***CONTEST CLOSED. THANKS FOR ENTERING!***Self-esteem is something that I, like millions upon millions of American women, struggle to maintain. As a young girl I was blissfully unaware of the invisible societal standards that women are burdened with and pressured to live up to - however, this didn't last very long as my late elementary school years marked the beginning of my struggles with accepting myself for who I am.
As luck would have it, I underwent some pretty drastic changes between 9 and 11 years old - it began with the onset of my first period, then suddenly my previously pin-straight hair curled seemingly over night, my once-smooth face was now prone to acne break-outs, and I had to begin wearing training bras because my body was growing faster than I could keep up with. None of this escaped the notice of my classmates and other kids my age and older, most of whom were either years away from puberty, or were blessed to experience more subtle changes.The teasing was merciless and occurred at nearly all hours of the school day. I vividly remember hunching down in my desk chair, hiding my face behind my giant Health textbook so that the teacher wouldn't notice my tears as she covered a chapter specifically on puberty - the group of snickering boys and girls in the front row who kept glancing back at me also managed to escape her notice.
At home, when I tried to express my feelings of sadness and inadequacy to my family, my mother swept everything I said under the rug and instead lamented that she'd never be able to style my hair again because it was so "kinky" and "unmanageable". My sister was too busy experimenting with make-up and shaving her legs to care about my problems, and although my father was a beacon of light during a very dark time and told me constantly that I was special and beautiful, it was hard to believe him when no one else seemed to agree.
To add insult to injury, I was placed on hormonal birth control at 13 due to heavy, painful periods and, as a side effect that I was not warned of ahead of time, began to gain weight rapidly. No matter what I ate or how hard I tried to stay active, the pounds simply continued to pile on, making me an even bigger target now that I was in the larger, crueler world of high school. At 16 years old, after reading a classmate's blog post detailing how fat and unattractive I was, I forced myself to take part in a combination Atkins-South Beach Diet, losing 45 pounds by the time my senior year rolled around.
Even though classmates and family members were now taking notice of me in a more positive light, I found that I simply wasn't happy. In fact, I felt almost cheated - did being thinner mean that I was more worthy of appreciation and respect than I was when I actually needed the reassurance and encouragement?Even more bizarre was the fact that I was being complimented for my weight loss, but criticized for other things - if I only blow-dried my hair so that it was straighter, I was told, I'd be prettier. If I wore a little make-up, my friends informed me, I would look more alive and less "pasty". If I got my eyebrows waxed, my sister assured me, I might actually be able to acquire a boyfriend.
All the while I felt like screaming, "According to who?!" Who made up these arbitrary rules about beauty that so many people (Americans in particular) insist on imposing on girls and women everywhere?
Still, I gave my peers the benefit of the doubt - for a few months before graduation, I straightened my hair. I attempted make-up (which didn't go over too well as my face almost always broke out as a result of some sort of reaction). I got my eyebrows waxed every two weeks. I was almost feeling pretty good about myself... and then I entered college.
College, in my case, meant physically living with people whose standards of beauty were even more warped than the kids I'd grown up with. At 113 pounds, I was considered the heaviest girl in my dorm room (and often reminded of this for the duration of my 2-year stay). One fashion-conscious roommate constantly picked at my "plain" outfits (which usually consisted of a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers) and outright told me once that I should never wear my favorite top again because it was "ugly". Another roommate spent her entire morning at the gym, and the rest of her day calorie-counting because "there is NOTHING worse than being fat". Still a third spent hours in the evening perfecting her beauty routine - she bleached her eyebrows (and risked blinding herself) weekly because it was something she'd seen a model do in a magazine. Time and time again she'd mention how the first thing she wanted to do once she saved up enough money was "fix her face" with plastic surgery. She was 19.During this time, in addition to being told how I could reinvent myself to become more attractive, I was also criticized for the things I couldn't change. You'd have a nicer figure if your legs were longer. If your eyes were smaller you'd look more like a woman and less like a girl. Don't you wish you had perkier breasts?
What made me look at myself in a different light (besides meeting and marrying a wonderful man who didn't care that I wasn't shaped like a celebrity or a super-model) was becoming pregnant. Pregnancy means that your body will be forced to undergo changes whether you like them or not, most of which are considered "unattractive" by general standards - you will gain weight. You will have to deal with the possibility of skin conditions including stretch marks and acne breakouts. By the time your child is born, you may very well never be able to get your "old" body back.For me, the fact that I wasn't entirely in control of these changes was almost liberating. Instead of worrying that I was getting "fat" or lamenting over the fact that I was genetically predisposed for stretch marks, I simply accepted that these changes, while considered unattractive and unappealing based on the current standards of beauty, were merely a side-effect of the wonderful little person I was helping to shape. Letting go and accepting that there are far more important things in life than "looking good" or striving for physical perfection helped me gain back the control that I'd lost during my teenage years.
However, a part of me still wishes that I'd had the support to be comfortable in my own skin from the very beginning. I wish that my mother had encouraged me and been more accepting of my perceived faults. I wish that, in her absence, some other trusted adult had reinforced what my father was trying to tell me all along: that there is nothing wrong with simply being who you are, "imperfections" and all.
Because girls are under even more societal pressure starting at even younger ages, I'm happy to report that the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty, launched in 2005, has reached over 3.5 million girls globally with the intention of educating them about a wider definition of beauty. Through after-school programs and self-esteem workshops, Dove has been hard at work helping girls to build a healthier body image and preventing them from engaging in harmful and destructive behavior as a result of seeing themselves in a poor light.Every time you buy a Dove beauty care product, your purchase supports the Dove Self-Esteem Fund. In addition to this, Dove will continue to help girls everywhere learn how beautiful they really are by donating $1000 to a national charity that supports self-esteem this holiday season!
WIN IT!!!
As a way of saying, "Thank you for making a difference", two (2) lucky readers will receive a Dove Campaign for Real Beauty prize pack including a copy of the True You Workbook for moms and daughters, and promotional Dove care products!
MANDATORY ENTRY:
Share your own stories regarding self-esteem, and how you think the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty could have benefited you. This is required and must be left as a comment at the end of this post before additional entries are submitted!
EXTRA ENTRIES:
Feel free to do any of the following to increase your chances of winning. Be sure to leave a separate comment for each additional entry!
1. Become a Follower of this blog. If you are already following, please let me know! (1 Entry)
2. Follow me on Twitter. (1 Entry)
3. Tweet the following:
RT @MommasGiveaways: To thank you for making a difference, Dove is offering a promotional prize pack HERE: http://bit.ly/5kodfq!Leave the link to your Tweet so I can take a look (if you're unsure about direct-linking on Twitter, please see this page). (Can be done Once Daily for UNLIMITED ENTRIES)
4. Subscribe to the Ruminations feed using the form in the left-hand sidebar (please be sure to confirm your email subscription!). (2 Entries)
5. Grab my button and add it to your sidebar (if it's already there, let me know!). (1 Entry)
6. Fave me on Technorati (by clicking the link on my left sidebar) and leave your user name in a comment. (1 Entry)
7. Blog about this giveaway, with a link back to Ruminations of a Twenty-Something Momma, then leave the permalink so that I can visit. (3 Entries)
8. Enter any other on-going giveaway here at Ruminations, then let me know which one you've participated in. (1 Entry Per Giveaway)
Open to US and Canada. Contest ends at 11:59 PM (EST) on January 1st, with a winner drawn via Random Number Generator the next day. If your email address is not visible in your Blogger profile, please be sure to leave it in your comment so that I can contact you if you are the winner! You will then have 48 hours to confirm or a new winner will be drawn.
Good luck!
