Earlier this week a woman named Denise Jolly posed for this picture:
(Read the article: “Why I Posed Naked in Brooklyn“)
Miss Jolly thinks she is beautiful. That is why she took the picture.
She thinks she is beautiful for the simple reason that feminists and liberals have effectively put an end to fat shaming.
Fat shaming is wrong. It is ineffective, they say. Better instead to “have a conversation.”
Let’s talk about body image. Let’s talk about what it means to be beautiful. We can talk about this and that and this some more, and then that some more, and then later we can go home and congratulate ourselves on all the progress we made today.
It’s all very trite, but more importantly, it doesn’t work.
A conversation won’t steer a woman like Denise Jolly in the direction of a treadmill, or to the fruits and vegetables aisle at a supermarket, where she should be making a beeline toward. Harsh, sure, but there’s a reason it’s almost impossible to separate the words “truth” and “hurts.”
Miss Jolly doesn’t need soft language, positive reinforcement, coddling, or a redefinition of the word “beauty.” She doesn’t need feminism, which lies to her and tells her it’s okay—no, that it’s fucking fantastic—that she can’t see her own toes without peering into a mirror.
What this woman needs to hear, plainly and simply, is the truth. That plus a good kick in the ass such that each 40-pound cheek can actually feel the contact.
I’m thinking someone like Messi or Ronaldo to get the job done.