Maybe If We Quit Objectifying Ourselves

Somehow, our TV ended up on the Ryan Seacrest special, Fashion Rocks. Not really sure why we stayed there. Maybe it was because Duran Duran started singing, and we were thrust back into our 80s childhoods.

The next act to come on stage was Jennifer Lopez. I’ve been a fan of JLo since she was a Fly Girl on In Living Color. She can move like nobody’s business. Then, she became an actress and a singer. Despite what others may say, I like her. I especially love the movie, The Back-up Plan. While it may not have been a box office smash, it hit the nail on the head about pregnancy and the woes that accompany the entire experience.

She was announced as performing her new hit, “Booty.” No surprise that she would have a song to celebrate her rear end that has been famous for many a year. The surprise for me was when she turned around on stage, showed that rear to the camera, picked up her skirt, and bent over. I’m not kidding. She bent over.

My mouth dropped. Seriously? Did I just see her purposely shake her junk for all the world to see with unmentionables that were barely larger than a thong?

To make it even better, her backup dancers all came out and at one point all bent over in the same fashion.

The words of the song were the icing on the cake. Aaron and I use closed captions because we try to keep the TV lower instead of waking the kids. This gave us a literal front row seat to the lyrics:

All the sexy girls in the party
Go and grab a man, bring him to the dance floor
Go on let them jeans touch you while you’re dancing
It’s his birthday, give him what he ask for
(Let me show you how to do it)      Jennifer Lopez, “Booty”

Nice. How about offering up that milk without suggesting someone buy the cow?

JLo isn’t the only one. Have you heard the song, “Black Widow?”

Every now and again, I like to listen to the pop channels on the radio so I can be informed – “down with the 411” if you will. When you teach high school and community college, you want to be up on the things the little whipper snappers are talking about. But, I digress. I was listening to the radio and heard this “Black Widow” song. The tune was catchy enough, but then I started really listening to it.

I’m gonna love ya
Until you hate me
And I’m gonna show ya
What’s really crazy…

I’m gonna l-l-l-love you until it hurts
Just to get you I’m doing whatever works      Iggy Azalea, “Black Widow”

Seriously? (again) You’re going to love him until he hates you? Way to think highly of yourself.

Here’s the thing: I really like “All About that Bass,” but I do cringe that she had to include both the B word and the S word in a song that, for the most part, celebrates the beauty of all women at any size. My kids love the song, and other than the 9 year old who is starting to ask questions, our boys have no clue that it’s anything more than a great beat (our three year old thinks it’s “all about that face”).

Maybe I’m defending “All About that Bass” because I like it so much. Or maybe it’s because it feels less like someone trying to shove herself into a man’s liking rather than defending herself for her beautiful size and natural stature.

But what is with all these songs about booties and forcing our affections on men? Why are we allowing ourselves to be gawked at on a regular basis and then whining about how we’re treated?

If we (and by we, I mean all woman-kind) are so worried about the way we are objectified, why do we continue to put ourselves in these situations where the other gender is going to do exactly what we are annoyed that they do?

Are we that needy that we must flaunt our rears to the entire universe?

Are we that desperate that we can’t just walk away from a toxic relationship but must push ourselves — sexually, nonetheless — on a man who clearly has stated he doesn’t love us?

I understand that it’s in our general nature to gussy ourselves up for a date with our man or to primp a little in hopes that we meet Mr. Right. I get that. I’ve done that.

But do we have to continuously put ourselves out there — objectifying ourselves — in such a way that we belittle our own importance and lower our worth to where we only matter for what sexual wiles we have to offer?

Because, I’m so much more than that.

And I think all the other ladies are, too.

Tags: objectify, opinion, women