Letter to My Body

*cross posted at blogher.com for the letter to my body exercise*

I get to step out of my news role today for BlogHer.com and participate in the “Letter to My Body” initiative.

This “Letter to My Body” thing is tough. I say that having spent the past few weeks reading letters to bodies across the blogosphere from women like myself struggling to make amends or remembering to praise this vessel which encases us.
BlogHer CE Deb Roby points to some fantastic “letters” to help get my feet wet in the exercise, Deb tells me “A letter that begins like this is going to be honest and entertaining:” a bit of Katie girl writes, “I’m sorry about the cake mix but i just can’t give it up. i know you keep suggesting that i add an egg or some oil…at least a little water, but i can’t give it up. dry funfetti is my refuge and you are just going to have to deal with the consequences. …. i feel you sometimes underneath the dregs of that long-ago failure. stirring. begging to be freed. how can we do that again? how will i find you? who is going to save us this time?”

And if that were not powerful enough, Deb then points me to an entire YouTube series on “Dear Body” which started with a video from MeMeMolly

So with all that in mind-here goes mine:

Dear Body, ( a parody of this post as seen through my life with an ample chest)

This is a very hard letter for me to write, so please bear with me.

I’d like to ask you, with all due respect and humility, to step down as my body.

Please understand this is not because I believe you can not or should not be my body. Please understand that I find you qualified, capable, and worthy. Please also understand I want nothing more than to see a your reflection in the mirror as I write about who will become the leader of the free world. I would be pleased and honored if you were that reflection.

However I am finding, right or wrong, many citizens of this country seem to react to you on an emotional level. Emotional, not practical. They can’t seem to see your freckles. They can’t seem to see your perfect wrists. They just see or read about your “tits” and venom or praise spews.

I thought that with your brain power, would come reason. I thought that you would be able to get a fair shake by bosses, by dates, by sexists, and by soccer moms. I thought over time people would begin to see that you really are an effective human being.

I was wrong.

Tonight, I’m typing as I watch you get ready for a party in Sonoma, California. I’m sad. There really is no other way to put it-I’m sad.

I truly believed you would be the best person for the job, and I had this nagging thought in the back of my mind that is now at the forefront: your large tits divide this country.

It’s not fair. It’s not right. And under just about ANY other circumstance I would go to the mat for you. However we are a wounded and deeply divided nation. We are a nation that praises young women in bikinis while denying equal pay to those in lab coats. We are a nation at odds with each-other as we push padded bras for our 7-year olds and Bratz dolls in halter tops to our 4-year olds. It’s ugly. I thought you could get people past it. I really did.

When I told myself it was gender that got people going, I refrained from asking and wanting you to step aside. Simply on principle, I wanted to see you be big boobed and smart because they said it couldn’t be done. Because it was my belief, this was all about being a girl.

It’s not, and I was wrong.

I firmly believe while the gender issue has given you a handicap I hope we all one day overcome, it is NOT the reason people have a gut reaction to you or your god given jugs.

In the end it’s media and it’s way of pushing that ‘sex sells.’

I wanted you and those knockers to be lifted and shoved together and in a lowcut shirt because for some reason they still get people very riled up, and not in the good way.

I really hate asking you to do this, but I want you to please step down and put on a better bra. One with less padding and a shirt not cut quite so low.

We’ve been too sex-crazed for too long and your boobs and your name brings a suitcase of anger to the blogging front door.

It is this time in history your nation needs you.

Our nation and it’s people need you to do what is best for this country. We need you to be true to what you say on your blog that nudity and sexuality should not affect one’s ability to be heard or NOT heard.

If you firmly believe that there is still time for you to change the hearts and minds of those rude and stubborn Americans who are clicking with their penis when they see “QueenofSpain” -then please, prove me wrong. I’ll be at some other web convention soon and I’ll push up my girls loud and proud and fall in line.

But I think you’ve tried. You tried with everything you had to overcome that one-track-mind-emotional reaction.

Let’s end the division in this country now. Right now. Let’s start with your blog and provide a united front against the techies months ahead of schedule.

Let’s take back this country for the people, with you and those large tits playing a much different role than you envisioned.

Sincerely,

Erin Kotecki Vest
queenofspainblog.com