Your Body Your Own Damn Self

Meaning:

What is this insane "cultural" entertainment obsession with WOMEN'S BODIES?!?!?!?!?! PERFECT BODIES! Bodies that are of course, merely a surgeon's Candyland. Listen up, shy people: no one's body is perfect and there is never any shame in a good, healing spa environment to accept yourself at the door.

It's bad enough that one of my vices is trawling the celeb websites (there, I said it!), but I have finally reached my limit.

And as some of you may know, my limit is pretty extensive. However....

I don't give a flying crap about how much weight Kirstie Alley, Rosie O'Donnell, English actresses we don't even know, and all those cellulite-ridden "celebrities," weigh.

I don't care about Amy Winehouse's insanity and drug abuse. I'm more outraged that she was allowed to play with baby mice with filthy drug-coated fingernails! And kissing them! They could catch The Plague! Where's the ASPCA when you need it!

Sad part is, I'm not even kidding--It's on You Tube! She can't even wear a complete outfit, how's she gonna raise mice and/or feed one of her drive-through cats?

But I digress. Back to spa-truth-telling.


I have seen REAL bodies of women. And no one--I'm talking NO ONE has ever looked like those stick-thin breatharians who eat no solids, who are constantly snapped on those stupid websites and television shows. (And I'm even more ashamed that I know all that junk.)

And I have never ever never ever seen woman who doesn't look like the real US--a little thick around the middle, maybe an under-the-bra roll or two, swingable upper arms, some extra backage in the rear and plenty of (dare I say it? ) CELLULITE!

Omigod, the world didn't fall apart!

EVERYONE ladies, EVERYONE has it. From the skinniest Type-A undressing haughtily in the center under the bright lights, to the afraid-to-be-totally-naked-in-front-of-people-because-of-shame, young woman in the corner.

I've see two-breasted honkers, one-breasted skinny minnie-and-a horizontal-scar, and two different times, no-breasters. Flat. Once, one emerged from the Jacuzzi like a Sea Goddess. She looked beautiful. We smiled. No one else noticed because we've all been touched.

In some spas, that's more therepeutic than an actual massage. Just to know we're all the same, and different. It's not the "Hollywood" impossible-to-achieve-body we need to accept as ours.

We need to accept the beauty in all of us. Flaws and all.

In beauty.