The Scrutiny of Appearance

Ashley Judd is the latest celebrity in the spotlight of scrutiny for her physical appearance.  Her face is puffy.  Critics assumed she had work done.  The reality, she was ill for a month and was taking steroids.  In addition, she confessed to not working out for six months and consequently gained weight.  Society deems her size 8 no longer thin and beautiful.

Ms. Judd answered her critics in a thought provoking article( click here to read Ashley Judd's article).  Apart from raising awareness of how we are quick to judge and criticize one another based solely on appearance, she invited us into a conversation.  She asked the following questions:  “Why was a puffy face cause for such a conversation in the first place? How, and why, did people participate? If not in the conversation about me, in parallel ones about women in your sphere? What is the gloating about? What is the condemnation about? What is the self-righteous alleged “all knowing” stance of the media about? How does this symbolize constraints on girls and women, and encroach on our right to be simply as we are, at any given moment? How can we as individuals in our private lives make adjustments that support us in shedding unconscious actions, internalized beliefs, and fears about our worthiness, that perpetuate such meanness? What can we do as families, as groups of friends?”

I find myself caught up in the criticism.  I notice when people gain or lose weight; I notice if they are aging too fast.  And I wonder why I care.  What does it do for me to participate in the critical conversation?  The simple answer is that it allows me the opportunity to feel a little better about myself.  For a brief moment, I get a distraction from my own insecurities and shortcomings.  I can ignore how much I despise my own lack of maintaining a healthy diet and exercise regimine.  I can ignore my own imperfections.  And then I wonder why do I care if I have chubby arms?  Why do I hate my saddlebag thighs and love handles?  When did I come to accept that thin and pretty was the standard of personal perfection?  My head preaches about character, values, and integrity as the ideal.  And I believe this, but I still find myself participating in the pursuit of physical perfection – and if I cannot achieve it in myself, I will be sure to identify everyone else who also falls short.  In part, I am searching for companions willing to reject the pursuit of physical perfection, but through my silent criticism in my thoughts, I rip to shred those would be companions.   And if you are too pretty or too thin, I am quick to assume you are shallow or fake, and I have decided I do not like you even before I have met you.    This game I play is sick, and I am hesitant to confess it publicly.  But I think Ashley Judd is correct, we need to talk about it.  We need to confess our own inner dialogue; our own internal beliefs.  As long as we keep it secret, it will continue to destroy others and create havoc in our own lives.  Acknowledging our participating, accepting that we are part of the problem is the first step in healing. 

It is easy to step back and blame society and the media for perpetuating the pursuit of physical perfection.  To paraphrase Jesus, it is easy to point fingers at the splinter in others' eyes and simply ignore the giant log in our own eye.  But this is not the problem of the anonymous “they” – the “they” is made up of me and my willingness to buy the lie that appearance matters more than character.  The “they” includes me and my willingness to participate in the judgment and criticism of others weight changes, wrinkles, and physical imperfections.

I believe one response to the game of criticism to embrace a spirit of hospitality.  I am currently reading Dakota, by Kathleen Norris.  She is a Presbyterian living on the plains who found home in the Benedictine Monasteries of the Dakotas.  She wrote about the heart of monastic contemplation and hospitality which is marked by an openness to see the dignity of each and every person.  Henri Nouwen wrote it is only possibly to offer such hospitality when they “have found the center of their lives in their own hearts.”

At the center of my heart is a longing toward holiness.  My heart is on a life-long journey in a pursuit of Christ-likeness.  The journey is slow process.  At times it is painful as ugly layers are exposed and needing to be removed.  When my patience wears thin or the journey becomes extra difficult, I find myself looking for a break.  I take the focus off the center of my heart and I start looking elsewhere.  I begin to shut the doors of hospitality – I objectify both myself and others.  I strip us all of our dignity.  May I keep my eyes fixed on what really matters and become one less participant in the pursuit of the physical ideal.