Rebecca
On the way home from a short trip out of town, a girlfriend asked everyone in the car to take a stand: if you could swallow a pill that would make you just a little bit dumber, but would also ensure that for the rest of your life you would have a perfect body, would you take it?
I said that I would take two, in case the first one didn’t work.
My friend’s little sister was dismayed at my ready response, but she’s in medical school and has a fast metabolism. (What does she know?) When she got out of the car she said, “Then again, I haven’t had kids yet.” I pulled at the excess skin in my midsection. What I wouldn’t give for an even more vapid look in my eyes!
The next day, my friend and I were on a walk when a girl with a perfect body passed us. “She took the pill,” we announced in unison. With a body like that, no way she was also intelligent. It doesn’t work with my theory of eventual equality, which surmises that if somehow, that woman on the street really is smart, then she must be out of touch, or painfully dull, or obnoxiously squeamish. No one is better than me in every aspect of life; it wouldn’t be fair.
This is how I tend to react to people who are overtly impressive: I find a way to belittle them. The better a person seems, the darker their secrets, the more tragic their flaws, the more pitiable (really) their existence.
Though I’ve lately decided—just like that—to give up the fight and admit that there are plenty of women who are smarter and kinder and prettier than me. I’m even allowing that a lot of these women are also happier and have more faith and keep their houses clean and earn a lot of money. What I am saying is that I finally feel comfortable knowing that people who are too good to be true can actually be true. In fact, I got the idea to let people be wonderful from a woman who fits the description above. (She would be so wise…)
At first, I got nervous just thinking about it. But more and more I’m loving the paradigm shift. I don’t know where I picked up this habit of trying to make myself feel better about myself by looking for other people’s flaws (midddle school?), but it was terribly liberating to sit down and acknowledge that some people are simply out of my league. A relief because thank goodness, can I finally stop comparing myself to them?






37 comments
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May 13, 2009 at 1:46 am
Louise Plummer
In a heartbeat.
May 13, 2009 at 2:43 am
ErikaJustis
The brain capacity that would be freed up by not having to obsess about my body would surely be more than enough to offset the decrease in my intelligence. Sounds like a dream come true.
May 13, 2009 at 2:48 am
Carole
I love this. I totally expected this to be a post about birth control.
I think another thing to remember when you run into one of those impossibly intelligent, beautiful, kind angel-women is that most of them have no idea people see them that way. And after hanging out with you, they probably go home and think “How come Rebecca has it all together all the time like that? I’ve got to just stop comparing myself to her.” It’s true.
I heard someone say once that you should never withhold a compliment, not even from girls who “probably get that all the time.” It sounds trite, but learning to be generous with compliments really was the first step towards my being able to rejoice in the successes of other women.
For some reason, I’ve never resented a man for being smart, good-looking, and kind.
May 13, 2009 at 6:09 am
lisapiorczynski
Carole,
I love your comment. And I think you’re dead on.
Bex,
Are we just talking about the perfect body here or are we also talking about a perfect face?
Also, would I be beautiful enough to be in “the bubble” (aka the bubble described in that episode of ’30 Rock’ about 4 weeks ago?) Because that would feel, as the French say, extremely “jeaconfontue et imbeposibilitiable”.
May 13, 2009 at 7:50 am
Mehrsa
I think inside that bubble would be a great place to live. Flaws are such a burden. You are such a great writer Rebecca. I love this post the best.
May 13, 2009 at 8:35 am
Meredith Campbell
Great post. I’ve met women that I think are perfect, and now that I’m an adult I look to them as examples of what I could be. Maybe I won’t have their bodies or faces, but I could be more organized, kinder, and in better shape, if I just try a little harder.
May 13, 2009 at 9:01 am
Kahalia
Rebecca,
This is a great piece. Very insightful. It was dead on for me. Thanks for the advice. It’s a post I will read again and again. Why can’t we talk about this as women? It usually dissolves into a you’re great-no you’re great argument. WHERE does it come from?
Also funny because of your she’s got it all together, now I’m keeping up appearances line in your bio.
May 13, 2009 at 9:16 am
kristen
I also thought this was a birth control post at first blush.
And Carol, good call on being real with our sentiments. I recently had a shocking compliment given to me: “You’re pretty much the most popular girl at church.” What?! Although I know I need a pill to enhance my looks, intelligence, and my”out of touch”, “dull”, and “squemish” nature; apparently I can win Miss Congeniality.
“So I got that going for me. Which is nice.”
May 13, 2009 at 9:30 am
Bridget
I think ErikaJustis has it spot on. Surely the spare time alone would make up for the loss. I mean who has the time to be a wife, a mother, and write beautful posts? (That’s all I really know about you, but I am still envious.)
Over the last few years I have just mastered the art of being truly happy for my best friend (instead of feeling like I was in competition with her). That paradigm shift was difficult, but it brought new depth to our relationship, and leaves me with less stress and more kindness towards her. Now if only I could extend that to all woman… put me down for two pills as well.
May 13, 2009 at 10:25 am
Lauren K
Just like that?
I have to remind myself everyday MULTIPLE times a day that just because she is skinnier than me doesn’t make me fatter, or because she is smarter doesn’t make me dumber … so on and so forth, somedays it feels like I’m on my guard every second against envying what someone else has that I lack.
Perhaps for me it’s because I’m overcoming years of not allowing myself credit for being anything but awful at everything … but I still find it astounding that you could drop that habit just like that, please share your secret.
May 13, 2009 at 10:45 am
jill
Just yesterday I was reading this post:
http://www.stephmodo.com/2008/01/comparison-trap_29.html?showComment=1201845420000
And all of the links that go with it. I don’t know why comparing is built into us like that… but I love her statement “If God loves us for who we are, shouldn’t we love who we are?” Or at least try right?
May 13, 2009 at 11:13 am
kt
ditto Carole, kristen
I have been thinking a lot lately about the duality of the soul: my body and my spirit/mind. I think that the world would have me pit them against each other or segregate the two, while God would have me look at them as two elements of one person: Me. That he would have me consider my body to be as much a part of me as the voice in my head; That I should be striving for structural integrity; and also that I should be loving the way my toes are long and skinny, the way my ears are large and shaped like butterfly wings, that my hair and nails grow impossibly fast, and my colon is less than perfect (if only because it reminds me that God will make it perfect someday through his grace).
I do think that he created us in all our varieties because it would make the world more beautiful.
May 13, 2009 at 11:17 am
smylies
Lauren K–I put “just like that” in between em-dashes so it would seem preposterous. Shifting perspective is hardly an overnight experience. I’m with you–
May 13, 2009 at 11:42 am
Annette
In a sense, I’ve done it. I was on a medication that some doctors call the “stupid and skinny” pill. I lost my brain entirely for two or three months (had to add 6 and 4 on my hands, for Pete’s sake), but I lost a lot of weight and looked fantastic.
Trust me; it wasn’t worth it. Went off the pill and got both my brain and my weight back. I wouldn’t go on it again if you paid me.
May 13, 2009 at 11:56 am
Carla
I often focus on the flaws {or perfections really} of other women because then it feels like I’m not berating myself… even though I totally am. My husband is constantly reminding me to be nicer to myself, which really is the only way to be nicer to (or about) others.
I love “what if” questions, and this pill what-if is a great question to ponder.
May 13, 2009 at 12:47 pm
Emily
This week I have been struggling oh so hard with this….my (little) sister is starting law school in the fall, has gorgeous hair, is the coolest girl I know, looks fabulous all the time and is funny and so, so smart. I am constantly measuring myself up next to her. And it’s hard! Most days I would give anything to be beautiful, skinny, in love, etc, etc, etc. But every once in a blue moon, I feel fabulous about the gifts and talents I have, and I know that Heavenly Father has blessed me beyond measure. I fret that I am not in the same league as her, or my mother, or the boys that I wish would date me, but relaxing about it and being happy with ourselves is the biggest step towards personal success we can take. Plus it makes us infinitely more attractive. Great post!
May 13, 2009 at 1:02 pm
Rachel
And this is why I always feel bad when I do something well. If my house is dirty and someone shows up, I wish I had done better to provide a comfortable place. If it is clean, I worry that I left them feeling like they don’t measure up. If my children misbehave I worry that I’m disrupting others experience. If they behave, then others wonder why their children don’t do what mine do.
I feel like there is no way I can please the women around me–even the very nice and kind women. Either I’m not good enough and I’m obviously failing (hence worthy of judgment), or I’m too good so they choose to either hate me or themselves. This is why I hate succeeding. It seems to undermine the relationships that are most important to me. And so I struggle to improve, all the while hoping I don’t lose the trust of those I love by doing so.
May 13, 2009 at 1:40 pm
Cali Payne
Rebecca,
I thought Carol’s comment was SO RIGHT, and that’s why I’m going to tell you the following:
1. I admire you and your ability to make/nurture/keep friends. You have a way of attracting brilliant, admirable, interesting people to you. I remember meeting you the first time your freshman year (when I came to visit Sam), and noting your ability to surround yourself with GREAT people. Seeing those bonds still alive and strong has been a motivator for me to be a better friend.
2. I think you have a keen eye for irony and human nature, and then putting them to words. There are some extraordinary posts out there that you’ve written that still make me think. For example. I spent $10 on 2.5 pounds of cherries yesterday. I started to feel guilty for waste, then I remembered your thoughts on eating peaches out of season. There’s a time and place for it, and today was my day to waste money on cherries.
I know you didn’t write this post with the idea you’d get a list of compliments, but I can’t help it… you inspired it. I think you’re simply incredible.
Besides, I’m already feeling less malice towards “the pill,” because I’ve been blaming it for the SLUGGISHLY slow metabolism I now possess.
May 13, 2009 at 1:43 pm
Todd
The too-perfect woman. She cuts both ways. Women want to be her; men want to be with her. And most of the time, that’s an impossibility. So we look for faults; if we can’t find them, we make them up. Which is why, I realized one day, that for years I had been subconsciously muttering the following prayer: “If I can’t have her, at least give me a reason to hate her.”
May 13, 2009 at 1:57 pm
Mehrsa
I sort of want Annette to elaborate. Really??? What sort of doctor/pill was this? And exactly how stupid?
May 13, 2009 at 1:58 pm
AMG
Oh good Rebecca, now you can feel at ease and stop comparing yourself to me.
May 13, 2009 at 2:01 pm
Andrea
I think that is very important to be comfortable in your own skin. It is liberating and I have found myself much more happy, confident, sucessful, and grateful as I have learned to accept me. I feel as if it has opened up a whole new world of opportunities to me. Comparing my appearance, personality, abilities and skills made me closed off to a lot of people and great opportunities. A fantastic book that talks about this and the pill concept is The Uglies. I recommend reading it.
Ladies I just want to let you know how much I love this blog. I read it every day on my lunch hour. I enjoy your life experiences and perspectives.
May 13, 2009 at 2:04 pm
Laura
I would never ever ever take such a pill. Ever.
This is an interesting post, because I totally read this blog everyday and feel like I did in middle school/high school/film school/singles wards: “They are so cool. I could never be friends with them. I’m such a loser.” Y’all have it so together and are very cool. (I am slightly acquainted with two of you, having lived in NYC for 6.5 years. So I know.)
May 13, 2009 at 2:47 pm
Amanda
Shoot. I’ve known for years that there are people with whom I just cannot compete. Does that make it any easier? Not really, but I tend to sleep at night.
May 13, 2009 at 3:15 pm
jeska
A friend of mine was reading a blog, and blog stalked a commenter. And the subject line of the email she sent me was: “More proof that the world is unfair”. Turns out the commenter she blog stalked was 1.) an actual model (photo and runway) 2.) a med student in a prestigious University which has the toughest acceptance rates 3.) has won countless awards and scholarships 4.) has no debt because she’s a model 5.) got her first choice in specialty
some people just seem to have it all together. but we need to remember that God loves each and every one of us so much that He has given us all the skills and talents that we need to make it back to Him.
Which totally means that the model/med student needs more help getting back to heaven than I do. right? right?!?
May 13, 2009 at 3:18 pm
sunny
While I maintain that I don’t like answering these kinds of questions, I know the answer to this one: yes.
And I know that your post is true. And so is giving compliments to people, even when it hurts to tell someone she is better than you in some way. I always feel better if I just say it. So here goes…
May 13, 2009 at 3:46 pm
Lauren K
smylies — ah yes sarcasm, sorry I’m usually pretty good at picking up on that … I must be tired. Thanks for clarifying kindly, I really enjoyed this post.
May 13, 2009 at 4:28 pm
abbie white
How much dumber would it make me?
Love this.
May 13, 2009 at 4:48 pm
abbie white
p.s. my husband and I (+ two kids) are moving to NYC in August. You’re in Harlem, right? Do you have any tips to make the city life transition easier? Would love to chat if you have a moment. Or, if you have a family blog, I’d be more than happy to blog stalk it to get a feel for city life. Thanks.
May 13, 2009 at 6:45 pm
sharry
i had two thoughts come to me almost simultaneously…
first…would the pill make me too dumb to appreciate my perfect body?
and B…what have i got to lose? i have four kids and a limited supply of self-esteem – i already feel a little dumbed down. hand me the bottle!
May 13, 2009 at 8:36 pm
smylies
Really Annette? Really?
And Jeska, was the model named IZZY STEVENS? If so, trust, things turn out really bad.
AMG–yes, your perfection used to be warying. Now I rejoice in it.
May 13, 2009 at 11:34 pm
brohammas
You only have this conversation with women.
Men, or society, don’t seem to assume that looks and brains are mutually exclusive in males.
Why have intelligent women as yourselves bought into this?
I myself chose intelligence, as may be seen any time I stand on a scale.
Thats right folks it was a choice and I’m smart! Its midnight and I need a snack.
May 13, 2009 at 11:42 pm
sar
I think in males it’s called “brains vs. brawn.”
May 14, 2009 at 11:43 am
Zina
I’m guessing by “perfect body” you meant “perfectly beautiful,” but if the perfect body included perfect health, then as someone who’s struggled with various chronic conditions for nearly 10 years, I’d be tempted to forfeit a few brain cells to be free of that. On the other hand, my mind has helped me seek out good medical care and work with my doctors for treatment, so if I don’t get the perfectly-functioning body, I’ll need to keep whatever brain function’s available to me.
And on yet another hand, isn’t intelligence linked to physiology? So a truly perfect body would include perfectly-firing synapses, and I could have the best of both worlds.
May 18, 2009 at 2:38 am
Joseph Olson
Here, a post I recently read of my friend, Ashley:
http://birdsofashmae.blogspot.com/
Look at the April 13th, 2009 post – a wonderful idea!
May 18, 2009 at 12:14 pm
Angelique
whoa, its like you’ve been reading m mind – I totally believed in the more-beauty-less-brains eventual equality theory while I was at college – then I got to med school and met people who were way smarter and way hotter than me – I have yet to recover
also when I lived in NYC I would walk down the street and play the “body or brain” game with myself – like “would I trade my intelligence for that body? how about THAT one?” – but instead of imagining that the trade off was in the person’s personality or intelligence, I would imagine it was in their health – as is “she’s probably carrying both breast cancer genes” or “yeah, but what does her liver look like?” – I know, sick, but I was in med school at the time
in summary, I also would take the pill, twice
May 18, 2009 at 5:26 pm
Annette
Mehrsa, I don’t know if you’ll see this (as I’m replying a week after the fact), but I was on Topomax, a migraine medication. It made me constantly nauseated. I couldn’t focus on anything. My kids had to repeat themselves over and over again. (And I was in the middle of final edits and proofing on a book–yeah, THAT was fun.) I dropped a lot of weight–ten pounds lower than my marriage weight, even–before we clued in that it was the medication making me crazy. It was a very depressing period–I could find no joy in anything. Being skinny was the one and only perk, but being miserable (and not even being able to enjoy a simple dinner or have a coherent conversation with my kids) wasn’t worth it. On top of it all, it didn’t help the headaches.
My doctor had never seen anyone react that was to Topomax. Apparently, I’m special. I posted about it here:
http://blog.annettelyon.com/2007/05/stupid-skinny.html