On body policing. "Watching TV The problem: It’s Wednesday night, and you know what that means: time for your favorite reality show, Fat Teenaged Pregnant Little People Who Are Getting Married and Didn’t Know They Were Pregnant.* You’re settled on the couch, but you can’t stop thinking about the one-third-full can of Pringles in the kitchen. You’re a disgusting pig if you let yourself eat them after 8pm! And now that you think of it, you didn’t work nearly hard enough on the elliptical trainer earlier today. Your dimply saddlebag thighs will never be in shape for swimsuit season at this rate, and you’ll have to spend another summer refusing to take off your sarong at the beach. The solution: Eat the Pringles, if you really want them. Your thighs are fine. No, really, no matter what they look like: they’re fine. Trust me, you will never lie on your deathbed thinking, “I wish I’d berated myself more for not looking like a photoshopped-to-perfection model in a lingerie ad,” but you might think, “I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time worrying about what my thighs look like, when I could have been lying by the ocean and enjoying the sunshine ”"
Posted on: Mon, 01 Jul 2013 12:22:49 +0000
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