The Water We Swim In
My stomach dropped and my physiology went a little wild. Sweaty palms, beating heart. You know how it goes.
On the other end of my scheduled Zoom call was a room full of junior high girls and my internet connection suddenly died.
It wouldn’t reconnect and I was panicking inside.
We don’t notice the water
It’s the water we swim in, an “Image is everything” and a “just do it” world. Pay attention to the outside, “perfect the package” so to speak.
The hard part about cultural norms is that that they feel, well, normal. They are our constant companion and, so, they become our reality. So, when we see a certain body type or “flawless” look upheld in media and advertising, it’s assumed that that’s the “norm” for women in the world; that’s what our bodies or skin or faces “should” look like.
In this way, culture can be a brainwashing of sorts.
Beauty culture, in particular, teaches us who and what our culture deems “beautiful,” aka socially acceptable and upheld.
And while this “brainwashing” is important for all of us to notice, it can be an especially powerful tool to teach adolescents and young adults. Those are the years that are especially ripe with questions of “Who am I?” and “Do I fit in?”
And, so, those are especially vulnerable times for females to fall prey to a beauty culture that has specific criteria for how a female “fits in” and where she finds her identity: in the flawlessness of her “look,” of course. And there are all sorts of rules and regimens and products waiting to help her chase after that look.
When we don’t notice the water
The water is most dangerous when we don’t notice it; when we don’t realize that our ideas and ideals around beauty are culturally bound and largely consumer driven.
So, why the pre-Zoom freak out you may ask?
Well, years ago, I started to notice the water in a way I hadn’t before. I noticed how it taught women and girls a conditional acceptance. I noticed how worth and respect were largely contingent upon how closely a woman meets the beauty ideal. I also started to see with new eyes the impact that contingency had on females of all ages. I noticed their pain more intently and felt their hurt more acutely than I had before.
I also realized, with shock and sadness, how deeply this diverges from my values and my faith. I wondered if they noticed it too or if they were so accustomed to the water that they forgot.
I wondered if they forgot about the miracle of their eternal soul or the stunning beauty of their mind. I wondered if they couldn’t see the wonder of the human form, so brilliant to heal and so marvelous in its countless capabilities; to run, to sing, to smell the countless aromas and see the vibrant multitude of colors. I wondered if we all forgot the unity that comes when we see the beauty in one another, instead of using each another as a standard for comparison.
My heart was sad to notice what the water had done to me. I had learned to evaluate my beauty, my body, my worth, and my acceptance based on a fleeting standard, a fickle and narrow ideal that varied throughout time and cultures. There was nothing eternal about it. It had no staying power and taught my soul nothing but to strive and judge and compare. It had left me empty.
Back to the Zoom meeting
My soaring heartbeat and sweaty palms were evidence of my passion. I wanted to tell those junior high girls all about the water. I wanted to remind them that there is something vying for their time and their energy and it is not true beauty.
I wanted to tell them how the cultural scripts aren’t dependable or faithful or good or loving and they don’t lead to a fuller or richer life, but that I know a Beauty that does all of the above. I wanted to save them time and energy. I wanted them to see the water, so they could choose something different, something Real. A Creator and Savior. The source of beauty itself.
I prefer others not chase after the wind.
I also now find myself wondering if all of us who are a little older, a little further along on this path have a responsibility to those junior high girls, those high school and college-age women. A responsibility to tell them about the water and where it leads. And perhaps a responsibility to start noticing the water even more ourselves and unlearning what it has taught us, how it diverges from our values or our faith.
The sad part is I totally missed the meeting. By the time Zoom resumed, so had the girls’ next session.
The internet failed me, and, in the moment, I felt as though I had failed those girls. But maybe I didn’t.
Maybe by telling you, you can tell other women and other junior high girls and high schoolers all about the water and about true beauty. And, while you’re at it, you may even begin to see it more yourself.
Are you tired of being sold a broken brand of beauty?
The brand of beauty we are so often sold as women is way too small. It divides and dis-integrates us. I am on a mission to expand and re-discover beauty, authentic beauty. I believe beauty is the life of God at work in us and among us. Will you join me in exploring that kind of beauty?
Sign up and follow along on my journey. Let’s re-define beauty. Together.