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Physical Aspects of Aging
Physical Aspects of Aging
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I woke up on October 5th, my 65th birthday, in a twenty-one-year-olds body. My first clue came when I awoke to an abundance of energy rare for me. The first big shock came when I raised my hand to push my hair from my sleepy eyes and saw soft smooth skin. The hair that hand touched was long, soft and wavy. Nothing like my thin, straight hair. Fear skittered through me even as I acknowledged to myself that I had not felt so good for a long time. What is happening? As I got out of bed to head for the bathroom I saw a fine pair of legs ending at pretty feet with painted nails in a soft coral. Rushing to the en-suite bathroom I froze in front of the mirror staring at a beautiful, I mean genuinely, without makeup, beautiful, young woman staring …show more content…
Being in her young body is a real joyful experience. I have none of the usual pain from a back ache nor the burning misery of inflamed sciatica. There appears to be no arthritis in my hip and these hands have a firm and strong grip. Platinum blond hair fell to the curve of my impressive, well shaped rear end and was soft, thick, wavy and full. Even just out of bed it had a sweet, sexy, mussed look unlike the gross bed head I am used to waking with. The silky nightie I wore outlined high pert breasts. A small, well-defined waist, accented both the perky breasts and the rounded hips. This body came darn close to Barbie Doll status but is much nicer because it is real and better proportioned. I admired the small pearly white teeth behind the growing smile in the mirror. Oh my gosh, dimples too? On either side of her lush, well-shaped mouth with its pouty bottom lip is slight indents that appeared when a smile lit up her face. The greenish blue eyes appeared coated in high gloss resin with the way they glittered and shined. The more I became familiar with the person in the mirror the more I wanted to stay right where I am. Even though I looked good in my twenties, I never came close to this level of beauty. That may be a good thing, I would have been a nasty piece of work. If I grew into looking like this I may have gotten a little full of myself I
Following Joan Jacobs Brumberg throughout her conveying research of adolescents turning their bodies into projects the reader is able to see where all of the external beauty fascination came from following up to the 21st century. Brumberg effectively proves her point, and any girl of today’s age knows the struggle of which she continuously portrays throughout her book. Beauty has become such a preoccupation that it has gone from soap and washcloths, to makeup, to cosmetic reconstruction of body parts.
I did not have the perfect body. I suddenly became aware of my appearance and made sure I wore makeup every day, especially on days I had Art I with Eric. Before every class I would brush my hair and put on lip gloss in order to try and fit in. To grab Eric’s attention I thought I had to wear clothes that made me appear slimmer and live up to society’s expectations of beauty. Pipher defines this as “lookism, which is the evaluation of a person solely on the basis of appearance” (346). Every time I talked to Eric I assumed he was judging me by the way I looked and not by my personality or values. I constantly felt like I was not good enough and that my body type was not the kind that guys found attractive. Pipher states that girls “sense the pressure to be someone they are not” (346). Every day I walked around acting in a play where I could not be myself. The more I put forth an act the more I felt that I did not fit in. Adolescent girls find themselves “vulnerable to the hurricane” (346) of judgement and predetermined expectations of women. After a while, Eric finally gave me the attention I longed for and we started to date. I had never been in a relationship before and I never knew how much tension it would cause between me and my
Maureen, her nanny, whose face is riddled with defects, still inspires Coralie to think that, “she [is] beautiful, despite her scars” (10), despite the imperfections she, herself, posses. Then I realized: Isn’t this the true nature of life? Don’t we often look at ourselves, picking out the flaws that we think others will notice? I do this too often, never once thinking that, in reality, people often don’t notice these imperfections or look down on us for them. For instance, Dove had created a commercial that placed women in a position where they had to describe themselves in front of an artist. Accordingly, other women with whom they had met previously were asked to describe them. Of course, the outcome is completely different, yet many women can’t see that. Due to this blind nature, people often try to remove their faults, alike to Coralie, who “attempted to rid herself of the webbing with a sharp knife…” (19), which seems extreme, however many nowadays go through cosmetic procedures to ‘fix’ themselves too. This struggle of accepting ourselves is by no means new—it is an eternal static that doesn’t seem to
Connie can be labeled as an average teenage girl: vulnerable, carefree, desirous, and curious. She has just discovered the power of her own beauty, but hasn't yet realized that power, in any form, must be controlled. Connie has long, dark blond hair. She is petite and seems confident in her looks, yet "everything about her had two sides to it, one for home and one for anywhere that was not home" (par. 5). Connie loves to h...
Everyone dreams of being “perfect”, but what they don’t know is that they are perfect. One just has to see within themselves. Everyone is uniquely and secretly beautiful, but that gets taken away because it is not what society wants. What society wants is for women’s self-esteem to be broken so that they can be morphed into a product of someone else's idea of perfect. In “Barbie Doll” Piercy argues that the pressures put on women by society affect their self-esteem. No one needs to change who they are for anyone. If anyone wants to change, they should change for themselves! Being you is all that really matters. The key to beauty is confidence. Something that everyone should keep in mind is that, don’t let someone change who you are, to become what they need; otherwise you don’t need them in your
In recent decades, society changed its perception of physical appearance and self-image. People place more importance on achieving physical perfection, however, this creates a large amount of pressure on the individual to achieve this unobtainable goal. In Marge Piercy’s poem, “Barbie Doll”, she focuses on an adolescent girl who was driven to commit suicide as a means to rid herself of the stress of being perfect. The poem brings to light the issue of adolescent suicide due to the pressures of self-image. This embodies many teenagers’ feelings because they can try to make their life as unflawed as possible, but some physical attributes cannot be altered. “Barbie Doll” shows the failure to accept one’s physical flaws and only finding happiness
For my character discussion post I am going to talk about the main character from Senior Picture Day. The story may seem a cliché being about a young American girl who dislikes the way she looks but ultimately this is a very relatable topic for most young females today. Not to say that all girls hate the way they look but most people when asked can think of at least one thing about their body they would change. In the story the girl wants to change her nose which she says is “far from feminine and was broad.” The girl in the story compared her looks to other girls in her school and specifically her friend Terri. Over the years especially as a younger child I can remember looking at the other girls at school and wishing to be more like them
Growing up as an only child I made out pretty well. You almost can’t help but be spoiled by your parents in some way. And I must admit that I enjoyed it; my own room, T.V., computer, stereo, all the material possessions that I had. But there was one event in my life that would change the way that I looked at these things and realized that you can’t take these things for granted and that’s not what life is about.
The definition of beauty has significantly changed through the ages. Women went from wanting to be seen as a survival partner to perfect sexual symbols. To succeed, they would experience insane health risks and body altering pain. Though many women have fallen to the pressures of media, not everyone has given into today’s obscene standards. There are still women that know beauty does not come only from the outside. This truth shines through the wise words of Amanda Peet: “Beauty is only skin deep. If you go after someone just because she's beautiful but don't have anything to talk about, it's going to get boring fast.” External beauty will vanish and no amount of surgery, chemicals, or exercise can change the toll of old age. If a woman is beautiful on the inside, however, her beauty will remain even when she is gone.
Ow. My head hurts. It has been lying against this wall for at least an hour now. I scratched the back of my head to move around my dark, curly hair. It was beginning to feel plastered against my scalp. It was a bit tangled from not brushing it for a day and my fingers did not run through it with ease; nevertheless, it felt good to keep the blood flowing. I was lying on a thin, light blue mat on the floor. My head was propped up against the cold wall as if it were a concrete pillow. My chin dug into my chest and I could feel the soft, warm material from my sleeveless sweater cushioning my jaw. I looked down. I could see the ends of my hair cascading over my shoulders. The red highlights matched quite nicely with my maroon sweater. My arms were folded over my belly and they appeared more pale than usual. My knees were bent, shooting upward like two cliffs. My baggy blue jeans covered the backs of my fake brown leather shoes. ("Christy, let me borrow your pants, the baggy ones with the big pockets. I can hide more stuff in those.")
I was hanging limply off the side of my owner's bed, staring into a mirror with stickers covering the border. My owner, Maggie was sleeping next to me barely holding with her arm around my hand leaving the rest of my body to dangle over the edge of the bed. In the mirror I could see myself, a teal teddy bear with a pink bow my head. My fur is not as soft as it used to be, now it is matted down and disheveled. My owner Maggie has curly blonde hair and big blue eyes, and as Maggie pulled me closer I know it's time to start another day.
I awake to lukewarm water dripping down my forehead from a damp towel. I feel a thick liquid against my back. I scan the area, Unfamiliar. I find myself lying in a cot in a filthy room. The sight room itself was depressing, not that it was in extremely bad conditions but it was all…brown, the kind of brown that makes you feel depressed. It reeked of fish and motor oil, one of the queerest combinations of scents I have encountered. My ears start to pick up the deep monotones of a man speaking in other room. In my drowsy state I couldn’t make out exactly what he said but I did manage to g...
Over the past 60 years the dream body has altered and it started with Marilyn Monroe’s hourglass and more busty figure. Nowadays we are so caught up on having abs and thigh gaps, that in today's standards her body would not be considered flawless by any means. In the 1950’s, ads stated “ Men wouldn’t look at me if I was skinny” and “ How to add glamorous curves to your figure”. This is this the complete opposite of today’s society. However, when the war ended it meant that rationing was over and women were expected to never leave the house looking less than their best when it came to beauty products. As the 1970’s came around things began to change when it came to women’s body
Almost proving my assumptions, her lips twitch, as if she’s talking to herself. I catch a few words. She’s singing. It’s idiosyncratic. I mean, who sings in the middle of the hallway? At least it’s not out loud. Her hair catches my eyes as my thoughts wander. It’s disheveled and almost black and wavy-not curly but not straight. She looks like she’s had a rough morning. Bags are crumpled slightly under her eyes. Her eyes themselves are sagging and closing. It’s as if she stayed up too late last night. I picture her out at a party then immediately brush away the though. She looks more like the type to stay up until two or three in the morning reading or studying. She looks sunken, deteriorated. I wonder how much time she took to ready herself this morning. Not a trace of make-up is...
I open my eyes slowly and look around. I’m lying flat on my back on grass. Blinking, I can see I’m not alone. Kale lays to my right. I’m a bit startled to see him there. I look on my other side and see Sadie and Heather. What happened? Then I remember seeing that old lady, and Sadie and I in the bathroom. I sit up, to take in my surroundings. We’re lying in the middle of a small clearing. The trees around us are unusually huge and different plants and flowers are scattered around on bushes. I notice my friends, and I, look different too, older. We no longer have our teenager bodies, but now seemed to have reached adulthood. All of us have reached a firmer build and look more like adults instead of teenagers.