This is about ankles.
The teacher made a joking reference to the fact that our bishop has had to speak to the brothers in our ward about not being so picky when a girl has unattractive ankles. Ankles! I couldn't laugh about it, although it's ridiculous. It was all I could do not to start crying, or cursing people out. Hearing this, I knew there was no hope for me.
Maybe you think I'm being dramatic, but here's why it struck me so hard.
I am a person made of weaknesses and strengths, inside and out. If you look, you can find flaws in every quadrant of my body. If you start at my head (which is a logical place to start), you won't even MAKE it to my ankles. I have blemishes, scars, and bulges from my crown to my toes. I also have beauty, but it can be hard to focus on that. The flaws are easier. So when I hear that I'm being scrutinized to the ankle it makes me wonder what's the point of trying? I can never be enough.
The teacher made a joking reference to the fact that our bishop has had to speak to the brothers in our ward about not being so picky when a girl has unattractive ankles. Ankles! I couldn't laugh about it, although it's ridiculous. It was all I could do not to start crying, or cursing people out. Hearing this, I knew there was no hope for me.
Maybe you think I'm being dramatic, but here's why it struck me so hard.
I am a person made of weaknesses and strengths, inside and out. If you look, you can find flaws in every quadrant of my body. If you start at my head (which is a logical place to start), you won't even MAKE it to my ankles. I have blemishes, scars, and bulges from my crown to my toes. I also have beauty, but it can be hard to focus on that. The flaws are easier. So when I hear that I'm being scrutinized to the ankle it makes me wonder what's the point of trying? I can never be enough.
And who are you to make me feel this way?
Do you brethren know we can see your ears? Your hair is cut short and you sit on pews in front of us. They're rarely symmetrical. They're rarely graceful. They stick out at odd angles. There are flat places and crushed looking places and creases. We can see your ears better than you can. What would it do to your self esteem if we cared about them? If they were a deal breaker? Do you think the bishop has ever told the relief society to stop obsessing over your ears? He hasn't. He hasn't mentioned baldness or tubbiness or wrinkles or poor fashion sense, either.
I don't know which of you are so concerned about ankles - Is it some of you? Is it most of you? I know it's more than one of you - but whoever you are, you should know that it's creepy. It makes you sound like the bad guy from an 80s movie. It makes me feel insecure and angry. I don't come to church for your approval.
Nevertheless, I was having a really hard time about the ankles. I went to my car and cried. I came back to relief society and, nope, had to go to the bathroom and cry some more. I cried when I got home. I needed an extra long hug from my nephew later at dinner. Then when I was alone again there were more hot tears, heavy and abundant. It was just one judgement, one insult, one blow too many. I'm not in a very strong place right now, and your opinions broke me a little bit.
But then I started really thinking about my ankles. My ankles are actually amazing, and not just in that, "Everybody's bodies are amazing because God made them," way. My ankles are amazing because I'm a tap dancer. My ankles can do things you've only seen in movies. My ankles are fast and strong. They enhance the music with sound and furious movement. They beat out the rhythms of an American art form. I'm a hoofer. My ankles are a legacy. They are a part of something bigger than themselves. My fat ankles have more discipline, more grace, more soul, than your entire lower half.
My ankles reject you.
My ankles think you are a bad person.
My ankles have never let me down. I can't say the same for you bretheren.
*actually sometime in August 2015
