I have a suggestion. No, a demand. Let’s retire the phrase “real woman”.
I love that the definition of beauty extends beyond a size two. I am happy to hear people calling women like Kim Kardashian or Christina Hendricks sexy, instead of just women who are closer in size to Kate Moss or Thandie Newton. But somewhere along the way, in an attempt to celebrate curves and encourage women to be unashamed of their hips and thighs, the phrase “real woman” came to fruition. And what I want to know, is how a woman’s fucking jean size determines whether or not she is real.
You can’t fight the body image issues of women by cutting other women down. It’s counterproductive. Just because a woman isn’t as curvy as Sophia Loren doesn’t mean her value or worth is less, or that she isn’t equally as sexy. And dammit, it doesn’t always mean she won’t eat dessert, or that she is maniacal about calories. Just like some women aren’t meant to be a size two, there are also women who aren’t meant to be a size 10. I think sometimes people don’t realize this.
If we want women to love their bodies, we have to got to stop pinning them against eachother. It shouldn’t be a battle of skinny vs. curvy. If a woman is healthy and happy, that’s all that should matter.
Upon first glance, this might seem pretty obvious. He is 63 years old for one, and while I do like older men, I try to stick to those who aren’t older than my own father or needing someone to explain the internet to them. Then there is that whole part about him being a reverend. And me, well, the last time I was within 25 feet of a church, I was seventeen and having premarital sex in the parking lot. Sorry Moses or whatever.
My problem with Al Green has little to do with age or religious affiliation and everything to do with the fact that he reminds me of way too many guys I have tried to date.
I’ve listened to Al Green’s music rather frequently over the years, but it wasn’t until recently that I came to realize how deceptive his most popular songs are. Take, for example, “Tired of Being Alone”.
For ages I thought this song was about Al Green realizing how much he loved a woman and wanted her back in his life. He was tired of being alone, without her. Well, that is because that’s exactly what Al Green WANTS everyone to believe. He tricked me, probably tricked the woman (or women) this song was intended for, and I’m willing to bet he tricked you too.
Thankfully I’ve since wised up to his deceptive ways. Just take a closer look at these lyrics:
“You see baby, I’ve been thinking about you,
I’ve been wanting to get next to you, baby,
Sometimes I hold my arms and I say,
Mmmmm hmmmm hmmmm,
Oh baby, needing you has proven to me,
to be my greatest dream.
I’m so tired of being alone,
I’m so tired of on-my-own,
…Sometimes late at night I get to wonderin’ about you baby”
Whatever asshole! I’ve heard that before!
Now, I’m not mad at Al Green for wanting a little loveless lovin’. To quote Salt N Pepa, “You can front if you have to, but everybody gets horny just like you”. What I am annoyed about, however, is that the Reverend is trying to play it off as something more than just a late night booty call. He is trying to convince this woman that he needs her, when I’m pretty sure the reality is that he just needs anyone. Any warm body will do; she is nothing special.
It’s pretty clear that Al Green isn’t in love at all. Al Green just wants some ass.
In my opinion, it’s not cool to go around professing falsified love just so you can gain access to someone’s secret garden. The last thing this world needs is more men claiming to be in love when all they really wanna do is hit the skins. Instead, we need men who will be upfront and say “I want to put my penis inside one or more of your orifices, but don’t intend on ever making you my girlfriend”. I think everyone appreciates a little honestly when it comes to matters of the heart (and genitals). If more people were straightforward about their intentions from the start, we’d have significantly less broken hearts on our hands.
