Where does it start?

Heya…. A huge thanks to those of you who have taken the time to reach out and comment on my first post.  The first step can be tough, but boy- I’ve got some friends that are as sharp as your grandmother’s burgundy button-up cardigan; and feel grateful for the insightful feedback.  Please keep sharing!  

So where does it all start, anyway? 

The big “it”.  Self-consciousness, aggression- feelings of inadequacy and self-deprecation.  It’s a pretty big notion to wrap one’s head around- you can take it as far back as early family influences, to Freud, to the boy who pushed you in the sandbox and laughed at your overbite.  When did we begin buying into the notion that an outside force can determine our worth and tell us not only what is expected, but also “normal”?  And please, if you feel that you’re exempt from thoughts like these from time to time- I’d love a slice of that perspective.  Because I think most would agree we live in a place that consistently tells who we are via billboards, magazines and online memes.  We’re told how to feel and how not to feel, and all in the span of a 30 second advert.  So where does it happen that these cultural influences change from an outside opinion, to elements of our own personal manifestos?  And what happens when we cultivate these thoughts long enough, that they eke their ways into our physical bodies?  It’s when we lose track of knowing these aren’t standards we’ve created ourselves, but instead adapted opinions we’re convinced are our own… that something needs to change.

(Before getting too heady about the whole thang- go to funnyordie for a laugh about it here)

I can tell you where it started for me, and as with most deep-seeded tales: it’s a seemingly insignificant beginning.  If I’m to really look at the big picture I can trace back the fascination (read: obsession) with my body to very early days as a young girl.  I have a snapshot in time burned into my memory… when a friend looked at me standing in cutoff jean shorts and said that my calves were big.  We were both young, and both tomboys.  More likely to be found climbing trees and making forts rather than trying on makeup (hence the muscle-y looking calves I’m sure).  But that moment cut to the core- though she never would have known it- because it was the very first moment I came out of my body and looked at it with an outside, and critical eye. 

I want to point out that my dear schoolmate was in no way being a “mean girl” (label) or a “bully” (another label), but reacting with that perfect child-like innocence that sees, ingests and reacts.  There was zero judgment in her assessment, and because I was young and seemingly carefree, I don’t remember my feelings being hurt at the time.  But the idea was planted.  And though it was the schoolyard that began this pattern of thinking… it’s the world I inhabit that keeps it alive.   We all become Symptoms of this world, the community, the cities and societies we live in. 

The media is quick to draw attention to everything that is wrong with said society- but less likely to claim responsibility for the role they play in perpetuating it.  This leads me to the big soap-box-standin’-rail of this entry…treating the Symptom instead of the cause.   We’ve become preoccupied with fixing things quickly, rather than examining their source- and this goes for both our physical and our emotional well-beings.  But we need to get down to the root of the problem, deal with the hard stuff and begin the journey to heal.  Pull up the roots, move forward and start fresh.

I live in a world and lead a lifestyle that seems dependant on people telling me how and when I will achieve happiness and success.  My career as an artist is a perfect example of this- it feels completely reliant on other’s willingness to give it to me.  Now instead, I’m learning how to ask for what I want and going out to get it.  I’m not sure yet if it’s that easy… but what if it is?

Josephine