Body image

She looked at the array of magazines on the coffee table in the waiting room. She picked the one that she knew would cause her the most distress. The woman on the cover looked perfect but she knew that the curves of her waist and legs had been air brushed. No real human being could ever look that perfect. She turned the page, no perfect bodies and perfect faces, just a list with page numbers. Unfortunately, after that she was very unlucky. Almost every page had images of women with legs that went on forever and their shape, oh their shape, just so perfec, unlike like her own wobbly bits. They flaunted their full and pert breast in tops that simply could never stay in place. I'll bet they used push up bras and sticky tape to put this ensemble together. And wasn't it common knowledge that models had small breasts? She told her self even as she felt depressed. She kept turning the pages, hating that there weren't too many left to turn and yet relieved that she wouldn't have to compare herself to these women. It was time, the nurse came into the room to give her a valium. Soon she would also feel skinny and beautiful. The doctor was going to suck all that ugly fat from her hips and thighs. Then it wouldn't just be them in the magazines that would look like that. She would too, even though of course she knew they were air brushed.