Just happened to come across this while browsing, and wanted to share it. I just did a direct copy and paste.
Here’s the thing. i do not hate skinny girls. i do not think jutting hipbones are ugly or that seeing ribs is unnatural or that you are wrong or not a “real woman” or whatever because you are thin. i’m not for that kind of girl on girl hate. i don’t see it as productive at all, and i try to make an effort to not participate in it.
what i DO hate is the idea that only skinny girls are considered pretty. i hate it when people try to convince themselves or others that only girls who fit a certain shape are worthy of love, or lust, or physical admiration and attraction. i hate it when girls who do not fit that shape are raised (maybe even by their professional, feminist, well read, beautiful mothers) to believe that there is something wrong with them… that they are not the right kind of girl because they have flesh, that they are wrong for having some love chub. i hate it when the remedy for this is, “oh, but you’re smart. looks aren’t everything. being judged by your body is degrading” because, no, it’s not. being judged solely on a narrow and constricting (puns intended) definition of what makes a body worthy is what’s degrading. we should celebrate our bodies.
i hate it when men think that they have the right to proclaim the only beautiful shape a woman’s body can be. i hate it when girls do this to other girls. i hate it when we do this to ourselves in the dark of night, pinching our thighs or sighing in the mirror.
because (and this is a big because) we are ALL BEAUTIFUL. ALL OF US. i’ve said this before, but it doesn’t get said by the world enough, so i’m saying it again. we’re not beautiful because society thinks so or because our girlfriends or boyfriends or best friends think so, or even because our parents (or children?) think so.
we are beautiful because we are divine creatures. the fact that we even exist, that i have skin growing over a body that at this moment is breathing and pumping blood and growing hair and seeing these little black marks on a screen and a mind that is even considering these ideas and issues— and you have one too— is a miracle. not a God miracle (unless that’s what you believe, in which case go for it) but just an everyday, dawn of time, the-universe-is-a-mystic-and-mysterious place miracle. your moles are beautiful; your stretchmarks are beautiful. your hips are beautiful and the lines in your neck are beautiful and the bony trail of your spine is beautiful, your ankles are beautiful and your knuckles are beautiful and even your nostrils are beautiful… and if we could just accept and celebrate that, we could change the entire world. and really, what more could we ask for?