When one is trying to shame, embarrass, or call into question the reputation of a woman, exposing her body is often the first weapon used to do sob

I began to feel like being fat was my fault, that it was a personal failure. Eventually, my only goal was to be thin, thinner, thinnest. Even when I lost weight, however, I still couldn’t please my critics.

The voracious-but-still-skinny-woman trope of a character rails against unrealistic body standards and eats tons of high-calorie foods, but somehow weighs very little herself.

I recognize that discussing any intimate health topic (or vaginas in general) makes some people uncomfortable. But any worry I have about making people uncomfortable is overshadowed by my desire to advocate for all of the ladies I know suffering from endometriosis and to provide the information and insight I wish I had found years ago.

Sexist dress codes are yet another way our society sexualizes young women and tells them that they need to modify their bodies to prevent other people's discomfort.

Many women at women’s colleges dress in a way that transcends gender, in ways that do not align with societal expectations of how women are supposed to look. Our individual styles go beyond gendered expectations.

The way eurocentric beauty standards related to skin tone have permeated other cultures is clear today.

By now, most young feminist are aware of the well-documented efforts students have made to push back against sexist dress codes. Administrators and teachers across the country continue to shame their female students for wearing “revealing” tank tops and shorts, claiming their exposed skin “distracts” male students. These dress codes, young feminists claim, are an affront to feminist progress...

I was in seventh grade, a twelve-year-old pudgy, buck-toothed, frizzy-haired, acne-prone girl totally oblivious to my supposed physical flaws and shortcomings. I lived in my own sheltered bubble. I went to school, did homework when I got back home, and then played in the backyard with our neighbor’s kid. I went to the library with my mother a lot. Perhaps most informatively, though, I lacked exposure to most media. I watched TV only once a week and seldom watched movies (except for the occasional viewing of Dumbo). This fostered a sense of cluelessness about societal expectations of beauty.

Our society very clearly communicates that pretty is everything. Pretty is skipping breakfast. Pretty is counting calories. Pretty is losing weight (and not gaining it back). Pretty is being told by friends that “you look so skinny.”

“There’s beauty in everything and everyone, and that shouldn’t be decided by the media or anyone,” Dayna Altman — a 24-year-old eating disorder survivor, graduate student, and mental health activist from the National Eating Disorder Association (NEDA) — told me in a recent interview.