I've never re-posted a blog before, but sadly this week is getting away from me.
This week...
- Adam has the last three shows of "The Sound of Music" (I get my husband back! Yes!)
- I'm writing 16 short skits for an assignment (I'm really excited about this!)
- I'm writing three lessons for an upcoming book. (Again...super excited!)
- I need to complete six projects for my papercrafting book. (Deadline fast approaching!)
- Today we have 2 hours of dance, 2 hours of baseball and I need to run this 40 page application out to the Christian school we're thinking about sending our kids to. (We're praying... this is a hard call.)
So, I'm going to repost a blog someone reminded me of today on Facebook. If you didn't read it before, I would love your thoughts. If you did, I'd love to hear if anything's changed...
And forgive me for tapping into the past...some days are just busy!
I’m standing in line at Barnes and Noble after a full day of writing when a magazine on the rack to my left catches my eye. Sports Illustrated. Swimsuit addition.
I’m looking at this photo of this tall, ridiculously thin blonde girl (I didn’t really get a good look at her face, though I’m guessing no one else is either), stretched from top to bottom of the cover wearing a yellow string bikini on the bottom and nothing on the top.
Her arms are strategically placed so you can’t see what’s behind them. (I confess I have a pretty good idea what she’s hiding.) I’m overcome with this weird disgust and hatred for this woman I don’t even know, when suddenly I realize I’m staring at a photo of a half naked woman. In the bookstore.
I turn around to realize there’s a young guy a few yards behind me—looking at me looking at the half-naked Barbie doll. And I cringe.
Oh my gosh! That guy is watching me STARE at the cover of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition !What is wrong with me? Why am I staring at the cover of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition?
I quickly pay for my much less controversial magazines (Country Living, Cottage Style), pick up my latte and go on my merry way. The image of an itsy bitsy, teeny weeny yellow, barely-there, bikini is burned on my mind.
And I think about my son.
Ethan is at an age where he does what he sees us do. He gets up early and reads the Bible with Adam. (I confess I am still sleeping at this ungodly hour. I’m okay with the fact that I’m not as holy) but he’s making his way through Psalms and I have to believe that God won’t let those hours go to waste.
He turns his head from the television if something questionable comes on. Heck, he won’t even let Sophia change if he’s in the room. Or the hallway outside the room. He hides his eyes. “I can’t look at that, Mom, it’s not good for me.”
And he’s right. It’s not good for him. At all.
Now, I know I am a prude. I am an overprotective prudish Mommy who would lock my kids in a bubble wearing chastity belts and turtleneck sweaters if I could, but I am also a woman with a healthy heaping of common sense.
Pause. Did I just call myself a woman??? Oh my gosh. When did THAT happen?
But I wonder how long…how long will it last? How long will the looking away be what he WANTS to do and not what he’s SUPPOSED to do? For how many years will he find these things as repulsive as I do?
Don’t get me wrong. I think the human body is beautiful. God outdid himself on that one. It really never ceases to amaze me, this blood-pumping machine with its intricacies and delicacies. Sparks wonder and awe. But in its natural form—the way God intended—not in this perverse, twisted, self-gratifying way.
See, I am angry.
As a mom, I am angry.
I am angry that a store (American Eagle) that caters specifically to young kids (I’m sorry, but teenagers are YOUNG in my book), has an entire WALL that is one big, oversized photo of a girl in her bra and underwear. And that wall is behind a glass window and facing the outside of the store, the inside of the mall. So you don't even have to go IN the store in order to see it. You just have to walk by. And that makes me angry.
I am angry that I can’t walk through the mall without seeing it.
I am angry that my six-year-old has more common sense than the advertisers and knows that he should look away.
I am angry that someday…he won’t want to. And by that time, will all these images have created in him the idea that this is normal and commonplace?
I am angry that as a body-conscious woman raising a daughter, I have to explain airbrushing and Photoshop and the fact that even these models don’t really look like their photos…
Yes. I've shown it to her. And I've watched it... but still I wonder...will this knowledge will get into her head but bypass her heart like it did mine?
I am angry that I still feel inferior to the cellulite-free photos of girls who are BETTER than this but still see fit to bare it all for the pages of some magazine.
I am an angry mom. It’s like they’ve already handicapped me in my parenting attempts. They’ve already given me a huge disadvantage. “You can raise pure, godly children, but we’re going to stick them in an environment that makes it virtually impossible to do so.
And yes, friends, that ticks me off.
My heart breaks for my kids, but even more so for the kids we see on Sunday mornings. Some of them don’t have anyone telling them to look away or telling them they don’t need to strive to be a size -0. Some of them will never know they are beautiful and created in God’s image and that they have a purpose. Some of them go to bed at night with tears on their pillow, wondering why no one loves them…and they will find someone to make them feel loved as soon as they can.
And that will do so much more harm than good.
I’m angry.
Because my kids are far too precious to sacrifice just because this is the world we live in. And so are yours. They deserve better. We should be giving them better.
What do you think? Am I overreacting? (Don’t answer that.) But I really am curious what you think? Besides the fact that I shouldn’t be staring at swimsuit models in public places or anywhere else?
I hope you’ll give me your thoughts. I think I could use some perspective right now…
