check out this Katya Zharkova article on the colossal shift in the perception of beauty

I hate my shoulders. I feel like I look like a linebacker in a tube top or the hunchback of Notre Dame in a bathing suit top, but these shoulders help me keep up with the boys while surfing. They remind me everyday of the wonderful mother that gave me these strong, bold shoulders, and without these shoulders - I wouldn’t be the sexy, toned woman I am PROUD to be.

Ursula

Growing up, I was always conscious of the fact my chest was bigger than my friends, and that my body didn’t look like everyone else’s. Most of my friends are petite and very skinny, I’m the complete opposite. This made me unsure how to dress, whether to flaunt what I had or to hide it away. I chose to hide it. But now, as more and more curvy women are being used to bring a new look to fashion, embracing their curves and ‘womanly figures’ it made me want to do it too! We should be proud of our shape!For years people have told me I should model but I’ve always told them i’d need to lose weight first. Things have changed now. I’d never heard of plus size modelling before but a whole new avenue is opening up! I recently entered this competition and have been lucky enough to beat hundreds of girls into the top 30! Public vote now stands to chose the top 10.Votes would be greatly appreciated!
Doing it for all the beautiful, curvaceous women out there! 
Please see http://apps.facebook.com/contestshq/contests/99667/voteable_entries/17221888?ogn=facebook or http://www.starinabra.com/ and vote Paris O’Connell 
Be Bold, Be Beautiful, Be You! 

Paris

I’m AJ, and this is my imperfect body. Those are my A-cup breasts. Those are my wide hips. Those are my thighs that already have cellulite on the back of them. That’s my teeny tiny belly button. 

This is all of me in all of my beautiful, powerful, imperfect glory. 

I was originally afraid to share this photo because it’s against my religion’s standards to expose the body in such a way, but I felt I needed to do this. I felt I needed to prove to myself that if I were to share my body with people, I would not be judged negatively and would further come to understand that through my imperfections — that I once loathed — I am perfect. 

I am eighteen, 5’3” and 112 pounds. For a long time I was very self-conscious of many parts of my body. I would look in the mirror and see everything wrong with myself. (“My hips are too full” / “My breasts are way too small” / “My belly is getting bigger” / “My thighs are too large” / “I hate the stretch marks on my hips and thighs” / … the list went on and on!) I would get out of the shower andjust observe my body for almost thirty minutes thinking of my negativities and wishing I could change them.

Worse still, I would compare myself to women in the media. I felt like I needed to have bigger breasts, or narrower hips to go with my narrow waist, or tanner skin, or be without stretch marks and the small places where cellulite had already begun to appear. I worried men wouldn’t find me attractive because I had these things “wrong” with me. I felt like I needed perfect hair and perfect teeth. I became so caught up in the idea that I needed to change my body, that I never spent any time loving what I already had. (I realized later that much of this probably came from the way the majority of women talked about their bodies and put emphasis on having “a beach body” or any other “body” that we women feel we need to have. Think about it: How many women do you hear having ‘girl talk’ about how much they adore their body? Kind of strange when you sit here and realize that this NEVER happens, isn’t it? I set out to change that!) And as it turns out, I didn’t and don’t need to change my body at all. In fact, if I were any thinner in any part of my body, my doctor has said that I would be unhealthy and unable to give my body the correct balance of nutrients it needs. He isn’t saying I’m too thin. What he’s saying is that… even with my full hips and thighs, I am perfectly healthy. Now, I look in the mirror at myself and see that I am a stunning young woman. I’ve stopped wearing makeup and let my hair be natural. I go shopping and I mentally compliment myself. Sometimes, I’ll even do it out loud when I put on that new pair of jeans or new top that I love. A lot of girls in my life have called me conceited for making these little comments to myself… but I don’t do it in a way that expresses conceit whatsoever, just confidence and content. I think they fail to realize the difference because they are not yet comfortable with themselves. So rather than be bitter toward those girls who called me conceited, I’m still trying to make sure they realize their beauty too. I have come to the point where I have accepted my body almost wholeheartedly, and I want to remind everyone that they can do so too. 

I want you to know this: Everyone we ever meet and everyone we never meet is beautiful — in every single way. You are a gorgeous soul — embrace yourself! Don’t be afraid to compliment your beauty! Oh, and… for those still doubting, I promise that you will find someone who will love you for everything you are. Someone who will think you’re sexy and beautiful and every other positive adjective. (If you find someone who thinks otherwise, then they aren’t for you!) 

BE WHO YOU ARE! YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL IN EVERY WAY! 

And don’t you dare think otherwise! :)

AJ

P.S. — If you would like to be in touch with me for any reason, I can be emailed at: rustandsleep@yahoo.com. We can exchange Tumblrs via email as well! <3

Hiya, my name is Hayley, I’m 21 years old and I’m 5ft 1 and weigh about 127 pounds. I’ve decided I’ve let my insecurities rule my life for way too long and by posting this on here, it’s my first baby step towards sorting them out. And I have to talk about the past to overcome them so here goes…

My insecurities started in high school around the age of 13/14 when my so-called friends started picking on me for the way I looked. I was never that popular but I had my own group of friends so I was quite content. But one day they started calling me for no particular reason. I couldn’t understand it because I hadn’t done a thing to them and I just didn’t know what to do. I felt like I couldn’t walk away either because I had no one else at the time. 

They used to say my body wasn’t in proportion, that I had long upper body and stubby little legs. They also used to say I had a big chin which is weird because I’d never even thought it was that big until they said. But I of course believed them because they continuously drilled it into me. They said I looked like a troll, ugly. It was weird though because one minute they were acting like my friends and the next they were saying all of those hurtful things, I was just so confused.

When I finally decided I’d had enough and stopped hanging around with them, I then started hanging around with a new group of people and I met a new boyfriend who was part of that group, but when I broke up with him they then did the same as the last group did and called me the same names and cast me out. They actually locked me in a rubbish bin and blew cigarette smoke in there and didn’t let me out for 20 mins despite the fact I’m asthmatic and threw things and shouted names at me every time I got on the same bus as them. I felt so hated and rejected.

At the time my mum and dad had divorced and we’d moved out of the house I’d lived in since I was a baby , and I was now living at my grandparents house with my mum instead. It was all a bit cramped, there wasn’t much privacy and me and my mum were constantly arguing so it was quite stressful.

As a result of all of this I started self harming, cutting my arms, wrists and stomach with a razor pretty much every single day. It was honestly one of the lowest points of my life. I just wanted to be someone else; I felt depressed, alone and hated. When my mum found out I was doing it she was so upset and I felt so guilty and ashamed but at the same time it was like when I could physically see and feel the pain I emotionally felt it somehow felt better. Mum finding out was a wake up call though and I stopped doing it.

I stopped hanging around with those people (even though it was hard to completely avoid them as we were in the same classes at school but at break times I avoided them).  I also had a new friend who later became a boyfriend. He helped me to feel better about myself and I felt like I could trust him and he just got me. Even though we have since split, we are still good friends and I will always be grateful to him for being so kind to me when no one else was during that horrible period. 

I still have a long way to go to sorting out my self-image though; I’m still insecure & I still have my bad days. 7 years on I now have a great group of friends and an ace boyfriend (who is constantly telling me to “believe in my own shit”). So this is the start of me “believing in my own shit”. My aim is to believe I am not ugly and to not have this horrible fear of rejection I have (constantly thinking people are going to leave me because I’m annoying/ugly etc). They kind of go hand in hand really so I need to tackle both problems.And I will.

The picture I’ve uploaded was taken on holiday earlier this year. I like it because you can see my legs on it and I think they look quite good! Not at all “stubby”. I like to think of it as a middle finger to all of those people who were arseholes to me :)

Everyone is beautiful in their own way and everyone has the right to feel comfortable in their own skin and to not have that taken away from them & I think Lady Gaga has set a good example to live by with this quote:

 “When I say to you, there is nobody like me, and there never was, that is a statement I want every woman to feel and make about themselves.”

http://supernovasupernova.tumblr.com/

Hayley

I used to hate myself more than anything else on earth.

When I was in 5th grade, I made a new best friend, Jordan. I thought she
was beautiful, and even though we aren’t friends anymore, I still do. But
you see, compared to Jor, I felt that I was nothing. Compared to her, I
was short, fat, and ugly. Because of that, I strived to catch up to her. I
tried to starve myself, and I even went as far as being bulimic. When that
didn’t work, I began cutting. The physical pain overcame the mental pain,
and in some way, it helped me.

In 6th and 7th grade, I moved from house to house to house, but I stayed
in my school. I watched everyone blossom from awkward kids to gorgeous
teenagers. And there I was, still short and chubby. My self-esteem hit an
all-time low. I even attempted suicide once, by overdosing on sleeping
pills. My life was a mess, and it was still self-inflicted.

Until I met two people that made me realize the truth about myself.

I’m in 8th grade now, and I think I’m great the way I am. I no longer see
myself as chubby, but as curvy. I can wear shorts and skirts and tank tops
without being ashamed of what I see in the mirror. Now, I love who I am.

I still have my “diet plans” written in an old notebook, and my arms are
still covered in thin lines that used to soothe and calm me. But even
though I still feel sad at times, I don’t cut anymore. It was a hard habit
to break, but I did it and so could you.

Chloe 

I am sick to death of living in a society where there is pressure by the media and even friends and family to look thinner. Not healthier - but thinner. I have enjoyed reading this blog and being introduced to many wonderfully courageous and beautiful women and men. I am touched by many of your stories.

You have encouraged me. I will no longer stand in the gym wishing I had that girls hair, or that girls thighs, or that girls smile. I am going to start believing in myself. To be more than just happy with what I have been given. I am ecstatic.  I am a beautiful, fierce, clever 23 year old woman. And I am going to love myself for me.

Introduce yourself if you want a chat. I will be happy to meet you!

 http://flowersgobang.tumblr.com/

Blah blah blah, I was fat from childhood, blah blah blah, hardship.
Then there was high school where more tough times were had. Then there wasn’t. Here I am.
My entire life has been lived in this body at its many weights and right now, at the heaviest in my life, I am finally happy. After 21 years of walking, loving and fighting this world, I have realized that it isn’t about what’s wrong with me, it’s about finding what’s right. And who says what’s right? Why should “skinny” be the only right answer to the question, “what is beautiful?”
I have a belly. I have dimpled thighs. I have a fat chin. I have a partner who loves me just as I am and through his love (and Tumblr and the body acceptance movement), I have learned to love myself as well. This is me. 5’5”, size 16-18, pale, imperfect but perfectly so.I’m happy, I’m loved, and I am BEAUTIFUL.
loveisrelentless.tumblr.com

Callie

Hi everyone. This is me.

I used to think, man, I’m so fat. All the girls around me are skinnier than me, my thighs are so huge, my hips are big, etc. Even my parents weren’t helpful. My mom would always say “Your butt looks big. Your legs are fat.” Who cares? As long as I feel satisfied with what I look like, that’s all that matters. When you’re happy with yourself, no one can bring you down. If you’re happy with yourself, how can someone say “No they aren’t happy”? Be yourself. That is all that matters. When you’re happy, you’re beautiful. Look in the mirror, and instead of thinking negatively, think “I have a nice smile. I am a good person. I love myself inside and out.” Everyone is beautiful and numbers don’t matter. Be loud and proud about whatever you look like! If everyone looked the same, no one would be beautiful. Your differences are what make you beautiful.

But I don’t care anymore. Being happy is what makes you beautiful not a certain size or number. 

I’m 5’3”, and the last time I checked, I was 168 lbs, but I’m learning the number on the scale is not important.

My story is not too different from many others: I’ve been overweight pretty much all my life, and always heard the comments of “you’d be so pretty if you’d just lose some weight!” and the always “she has pretty eyes/a pretty face”. I never really thought much of it when I was younger, though I was teased a bit, because I was one of the “popular” kids and I thought it didn’t matter that I couldn’t really share clothes with my friends. In private, I was upset that I couldn’t shop at the “cute” stores and was already wearing junior’s sizes at age 9, but on the whole, I wasn’t too worried.

It wasn’t until I got to middle school that I really began to hate my looks. I saw all these skinny, pretty girls around who had boyfriends and were popular. I went from being popular to suddenly nobody, as I was going to a different middle school than most of my friends. I had already been overeating (my sweet nana always used to make me lunch when I got home from school, despite the fact I had already eaten lunch!) and it just increased the more depressed I got. At the end of 7th grade, I decided to make a change: I cut down to drinking one soda a day instead of 4, and tried to eat healthier. I even became a vegetarian in hopes of losing weight. And, well, it worked. I lost a lot of weight, but I still wasn’t happy.

This continued into 9th grade, where it was to the point I was eating nothing but a single container of yogurt everyday and a small glass of gatorade. I was losing weight, but I was still depressed. It was also at this time that I made my first suicide attempt—and when the cutting began.

Despite my weight loss, I still wasn’t happy. I was cutting and crying and I still saw myself as fat in the mirror. And my parents forced me to eat again, and I gained the weight back, naturally.

Fast forward some years to today: the struggle continues, but it’s getting better each day. I don’t starve myself anymore, or cut. In fact, the tattoo you see on my left wrist is a reminder to myself to not cut, and that things will be okay. It’s not always easy, but I’m trying to love myself and just be happy being me. 

We only get one life, so we might as well enjoy it and not let anything, especially ourselves, hold us back.

I’m always here for anyone :)

http://rubberducksandmilkyways.tumblr.com

Nikki

I don’t see myself as something beautiful; I think my breasts are ugly and that my face doesn’t have the right proportions and blahblahblah… but every single one of you that has posted on here is beautiful in your own way. So, maybe if I think all of you are beautiful, maybe some girl [or boy] will think I’m beautiful and then they’ll post here about their story and inspire somebody else to post here and the chain will go on… then slowly we’ll start to realize that in our own ways we are beautiful even if the media [or whomever] doesn’t tell us so.”

My name is Alexandra. I come from Baltimore, Maryland. I’ve lived here my whole life and never really gotten out to see the world. Ever since I was a kid I’ve always been bigger, always being told I was in the 98^th percentile [height and weight], I wasn’t average. At school I was a loner, I didn’t have many friends and didn’t fit in… at home I stayed inside or explored the woods, still without friends. Everybody in school played a sport, everybody was thin, and on top of that everybody had money… I didn’t have any of that.

In 6^th grade I started middle school away from the few friends I had, so naturally I tried to fit in and be the in crowd. But still I was too big, my boobs were too big, I was too tall, I was too fat, I didn’t have a boyfriend, everything kids in middle school think you should have I didn’t. I got myself in trouble that year and ended started to hate looking at myself, I thought I couldn’t be pretty because I wasn’t what everybody else looked like… as 6^th grade ended I wore baggy shorts and hoodies, I didn’t want people to see my body, that got worse. The summer after 6^th my cousin and I got sexually harassed [verbally and physically] by a 16 year-old boy, she got the worst of it. She was a year younger than me. I hated myself after that, I thought my body was disgusting and I couldn’t stand I had let that happen to her.

Then 7^th grade rolled around and I was at an all time low. Everything I wore was three sizes too big and men’s clothing,  I found people who could get prescription pain medication and started taking that to numb everything, I started to cut, and refused to take my anti-depressants. I hated everything, my body, my personality, my school, my family, everything. That summer my mother, my brother, and I moved in with her fiancé, by then I’d stopped cutting and pill-popping.

In 8^th grade I was back to ground zero, the few friends I had made in 7^th grade were back at my old school and now I was at a completely new school, I didn’t know anybody. I started to cut again shortly but soon found myself stopping that, I didn’t even have the effort.

This pattern of hate has continued even through this year, I’ve gone from highs to lows and never liked my body; but now I’m starting to learn that I am beautiful in my own way even if I’m not a size zero with 32 C sized breasts and a 32 – 24 – 32 figure and I hope other people start seeing this about themselves too. Starting today I’m going to write down something beautiful about myself and I challenge everybody to do the same too. Todays Beauty: My Eyes.

Lex

My name’s Kayt. This photo was taken the night of homecoming. I was 5’ 6” and roughly 215 pounds. And I felt beautiful. I didn’t care what other people thought of me that night. But it hadn’t always been that way, and it still isn’t. Throughout middle school, I was picked on for my weight, my lisp, for anything they could pick on. It killed how I look at myself. Before middle school, I wasn’t afraid to smile. I wasn’t self-conscious about how my eyes wander up to the ceiling when I talk. I wasn’t self-conscious. It was my classmates who did that to me. But, I’m away from those classmates now. They’re in the grade below me now. And I’m still having trouble loving myself. But that’s alright. Because every day, I look in the mirror and think, screw what they think. I’m beautiful, just the way I am. I have friends who love me, for me. I have a bright future and nothing anybody- not even myself- says is gonna change that.

And to you, who is reading this right now, you are beautiful as well. I will always believe that, because simply put, you are. 

Keep your chin up, kid. Things’ll clear up and you’ll see the sunshine soon. 

xoxo,

prettymonst3r.tumblr.com