Lena Dunham is about as insufferable as they come. She’s one of those feminists who’s all, “Allllll women are beautiful and amazing and powerful! Except for those who don’t think like me. They’re selfish and hideous and sexist and slaves to the patriarchy, and I totally want to punch the pro-life freaks in the face.”
In addition to being a horrible human being on the inside, she’s a horrible human being on the outside. And by that I mean, she’s one of those ridiculous feminists who gets all preachy about the bogus “body positivity” movement, which is precisely the opposite of what it sounds like. The movement is a glorified high school clique designed to make insecure/unhealthy girls feel healthy and empowered. They commonly do this by shaming other girls with more desirable physiques. Feminists do this all the time. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not defending society’s unattainable beauty standards, but feminists went the other way completely. They’re all, “Hey! You’re morbidly obese and basically sweat cream cheese frosting? YOU DO YOU GIRL.”
Balance, people. Balance.
When it comes to Lena, all bets are off. She doesn’t get to preach on body positivity. The woman posts naked photos on the regular. She doesn’t reflect the average woman, so why on EARTH would any woman take her advice on body image seriously? That being said, she was on the cover of Glamour magazine and praised them for leaving her cellulite unaltered. Because…empowerment?
She followed up with a lengthy explanation. You see, she was always told she looked weird, and she thought she looked weird too. But then, she realized she doesn’t look weird. Society convinced her she looked weird. So she continued to post naked photos of her body for the world to see, because she secretly liked everyone praising her for being brave. But then she thought to her self, “Self– why am I brave? I’m just posting naked photos of my mushy body on the internet?” So she decided that body isn’t fair game and no one should judge anyone’s body, even if they willingly post unflattering pictures of their fat rolls on the internet.
That’s my humble translation.
Okay, here goes: throughout my teens I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I was fucking funny looking. Potbelly, rabbit teeth, knock knees- I could never seem to get it right and it haunted my every move. I posed as the sassy confident one, secretly horrified and hurt by careless comments and hostility. Let’s get something straight: I didn’t hate what I looked like- I hated the culture that was telling me to hate it. When my career started, some people celebrated my look but always through the lens of “isn’t she brave? Isn’t it such a bold move to show THAT body on TV?” Then there were the legions of trolls who made high school teasing look like a damned joke with the violent threats they heaped on, the sickening insults that made me ache for teen girls like me who might be reading my comments. Well, today this body is on the cover of a magazine that millions of women will read, without photoshop, my thigh on full imperfect display. Whether you agree with my politics, like my show or connect to what I do, it doesn’t matter- my body isn’t fair game. No one’s is, no matter their size, color, gender identity, and there’s a place for us all in popular culture to be recognized as beautiful. Haters are gonna have to get more intellectual and creative with their disses in 2017 because none of us are going to be scared into muumuus by faceless basement dwellers, or cruel blogs, or even our partners and friends. Thank you to the women in Hollywood (and on Instagram!) leading the way, inspiring and normalizing the female form in EVERY form, and thank you to @glamourmag for letting my cellulite do the damn thing on news stands everywhere today ❤️ Love you all.
I wonder if she was thinking of the Chicks when she wrote, “cruel bloggers.” One can only hope!
Like I’ve said before, I struggle to take Lena seriously, especially as a “body positive” role model. I too was incredibly self-conscious of my looks when I was younger. (I was never “obese” or anything. Just not “fit.”) Sure, I was partly influenced by society’s unattainable beauty standards, but part of it was reality. I wasn’t in shape. Society wasn’t the reason I was unhappy with my physical appearance. I was the reason. It wasn’t society being “hateful.” It was me not working out or eating healthy. Never once did I think, “Hey. You know what? Beauty standards are dumb. I should keep doing me and up the donut intake and post naked selfies to feel better about my image!” Nope. Not once. Want to know what I did? I hit the gym and ditched fast food. After months of consistency and discipline, I started feeling better about myself. And now eating decent foods and working out regularly is part of my life, and I’m much happier this way. But feminists practically shame that these days. They say we’re caving to the patriarchy or something. Now they tell women to pose as topless mermaids on the beach and grow out their armpit hair and take cellulite selfies to feel empowered. Sorry, but that’s not what balance looks like either.
Be the healthiest version of you, and stop celebrating unhealthy hosebeastery. That’s the point I’m trying to make here.
If you’re still not convinced that Lena Dunham is the last person on the planet who should be viewed as a positive role model for girls in any sort of capacity, here’s another photo she recently posted. It appears someone is fingering a book. Because empowerment?
Cellulite, naked selfies, sex acts with books– isn’t feminism grand?