Yes, I fairly often post regarding my therapy sessions. I do it particularly when either I have an epiphany or when my therapist asks a question that splashes up against my wall of “because that was how I was raised.”
Now, please understand, this isn’t a wall that’s focused on keeping out anything that doesn’t match the whole WASP 1950s “Leave It To Beaver” June Cleaver world. In fact, my parents raised us to do exactly what Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said in his “I have a dream…” speech on August 28th, 1963 at the Lincoln Memorial:
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.
It isn’t that I claim to be “color blind” in regards to ethnicity. I firmly believe that one should remind themselves on a daily basis that we all are
…standing upon the shoulders of giants not only in our work lives (quote is from Sir Isaac Newton and refers to his scientific predecessors) we also stand on the shoulders of our ancestors. Every ethnicity on this Earth has a heritage and should celebrate it, and not feel that other heritages are inherently “inferior” because they are different.
Especially when it comes to Americans, because at this point, far too many of us are not any supposed “pure” strain of any ethnicity. Most of us here in the USA are honestly more of a Heinz 57 of ethnicities. Hell, I am too.
The reality is, I was taught that no one was really any different.
Additionally, I was taught to be an independent person, in both my thinking and my actions. Given my base personality is almost aggressively independent, being taught that simply underscored my natural inclination.
But, back to my therapy session.
I think it finally hit my therapist why I am so much of an activist for many issues, including body shaming. She asked me how I dealt with the pain of being constantly judged for my body size and shape. She seemed to think I am holding on to some huge burden of shame, fear and sadness because I cannot be accepted as who I am.
I really am not holding on to any kind of pain. What I am is angry. What I am is intent on justice. Our society does its damnedest to destroy those who have bodies that do not conform to some imagined (and fake) standard. Nor am I only fighting for those who are fat. I am also fighting for the person who eats 3x their body weight in food just to maintain their supposed “healthy body weight” and loses weight if they ever skip a meal. I’m fighting for the beautiful child who was born with Down’s Syndrome, who strives every day to be the best person they can be. I’m fighting for the models of the world who have to conform to that supposedly “ideal” body image, and are often bulimic or anorexic.
It is the same reason why I am a feminist, why I am an ally for people of color, why I am an ally for LGBTQ, why I fight for sexual positivity. It’s plain and simple. Each and every one of these fights are really for the same thing: JUSTICE.
I fight because I have the personality that allows me to confront someone who is attempting to be superior, who has no business judging anyone else.
I fight because other people don’t necessarily have the ability to confront these idiots. I fight because there are people out there who are so afraid of being judged that they limit themselves to always be marginalized, ignored and derided.
If I feel anything in response to those people who choose to judge me, it is pity. Pity that their lives are so miserable that they have to find someone they can judge as “inferior.” Pity that they spend so much of their lives comparing themselves to others, and feeling like frauds fearing to have their supposed “ugly” flaws revealed. Pointing out those with visible flaws gives them the ability to ignore their own issues.