The recent death of Brittany Murphy has caused everyone to (finally) take a good hard look at whether or not an eating disorder could have played a part in her apparent cardiac arrest. I have so many thoughts and questions about this subject, some of which will not and cannot be answered. I have discussed some of these thoughts in an earlier post but feel they need more depth and obviously, I need to repeat them. I'm using this particularly opportunity to discuss women's body and weight issues with no disrespect to Murphy. Instead, I find it important for women to think about the following:
On a very general level, when people die, there is a natural response to say or think what could have been done to prevent it. It is usually at this point where one thinks of so many things. I can't and won't speculate whether or not Murphy had an eating disorder. It's not anyone's business except of course for Murphy and her loved ones. There are so many reasons why one loses weight. And I don't even think that it is necessarily (entirely) society's fault. Some people use their weight and eating as a means of control and it doesn't have everything to do with body image. That being said, many women who have eating issues are entirely consumed with thin (what does this even mean?) equals beauty. Combine this with body dysmorphic disorder and you have a catastrophe waiting to happen. Indeed, it often isn't about the body at all. It's about what's inside it. Previously when talking about plastic surgery, I had posed the question of when are we good enough? No matter how thin one gets, it usually isn't ever good enough.
We all have our body image issues, as small as wishing we had brown hair when we have blonde, wishing for blue eyes, etc. etc. Although I find this sad, because it indicates an inability to never be fully satisfied with one's appearance, I don't think it's against the grain. But still, we should look at these issues. Why, as women, aren't we satisfied with ourselves? Way too often do I have conversations with women who are gorgeous and don't know it; women who habitually practice self-deprecation in terms of how they think and what they say. "You look fantastic," I exclaim. "What? Nooooo." and the list will begin on why they are not beautiful: My butt, my hips, my thighs, my hair, my skin, my complexion, etc. etc. I am not innocent of these thoughts and comments, by the way, but I am struck by how vociferous women are in terms of denouncing themselves. And it just plain sucks, to be honest. What is of utmost importance here has nothing to do with how big, small, sagging, different sizes one's breasts are. It has nothing to do with if your hair is curly or straight or if you weigh 120 or 250. It has to do with happiness. And we need to ask ourselves this? Are we happy? Is what I am doing making me happy? Because I'll tell you something, there is nothing more beautiful than that.
