Rant, Rant, Rant...Grrr

I have to vent, and cyberspace seems to be the perfect place to do it.

(To preface the rant, any of you who knew me when I was growing up know that I became a woman overnight, looking like a woman--from a physical development standpoint--when I was about 10. My sweet Jessica is her mother's daughter.)

So here's the rant-worthy scenario... We were driving back from a youth activity late last night to which I had driven Jessica and two of her friends. About half way home, the conversation turned to body types, weight, etc. (you know, the topic that makes every young woman squirm in her seat, wonder why the conversation is even occurring, and feel abysmal about herself), and Jessie's two friends started talking about how "big" they've gotten lately.

Now you have to understand the dynamics at play here. Jess came into her full-grown woman body a very long time ago. Right now she's a beautifully curvy-at-5' 2" size 6/8. She could stand to tone up a little bit and be more active, but can't we all! "Fat" is certainly not a word I would ever use to describe her! She simply has a great--and very mature--figure. In contrast, her two friends still look like little girls with my-body-is-considering-incorporating-them-at-some-point breasts and nonexistent, my-pants-won't-stay-up-to-save-my-life, hips. In fact, most of her friends do. They're 15.

So back to the story... The girls start lamenting the good old days when they were "thin" and wishing they could return to those glory days. (Really, how far back could that possibly be when you're 15?) Then the bomb dropped. As one of them was complaining that she's had to move up a pant size and it's killing her, this comment was elicited from the other girl: "It's ok--you don't look as big as a size 5--you still look like a size 3."

At this point my mind went numb, and all I could think was, "Excuse me--WHAT?!!?!!?"

Also at this point, my beautiful daughter, sitting in the front seat by me, is almost in tears and stops talking. She then turns the music up and starts singing to drown out the painful scenario in the back seat. By the time we drop the girls off and make it home, she is completely inconsolable and clearly considers herself to be the ugliest toad on the planet; and obviously nobody is ever going to want to date or marry her due to said ugliness.

To make matters worse, this is the self-concept train wreck that happened at school earlier in the day: All of the kids were sitting around before Biology harassing each other (you know ninth graders), and Jess was pretty much staying out of it. Someone said something hurtful to someone else that she actually responded to, and some thoughtless boy turned to her and said, "You're just mad because you have low self esteem because you're fat."

WHAT?!!? WHAT?!!? WHAT?!!? And again, WHAT?!!!!!!!!!!!!!? GRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!

I feel so badly for my beautiful little girl! May I please line them all up and flick them in the forehead?!!?

This is why you couldn't pay me enough to be a teenager again. Seriously, there isn't enough money in the world! It also reminds me of the two years when the only other girl in school who already had to wear a bra became my best friend out of commiserative necessity... Sigh.

When did our society become so skewed that, based on feedback from her peers, this child believes she's fat?