Letter to the Media

Mr. Media,

Let me start off by saying that your ideas and methods make me sick. You have turned the planet into Barbie and Ken 101 and I'm sick of feeling like the word "Skinny" is a compliment. You are the reason for my hatred of my body type and the curves that other girls have told me they envied.

I have lived for seventeen years loathing and envying other girls whose size embodied society's idea of "beauty", afraid to look through magazines, terrified to see an article stating that now, bones aren't just beautiful, but they're the latest fashion statement. The messages you send to people today are the reasons so many people are starving themselves into delirium and completely fucking up their organs. You have convinced so many people that the only way to achieve beauty is through starvation, purging, and copious amounts of exercise, diet pills and laxatives.

Hell, you almost convinced me.

I would be lying if I were to say that I had never entertained the thought of bulimia and anorexia. Only for the simple fact that at 4'10" and 137 pounds, I look fat, even though I am at the average weight for my age. I have skipped meals. I have counted calories. And I have exercised until my body was so tired that I collapsed. But I did not do it more than a few times. Only because I realized that this behavior was what you wanted from me, and it was only my body and mind acting on the propaganda that you have spewed out at teenagers for the last several decades.

I have watched what your message does to people. I have seen people waste away, just trying to meet your needs. I'm savvy to your tactics and have seen the psychological torture you abuse my generation with, and I will say this now, before my voice is so hoarse from trying to be heard that I won't be able to manage it:

Fuck you. I refuse to be your latest victim.

Your influence is bad enough that it affects all of us. Not always to such a severe point as some, but enough for me to hear girls talking about diet tips and work out plans every time I walk down the hallway at school. One if my good friends is a size three, and every day she complains about being "fat".

Meanwhile, I am proud to be in that gap between a nine and a seven. Sure, I could be smaller. But I'll get there on my terms. Not yours.

Mr. Media, what I am trying to say is that while you have corrupted the minds of so many people with your brash tactics of making today's standards nearly impossible to reach, there are still some people out here who see you for what you are. These are the same people who plan to bring you down in our own way.

We will always be here, just waiting for you to slip up.

And believe me, we will be ready.

Yours, in anger,
Me.