Narrative Essay on Body Image
The Truth about Beauty: Unedited
Growing up as a young girl in the suburbs, my parents were always working so I looked to magazines and popular television dramas to show me how I should look and act. I was shown from an early age that in order to be normal, women needed to wear makeup, diet, and keep up with the latest fashion trends. With this in mind, and no one to tell me otherwise, I was constantly trying to fit in. Media was an authority figure in my life, because my parents were, for the most part, absent. During my high school years I struggled with depression and eating disorders, trying to fit the perfect mold I had seen on every television station since I was a child. I did acknowledge that not everyone thought they should look like a supermodel, but I still thought I needed to. I was pressured to conform to society’s standard of beauty. Ironically, my first experience modeling showed me that I didn’t need to look up to models and celebrities as idols; I needed to embrace the beauty within myself.
That morning I woke up in a bad mood, but little did I know it would be a life changing day. I thought going to the mall to buy some new clothes would “ease the pain”, so I grabbed my keys and left for the mall. Upon arriving at my favorite store I noticed an older, well-dressed man staring at some of the girls. I thought he was creepy and tried to avoid him, but didn’t pay too much attention. After trying on 30 articles of clothing, and not being satisfied with a single one, I decided to go home. As I was leaving the store, I was approached by that same man who then tried to strike up a conversation with me. He introduced himself as a talent scout and wanted me to participate in a photo shoot for a small local alternative clothing store. “Are you sure you want me as a model?” I asked. I was sure that he was making some kind of mistake. At five foot five and one hundred and twenty pounds I did not look like the models I was accustomed to
Growing up as a young girl in the suburbs, my parents were always working so I looked to magazines and popular television dramas to show me how I should look and act. I was shown from an early age that in order to be normal, women needed to wear makeup, diet, and keep up with the latest fashion trends. With this in mind, and no one to tell me otherwise, I was constantly trying to fit in. Media was an authority figure in my life, because my parents were, for the most part, absent. During my high school years I struggled with depression and eating disorders, trying to fit the perfect mold I had seen on every television station since I was a child. I did acknowledge that not everyone thought they should look like a supermodel, but I still thought I needed to. I was pressured to conform to society’s standard of beauty. Ironically, my first experience modeling showed me that I didn’t need to look up to models and celebrities as idols; I needed to embrace the beauty within myself.
That morning I woke up in a bad mood, but little did I know it would be a life changing day. I thought going to the mall to buy some new clothes would “ease the pain”, so I grabbed my keys and left for the mall. Upon arriving at my favorite store I noticed an older, well-dressed man staring at some of the girls. I thought he was creepy and tried to avoid him, but didn’t pay too much attention. After trying on 30 articles of clothing, and not being satisfied with a single one, I decided to go home. As I was leaving the store, I was approached by that same man who then tried to strike up a conversation with me. He introduced himself as a talent scout and wanted me to participate in a photo shoot for a small local alternative clothing store. “Are you sure you want me as a model?” I asked. I was sure that he was making some kind of mistake. At five foot five and one hundred and twenty pounds I did not look like the models I was accustomed to