Adventures in lunch meat

So I was grocery shopping on Sunday. Very typical. Very average. Needed some lunch meat, or some absurdity. Anyway, so I’m standing in line at the checkout, when a People… or Stars, or some such celebrity gossip rag catches my eye:

MARY-KATE losing weight again! Stick thin legs! Skinnier than Nicole Ritchie! 89 Lbs! No more diet coach!

It shocked me. It wasn’t a very flattering photo, at all. What would posses a girl that small to think she is not yet small enough?
It all became very clear a few moments later. Maybe it was woman’s world, right next to it. Right on the cover:

These women lost half their weight! Dropped 105 Lbs! Lost 185! Looking fabulous! Find their secrets inside!

Are these the twisted ideals we are force feeding our children? (Honestly, to say this is a woman’s problem is doing no favours to the boys and men who suffer in their own silence, as well).

There’s roughly a ten pound area in which a person would look “ideal”. More–> too fat. Less–> disgustingly skinny. A panic, leading to a pandemic sweeps through a population scared of heart failure, scared of public ridicule and, worst of all, scared of being considered unattractive. The horror of horrors. And that ten pounds? Pretty hard to maintain. Especially for women. Body weight fluctuates with hormones, diet, life… Life! It’s hard to keep in that green zone.
Worst of all, we’ve effectively targeted the most vulnerable, the most suggestable diaspora of our obsessive nation. Young people. 12-21. Still learning: craving it, clawing it out of whatever sources they can find. Sometimes those sources are parents, family, friends; but more often, people, women’s world, television, maxim.
We tell ourselves we should be old enough to know the difference between real and fake. But what’s more real than what we’ve grown up on? Our daytime babysitters? Our captivating entertainment? We’re raised on it and then told to ignore its message. Even if you hate your parents, some things they’ve said stick. Some hurt, some help, but you remember. You internalize them. They grow with you, they filter your world, even if you don’t notice.
Tell me again to forget what I’ve been told I should look like. I’ve been watching that lie since as far back as I can remember, and I’ve grown accustomed to the view.
Dropped 10lbs? Only five more to go. Maybe five more after that. Someday, I’ll be perfect too.