Did you see The Photo?
Jaws are dropping around the world.
It’s a supposedly unaltered photo of Supermodel Cindy Crawford wearing her bra and panties.
“Unaltered” as in no Photoshop enhancement to add shading or erase of imperfections.
Of course, I had to look.
And when I did, I saw two things.
One, I was staring at body I’d love to have. “This is without retouching?” I marveled doing the math wondering how many zillions of stomach crunches it takes to get abs with ridges like that.
Then, I looked a little closer where I really stood in awe.
It’s probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen on a supermodel.
Slightly, and by slightly, I mean squint your eyes and tilt your computer screen to see what I see, slightly wrinkly skin on the upper part of her tummy.
This has to be from one thing and one thing only, the two pregnancies that created her children.
This is what I want to know, Dear Reader: Why is something so incredible not celebrated on the cover of a magazine?
Why do we women live in our bodies, punishing ourselves on a daily basis trying to shove them back into a package that looks like we’re 14?
And let’s be honest: Unless you’re Cindy Crawford, you probably didn’t look like that when you were 14, either.
Is it possible for us women to bear our battle scars with pride?
A woman could boast, “See here? These are the stretch marks from carrying twins for nine months. Do that math — this body knew how to make two human brains, four eyeballs and 20 perfect toes.”
Take that Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition!
Another would shout, “See these eye crinkle lines? Those are from pulling all nighters to get through that impossible statistics course in college, which I paid for myself, by the way.”
You want to talk beauty?
A gal brags, “This somewhat saggy tricep sits next to the incision where my chemotherapy port went in during my treatment for breast cancer.”
High-five!
A lady adds, “I earned these bags under my eyes when I spent the night caring for my ailing mother.”
It’s not such a foreign concept, this idea of boasting about body battle scars that show a life well-lived.
Just look at, well, men.
The man who says, “Here’s the scar through my eyebrow where I took 12 stitches in college.”
Or the man we admire for his limp. “Wounded in the last war,” he explains.
How about the striking gray hair that catches your eye? “Shows his wisdom, experience and maturity,” you decide.
Can you and I take on some of this? I say, “Yes!” to Photoshopping. Photoshopping our attitudes. Changing our focus.
How about enhancing our flaws? Talk them up big!
How about erasing our imperfect appreciation for our bodies well-lived?
How would that change how you see your body?
Me? My jaw would truly drop and my heart would soar.
About the Author
