Body Image - A Body Unknown :: essays research papers

It happened suddenly, surprisingly and overnight. One day I was a child and the next I was a sex object. Catching everyone from friends to teachers, parents to siblings off guard I had grown into a women and to some, a piece of female specimen that welcomed sexual advances, harassment and jokes. The one thing that has defined my womanhood more then anything else has been my breasts. I was thrown, unarmed into this situation at the tender age of 13, since then my views have changed. At 13 I viewed my buxomest body as a toy, an advantage, but after 5 years of being viewed as a sex object my views have changed. Changing my views ever further was reading Chapter 9 in Julia Woods Gendered Lives, this chapter dealt with the stereotypical roles of both sexes. One female role that applied directly to me was the sex object stereotype. Even after 5 years of continuous harassment I feel empowered and proud of my sexuality, I love my body, including my breasts. Wood described a sex object as so mething that was wrong, something that shouldn’t be a part of our society. Wood inadvertently made me feel like I was harming other women by embracing my sexuality. Wrong, I say, society has made me a sex object and I will do everything I can to make society deal with what they have created. I have always believed that my body was something to be proud of, something that I have treasured and praised throughout my life. For the first 6 months of my womanhood I felt I had been blessed. But, over the years I endured example after example that showed me there was something very, very wrong with the way society deals with sexuality. I did not see anything wrong when I was on an airplane with classmates and found them staring at my breasts. When I asked them what they were doing they simply replied, â€Å"waiting for turbulence.† That was funny, then. A couple months later I heard boys in the back row of my science class talking vulgarly about my body, naturally, I was upset, but chalked it up to immaturity and went on with my life. My freshman year of high school was the worst, so far. I didn’t feel like I could run in P.E. because the wrestlers, whom were all upperclassman would stand at the wall and yell elicit lines to me.