous.’ That’s it. That’s his goal -- to become famous. As he says, he can be a famous ‘writer, producer, actor, director, dancer, crab fisherman, slut.’ Sounds legit.

The show premiered on Thursday May 1^st and has received plenty of positive feedback. I’m not going to sit here and describe the entire first episode to you, you lazy lard. Click here to watch the first episode online. I say positive feedback because Joel McHale and Jenna Marbles and a bunch of other ‘famous’ people tweeted about it and I was flailing and giddy and then I was all, ‘Wait… This doesn’t pertain to me at all.’ But it’s Bo and I’m infatuated with him, so please let me be.

Even though the show is mainly comedy based, in it’s entirety, it’s a mockery of this generation’s crazed obsession with ‘reality.’ Think about the Kardashians. What are they famous for? Honestly, though. It’s a jaded argument but it’s true. But we thrive off of reality TV. But it’s not even realistic. Everyone acts different in front of a camera. But everyone wants to be on camera. But everyone wants to be themselves. It’s a vicious cycle.

Bo’s always touched on really deep subjects but brushed it over with comedy. His most famous would definitely be ‘art is dead.’ He himself even said 'This song isn't funny at all but it helps me sleep at night.' His song Nerds is a really powerful rap/poetry piece dashed with heavy synths and electronica pop beat. But the lyrics hit home.

I personally think Bo is a wonderful… person. I don’t want to say ‘idol’ because idolization can become extremely dangerous and 90% of the time people aren’t aiming to be ‘idolized.’ However, what Bo is doing with this show is subconsciously hitting the teenage population with a valuable lesson. I’d be straight up lying if I claimed I never said, ‘I want to be famous.’

Fame has turned into this pseudo-success.  I’ve heard before that Fame means you’ve become the best at something. But is that true? Are the Boston bombers the ‘best terrorists’? Is the Westboro Baptist Church the best religious organization? That’s not fame. I’m not even sure what fame is anymore. I don't think anyone even knows.

We all want to be remembered. We all want to be able to look back and say we lived a happy, wholesome life. And I think our generation has synonymously clumped fame with happiness. And I think that’s what Bo’s trying to preach. He may be preaching to the choir, but whether or not they’re looking, MTV audiences will definitely find  some lesson nestled in the silly plot-line.

So whether you want to be a famous musician, director, or even slut, stay grounded and don’t push away the cliched girl next door for the super hot girl that’s only using you for your fame.*

Stay beautiful.

xx

A

*(In which the situation fits)