Perception

My name is Beth. I am one of two Beth's in this class, and I have the pleasure of being Beth number two. I am a junior psychology major, and I am pursuing a sociology minor. I have already finished a Latin minor, part of the inspiration for this blog name. Formosa in Latin means beautiful, but it's not just a pretty face kind of beautiful. A woman is formosa when she has a beautiful face, a shapely body, the total package. Formosa represented an ideal Roman woman: gorgeous, smart (but not too smart), curvaceous, and someone who played out her social roles correctly.

Barbie is not formosa. She's more of a pulchra kind of girl: pretty, but not much else there.

Women struggle with image. We're always primping, worrying whether we have something in our teeth or a hair out of place, and comparing ourselves to other women. We worry about our prettiness while failing to acknowledge our overall beauty. This is not a surprise to any woman, or any man for that matter. What is a surprise is that we aren't naturally like this...it's fed to us from a young age by spoons like Barbie.

I was always more into Barbie's accessories than the doll herself. Her dresses, the bike I got with one of them, and the dolphin that came with my Baywatch Barbie stuck out more in my memory than her miniscule waist, lack of anatomical correctness, and conical breasts. Barbie looked kind of like me: she had big, blue eyes and long, blonde hair. The problem was that I didn't like how I looked, so how could I look to Barbie as my beauty staple? My sister, who was 12 years older than me, was my Barbie if you define Barbie as the ideal of beauty in young girls' eyes. She's always been tall, about 5'7", with short, dark hair, and eyes that were so black that you couldn't find her iris. She has a gorgeous olive complexion, and her body shape is unique: hippy, but slender, even after two children. She is the most giving person I know, and she has such an artistic soul. To me, she is formosa personified, but she doesn't see it quite like I do.

I hate my thighs. And my belly, and my arm jiggle too. They are the total opposite of pulcher. But along with my dazzling smile, infectious laugh, stunning eyes, and self-sacrificing personality, these imperfections are formosa. I am formosa. I just wish that was easier to believe than it is to write. I'm hoping this class will help me to see myself as a whole, not a sum of parts.