Pressures of Growing Up Female ft. My 20s Taught Me

Growing up female comes with a whole host of challenges, much like a christmas chocolate selection box where an array of horrors disguised in tempting, shiny foil nestle inside. Of course, there are plenty of great things about being a woman, but this post is about the times when sadly that is not the case. More specifically, this post is going to focus on one of the most commonly discussed issues of growing up female: the pressure to look a certain way, or do certain things to be ‘beautiful’.

In a simple, kind world, we would be able to appreciate everyone’s differences, and also spend way less time thinking about them. What I think is even worse than the pressure to fit into a particular look, is the underlying concept that a woman’s worth can be based on her appearance; both how she naturally exists and through what she actively does or does not do with her body. Yes, it’s nice to acknowledge beauty, but do we really want to live in a society in which this is, so much of the time and evident across all media platforms, the most important aspect of being a woman?

This is what crossed my mind when I read an email from a lovely blogger called Charlotte (from My 20s Taught Me) who sent me one of her poems about the pressures put on women to look a partiular way and do particular things to try to achieve these looks. I really wanted to share Charlotte’s poetry on my blog today as this is still such a huge issue in modern society and it’s nice to hear other people’s voices shouting out against the things you as an individual feel are so wrong. Once you’ve read her (brilliant) poem, please go send her some love over on her blog!

The mirror is being a bitch

The dressing table used to be a safe space

Filled with endless possibilities

It holds an array of colours and brushes

To turn my face in to a different face

And I watched my Mother transform herself

From porcelain princess to ice queen

Or heatwave spice for her morning routine

But then I grew a little older

And the magazines told me to look a bit closer

Suddenly, I have pores to fill

Blackheads to squeeze

Hair to pluck

makeup to cover every space

because nobody should have to look at this face.

Off to boots I run

To buy creams, makeup, tweezers,

Straighteners, sprays, frizz easers,

products that promise to make me pretty

and banish problems I didn’t know I had,

until I took a second look in the mirror.

Why do we do this?

Take a maginifying glass to every bit of our body

and criticise every ‘flaw’.

When did we change from wearing a tiara

and exclaiming ‘I’m beautiful’

to fighting with our friends

in a who is wearing it worse competition.

How many women have cancelled plans

when they don’t like what they see in the mirror,

cause life will be better when they’re just a bit slimmer.

How many have called makeup war paint

when going bare faced made them feel inferior.

I cry for the day my Niece grabs at her flesh

and worries how the clothes will look on her body

when she will always be funny, and gorgeous

and perfect to me.

So why can’t I apply the same to myself?

Why do I look at my reflection and see

cellulite, fat thighs and blemished skin

and fail to see the beauty that comes from within.

I want us all to be 4 again

To pull on a dress and feel fabulous

embrace ourselves as we are

and see every bump, mark and scar,

as a museum worthy work of art.

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Charlotte’s links:

Blog

Twitter

Instagram

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Published by Alys

A 20-year-old student blogging about travel, mental health and creativity. View all posts by Alys