Repeat after me, 'I'm not fat, I'm BEAUTIFUL!"

   Hi, my name is Enas, and I happen to have been born and raised in a fucked up time for humanity. As I grew older trying to sculpture my cognitive senses, the surrounding human race clearly stated that women are evaluated upon their waist and bra sizes.

   No one would ever dare tell a kid that she's "ugly" because she's fat, but they certainly make it clear that it's more than plausible to lose weight. It's one of those things that need not be clearly said; it's quite obvious how "important" it is when people pour all that time, money and attention into one thing... Hell, it must be important, right?

   Now, let's face a couple of facts... I'm Egyptian, and I'm sure all the ladies out there know the kind of body type we're all cut out for. Yes, pear shaped is the way we roll down here. The other fact is, I've always been an athlete, and sports have always shaped a bigger part of who I am on the inside rather than the outside.

   Having led an early life where my primary concern revolved around crafting the best possible version of myself (as I have previously elaborated in my earlier posts), I may not have been quite the girl whom boys chased after, but it wasn't long before I started realizing the global female mold that I had to fit myself into.

   Starving myself into alleged diets, measuring my waist line, weighing myself every other hour, only seeing the fat burning potential of sports rather than the pure joy of it... I started being mentally consumed by the notion of my size, regardless of how healthy and fit I was. I have to admit that for around 10 years, I'd had my several ups and downs, but nevertheless, my size and weight remained a criterion of self-evaluation.

   But one day, while I was researching some "media psychology" material for a college assignment, I watched a video that triggered a lot of change. The video explained the curve of female representation in the American commercial sphere, which although may be a little exaggerated than the case in our country, the bare notion still applies.

**for a quick glimpse of what the video discusses, watch this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_FpyGwP3yzE ... or download the entire movie on http://kat.ph/killing-us-softly-3-advertisings-image-of-women-avi-t1428140.html**

   Afterwards, I started seeing how my perception of my body wasn't entirely an accident, and that I was just another female caught in a massive commercial trap. I was only one more piece of wood adding up to the viciousness of the fire.

  What further strengthened that paradigm, is recalling how all the hotshot Egyptian female actresses looked like back in the 60's and 70's, and how they were ALWAYS perceived as, hands down, HOT! So, there you go... it's only a trend, and apparently, it shall pass.

   SO WHY THE HELL AM I FOCUSING THAT MUCH ON SOMETHING THAT'S NOT EVEN CONSISTENT TO THE PUBLIC PERCEPTION?

   Along those mental roller coasters where I was trying to live up to a made-up perfect female figure, I often hated my body; I hated feeling food in my stomach; I hated having to pick clothes from my wardrobe... It was such a sickening feeling.

   But then, as one of my dearest dude friends simply put it, "clothes are only meant to keep you covered. You buy clothes that fit you; you don't fit yourself into your clothes...
"Why, are you poor? Can't you buy new clothes that fit you if your old ones don't any more...?"

   The sad part about all this are the blessings that we seem to forget being thankful for along the way. I have a perfectly healthy body that has endured a lot; how on earth do I not treasure it by making sure that I properly nourish it?

   So, after a hell lot of thinking, and after recognizing that I've been subtly manipulated into the previously stated stance, I very well knew what needed to be done....

I AM FINALLY MAKING PEACE WITH MY BODY
I can't deny that I would be happy to lose weight, but I won't be angry at myself if I gain any!

   I honestly don't now how long I'll be able to stand my ground, but I ask of you to bring me back to this zone should you ever find me drifting again to the self torture zone.

   I am a blessed and healthy woman, and I have a lot of human beauty that lies within which does not abide by billboard standards. Remember that, and keep reminding me of it... for I was born and raised in a fucked up time for humanity.

The Cocooning Snake

  Butterflies. Rainbows and butterflies.

  Young girls. Pink bows and puffed tutus.

  Stuffed ponies and pony tails.

 
  But I never was that kind of girl. As a kid, I ran after elder boys and kicked them in the sheen. I often wore the clothes that no longer fit my brother. I always had my hair tied in a bun. I didn't look like the other Barbie girls. As I grew older into the teen years, I saw the girls sneak their way to the playground where they could spend their break time with their crushes or boyfriends while I steadily made my way to the various student activities which no one seemed to notice ever existed in our school.

  I was tough enough to pinpoint my higher purpose in life back then, and pursued it. No one "saw" me, neither did I make much way for myself to "see" anyone.

  Many years later, along came a frog whose croak bore magic.
"What animal would you think I would be?" I asked the frog, "what animal would you say inspires me?"

  I knew it would never reply similarly to the thoughts lingering in my head, for it's quite an unusual thought for normal people that girls aspire to lead the life of a snake.

****

  Snakes. An entity of muscles and strength. Feared by all. Respected by all.

  Emotions of a snake? Rarely ever the first impression to be remembered for, despite its genuine existence.

  Yet everyone seems to forget that snakes don't bite unless threatened.

   "A butterfly," the frog answered my question. "You're peaceful, tiny and you appreciate nature" replied the frog to my sarcastic dissent.

  But it wasn't just dissent, it was the disdain. A snake faces threat, whereas a butterfly just flutters its way away from trouble. Everyone admires a butterfly for its pretty colours, regardless of its slimy past. But a snake has to lead its life only noticed when feared, always sought to be killed, never to be embraced.

  In any normal case, the snake would just eat the frog, but this particular frog's croak simply hypnotized the snake. It was like a sedative that assured the snake it was not under threat. Although the snake feared not the frog would hurt it, neither did it want to hurt the frog, there was a sudden feeling of restlessness that disturbed the snake most.

  "A butterfly!" Could I truly be?
  For the first time, the snake had to choose between its strength and poise, and the chance to let loose and flutter off into the carefree butterfly world.

 Except, what would a snake turn into if it chooses to enter the cocoon?!