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reading my old diaries made me realise that, damn, things just haven’t changed. the insecurities and uncertainties are exactly the same. no matter how many positive body images we are presented with, it will always be that one negative comment that drags us straight to the bottom. we can blame supermodels, the media – unrealistic teen shows that use gorgeous twenty-five-year-old actors to portray awkward teens – but the problem remains within. girls are taught to dislike their bodies and aspire to something else from a young age. no matter what you look like, you’re told that you can always be better. boobs are always too small or too big. the same goes for butts. it would seem that our waistlines can never be too small, our thighs never too thin. but i’m being overly generic. western culture demands a woman be childishly thin, yet across the globe, a skinny frame is a sign of poverty, not plenty. women in the far east bleach their skin to be whiter. but in europe, it’s sunbeds and spray tans to maintain an artificial glow. if it’s not your thighs then it’s your nose. how about your feet? perfection is an illusion and one we should all forget about. i include the men in this too, it’s not as though you have been spared.

don’t get me started on:
my god. periods are so inconvenient at times. i knew mine was coming. but i just hate wasting sanitary items in the prolonged periods (ha) of expectation. then we were dancing and suddenly i was like “whooops, there it is!”

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