LIVING

Pubes

Pubic hair, like all human body hair, is subject to trends. These trends deviate based on age, status, socio-political climate, porn, and art. Charged by both its sexual connotation and publicly taboo nature, pubes are not often used as an opportunity for self-expression or art. Instead, they are seen as sexual accessories, assertions of sexual maturity, or activity. If they are making artistic commentary, they are inherently sexualized based on the thousands of years of social programming that relate the part to its function—the pubis to sex.

Pubic hair is not afforded the luxury of its less coarse cousin atop the skull that can be cut, dyed, styled, and the subject of editorials. Pubic hair is a subcategory on porn sites and hidden away or stripped off, not flaunted as flowing locks. The human experience is one heavily rooted in having a body, and a great joy of the body is its tolerance for decoration. Pubic hair with intention is rife for expression and can aid in the understanding of one’s own identity and beliefs. Utilize the pube.

Pubic, armpit, and facial hair usually begin to grow at puberty—not at birth like our eyebrows or head hair. At a primal level, they represent age and the entrance into physical maturity. Pubic hair takes it one step further and attaches itself to the part of the body humans have for the longest time been ashamed of. In a Judeo-Christian world, the pubis relates to the original sin. Renderings of Adam and Eve depict the pubis covered by leaves. Not only does pubic hair signify the location of a sacred part of the body, but it also implies that if visible, it is in a moment of intimacy as well as shame. However, as humanity evolves past oppressive and short-sighted interpretations of morality and the meaning of life, pubic hair should enter the conversation as a tool to dismantle those ideas.

After speaking with students about the way they relate to their pubic hair, many common themes of peer pressure, shame, and general disinterest are apparent.

One female student says, “I remember it being a huge deal when I shaved for the first time. I watched a thousand YouTube videos and googled FAQs. It felt like such a violent thing to do to a delicate part of my body, but I assumed it was a normal thing you do once you’re a teen.”

Another woman echoes the sentiment. “I shaved for the first time because I just thought that’s what you were supposed to do. All of the women I saw in porn were completely bald down there, so I assumed it was for a reason.”

Concerning pubic hair grooming as a consequence of sexual encounters, another student provides excellent insight into the evolution of her relationship to her pubic hair. “I used to feel that I had to shave for sexual partners so I did it out of habit for a long time. I still like to pull a full Brazilian, but I consciously know now that it’s just for me. I love getting into the covers with clean-shaven legs, and doing a little landscaping is just another way to be my most comfortable.”

Conversely, a different student offers that “I was so bad at shaving in high school, but by my sophomore year of college I started to see my pubes more as a sign of… wisdom. I no longer felt that hairless equals sexy. Hair was sexy. Being queer also offered a new perspective. When I was intimate with other women, I wasn’t bothered by the hair, so other people probably aren’t either.”

This sentiment is echoed by another student. “As we get older and encounter the right partners, we learn how little our pubes actually mean to other people, and how much they can signify for ourselves. Basically, no one cares.”

I implore you to consider your pubes not as shameful or inconvenient but to recognize the capacity for expression in them, or lack thereof. Fully shaven pubes can stand as a metaphorical rejection of age and the construction of time. Leaving pubes unshaved can be a rejection of the patriarchal and feminine beauty standards imposed as “normal.” Ignoring your pubic hair can stand for your refusal to spend any moment in your life concerned with matters of ego and physical form. Perhaps each month you landscape a little differently. Dye them, cut them, shave them, love them. The possibilities are boundless and the choice is always yours. YM

Serial Pleaser

WRITTEN BY MARIANNA POLETTI REYES ART BY AMY YANG

Have you ever found yourself constantly in a situation where you felt you didn’t belong because you couldn’t say “no” to someone? There’s always that one person most people have in their lives who is always dependable and won’t mind doing anything, despite how inconvenient it might be: the people-pleaser. People-pleasers are people who feel an emotional drive to satisfy the needs of others. Most of these individuals don’t even realize that they are people-pleasing, as some of the positive effects of it include self-confidence and respect and love from others. Although people-pleasing might not seem all that bad, it has its drawbacks because of how excessive it can get. Typically, people-pleasing stems from a lack of self-worth, previous maltreatment, or low self-esteem. By fulfilling the needs of others, peoplepleasers feel liked and accepted, which leads to (what feels like) a lower chance of losing those around them. People-pleasers feel responsible for the feelings of others, apologize often, and even feel burdened by the things they have to do. Psychologist Harriet Braiker says, “to please is a disease,” in her book Curing the People-Pleasing Syndrome—which in excess can become an addiction that is tough to beat. According to Braiker, the act of peoplepleasing is divided into three categories, all of which are difficult to manage and break: feelings, mindsets, and habits. Often, people-pleasing is part of a person’s personality, and according to Science of People, “people higher in agreeableness tend to be more prone to people-pleasing than other personality types.” Kindness is often confused with people-pleasing, since the primary goal in both situations is making sure everyone around you feels happy. Peoplepleasers will do whatever it takes to fulfill this goal. Some of these actions lead to feelings of exhaustion and being overworked because of an overdeveloped sense of personal responsibility after trying to take care of the needs of others. The most negative part of all of this is that a person who is overwhelmed and busy by taking care of others often neglects their own needs. According to Health Guidance For Better Health, “it is not healthy psychologically to be a people-pleaser as it means you are constantly suppressing your views and desires.” Suppressing your views and desires means that you must constantly push aside your own negative emotions, such as anger and sadness. People-pleasers bottle up these emotions and therefore fail to deal with them properly or healthily. Breaking the habit of being a people-pleaser is difficult. One of the first steps that one should take is building up the courage to say “no” to something small, and then continuing the process from there. Alternatively, try delaying the “no” with an “I’ll get back to you later.” Open up about how you’re feeling, even if it feels unimportant. Gaining confidence in oneself is the most important task in breaking the chain of pleasing others. YM

NO PANTS TO BED

WRITTEN BY MADELYN MULREANEY ART BY KARINA SANCHEZ

Last November, I stopped wearing pants, and it was amazing.

Technically, I stopped wearing pants to bed a few years ago, but last November was when I stopped caring about who saw me without pants. I started to lounge around my house (or my dorm room) wearing what I felt most comfortable in, and oftentimes that meant no pants. Previously, I had been careful not to get caught walking around in my underwear by my friends or family, because I felt weird about it or, more accurately, because I thought that other people would think it was weird. Now, I simply don’t care what they think.

If I’m lounging around in my dorm without pants on, I’m not about to put them on just because someone else walks in the room. It’s not as if my bare legs and cotton underwear are scandalizing anyone. The problem is that there are people who do think that the image of a woman’s bare leg is scandalous. As if a woman showing any amount of skin, even in the privacy of her own home, is inherently sexual.

This year, I’ve become especially interested in thinking critically about what it means to be a woman in America, and how women are constantly policed and scrutinized by patriarchal norms. This is in part because my current dorm room window faces a number of other dorm windows—most of which are occupied by men. I’ve suddenly found myself hyperaware of the presence of men in my personal space, even when my blinds are drawn. It’s caused me to analyze the influence that the male gaze has had on what I wear. Why do I have to feel self-conscious about walking around without pants on when that’s what I feel most comfortable in? How can I dress for myself when even my bedroom—my most private space—is invaded by the male gaze?

In her book Visual And Other Pleasures, feminist film critic Laura Mulvey describes the phenomenon of the male gaze as such, “In the traditional exhibitionist role women are simultaneously looked at and displayed, with their appearance coded for strong visual and erotic impact so that they can be said to connote to-be-looked-at-ness.” In other words, women are always subjected to male fantasies and desires. According to the male gaze, there is nothing more desirable than a woman who doesn’t know she looks sexy. The male fantasy lies in being able to view— and lust after—women in their “natural state,” sexy bedhead, a t-shirt that barely covers her ass, and lacy underwear.

Obviously, the reality is that when a woman doesn’t wear pants to bed, it’s not inherently sexy. When I’m on my period, bloated and riddled with cramps, the last thing I want is the waistband of a pair of pants pressing against my uterus; and yet, according to the male gaze, my lack of pants must be for men’s pleasure. Women can dress however they want, and they don’t need to explain themselves to anyone, nor should they need to suffer other people’s criticisms.

Society views women as sexual objects. A woman’s personal style and choices of comfort are not seen as her choices to make. Women are expected to abide by patriarchal rules, even in private, and if she doesn’t, then she is subjecting herself to the criticism of others. Other people feel entitled to police how a woman should dress and how her appearance could possibly be interpreted as sexual; however, these same people tend to be radio silent once it comes to policing men’s attire in the same way.

If a man were to run through the city shirtless, no one would even bat an eye, but if a woman were to mention that she sleeps without pants on, middleaged women everywhere would clutch their pearls. Women are permitted to wear bathing suits that reveal the same amount of—or more—skin as underwear, and it’s perfectly acceptable. But once a woman starts walking around in her underwear at home, people throw a fit.

Our culture relies on hyper-sexualizing women’s bodies to keep them under patriarchal control. That’s why there’s nothing more threatening than a woman who doesn’t dress for the male gaze—and that’s exactly what happens when women stop wearing pants in private. I’m not saying that if women stop wearing pants, the patriarchy will suddenly crumble, but sleeping without pants has helped me feel empowered, and it might make other women feel the same. YM

What do you mean, “missing?”

WRITTEN BY MARYCATHERINE NEAL

Corrine: a name I haven’t said in a few years, but a name that now sits in my brain every moment of every day. I saw her five days a week for 12 years in my small home-city, Hopewell, Virginia. But she’s been missing for over a month now.

Pictures and posts about her have been circulating through social media. It’s become a routine now to wake up and scroll through my photos to find the poster with her smiling face on it and the bold, red words “MISSING” “REWARD IF FOUND” to post on Instagram. Sometimes I look at the collage of photographs of her smiling face, her signature bun on top of her head, and her identifying tattoos and wonder what she’s up to—what she’s thinking about. She’s probably goofing off, as usual. She was always laughing or smiling. Or maybe she’s dancing around to music, like she used to in the hallway on the way to third period.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the sleepovers she used to throw. The silly games we used to play. The confessions and whispered secrets. The chicken biscuits her dad used to cook for us the morning after we all stayed up until 3 a.m. watching R-rated movies that we knew we weren’t supposed to. Back then, that was the biggest trouble we found ourselves in.

I’ve been thinking about how we used to pretend we were chefs who made gourmet grass and flower soup when we were three years old on the Wee School playground. Back then we only had to search for Corrine when we were playing our millionth game of hide-and-seek.

I’ve been thinking about how strong she was to tackle every day with such a love for life and laughter, despite all of the things she’d been through. I always envied Corrine’s fearlessness. I’ve been thinking about how she always knew how to cheer me up, even if I was heartbroken over another idiotic high school

ART BY MADELYN MULREANEY

boy or stressed about the political climate. But most of all, I’ve been thinking about the dreams and the future she always talked about. College. A spouse, maybe. A happy life. Will she make it there? Or is she really gone?

There have been lots of rumors about what happened to her. There have been so many that I have no idea what to believe anymore.

Some people think she was picked up by sex traffickers, since she was out early in the morning the last day she was seen. Other people think she got involved in something crime related, the kind she’d definitely tell us all about when she came back. She always did have the strangest, most dangerous stories to tell. Some people think she skipped town just for fun. I mean, let’s be honest, Corrine had a reputation as a hell-raiser who loved a good adventure.

I like to think she escaped to start a new life. That maybe Corrine wanted to put everything behind her and try again. I know it sounds silly, but it’s better than thinking she’s dead—the only explanation some people have for what happened to her. I try not to listen to any of them until I have proof, though. As far as I’m concerned, she’s living a new life in a new state with new goals, friends, and priorities. It selfishly helps me feel better.

People always say, “You never think it can happen to someone you know, until it does.” And I think that’s the worst part of all of this. Sure, Corrine was always getting in trouble, but she always had a way out. Where is it this time? What situation was she in that made her completely disappear off the face of the earth? What could have been done to prevent this from happening? Why isn’t there more being done? The Prince George Police Department says her case is their “number one priority” at the moment. Then why did it take five days for them to seriously consider

investigating her absence? Can we ever actually trust them to do what they’re supposed to do?

Selfishly, I have to ask, how do I deal with a missing friend? I’ve never been in this situation before. I’ve prayed for families to find their children, or grandparents, or aunts, but I’ve never had to personally ask God to find someone for me. My childhood friend. So far, my only answer is to numb myself to it all.

I’ve seen some of our classmates posting old videos of Corrine, begging for anyone to give information as to where she went. I’ve consoled a few of them myself, trying to assure them that their feelings of worry, fear, and anger are valid. I’ve wondered if my reaction has been too little. After all, I haven’t cried yet. I’m still not sure what to do or how to act. I have to admit, I feel guilty. I stop thinking about Corrine sometimes to preserve my own peace of mind. The first few days were just rough. I thought about her all the time, especially at night. My brain would do that thing where it brings up a million awful scenarios right as I’m about to fall asleep, then I had to think through every single one before I could finally relax fully. By then it was time to wake up.

And although it is completely irrational, a part of me wonders if I was home would Corrine still be around. Of course, the answer is no. I wasn’t even home the day she went missing. But a tiny part of me still thinks I’m to blame. (I know, I need therapy).

Forcing myself to believe Corrine is alive somewhere better is the only way I can get through my day, navigate a pandemic, write three ten-page final papers, and put meaningful energy into those still around me.

I wish I had answers, Corrine. We all do. I hope you’re safe somewhere, drinking flavored water and eating Goldfish crackers like we used to.

TV is my ultimate comfort, yet it’s also easy to be let down by it. In Emily Nussbaum’s book I Like to Watch: Arguing My Way through the TV Revolution, she says “the ideal viewer should behave less like a nagging critic and more like a soul mate, supportive and committed even when doubts creep in.” There are so many people putting these stories together, and I’ve got to trust that they know it better than I do. However, Nussbaum also says “If you build a show to be loved, heartbreak is always a risk.” For the viewer who invested their time and emotions into the story and characters, a disappointing finale sits with you like a breakup with no closure. YM

This piece was written in honor of Corrine’s infectious optimism and hope. Her body was found on November 12, 2020.

HOW TO BE THE IDEAL HEARTHROB

WRITTEN BY KATARINA MONODOR ART BY MARIANNA POLETTI REYES

On October 26th, my suitemates gathered around the computer. For three minutes and thirty seconds, we sat silently, fully engrossed in the brand new video for Harry Styles’ song “Golden.” The video features Harry, partially clothed, running towards the camera, traveling through Italy’s Amalfi Coast. As of November 1st, the video has racked up 31 million views.

I would consider myself a casual fan of Harry Styles. Since 2010, with the creation of One Direction, Harry has been on my radar. As I grew over the past ten years, I witnessed the transformation of Harry, from a band member, to solo artist, to style icon. Harry feels like a childhood friend. I listened to his albums, cried at his songs, marveled at his iconic outfits. It seems, even to a passive fan, that Harry is doing everything right—he is the ideal celebrity heartthrob.

Traditionally, “heartthrob” refers to someone who is admired for their attraction. But other than his appearance, what makes Harry so attractive? For me, it’s that Harry has created his brand around one idea, something so incredibly simple, you’d wonder why it even needs to be said at all: Treat People With Kindness (TPWK). He makes conscious efforts to support fans and promote compassion wherever possible.

Harry has gone out of his way to create personal interactions with his fans. In a recent post on Twitter, a fan shared that Harry stopped at her home when his car broke down. He left her a note saying he was sorry he missed her, and he had fed her pet fish. The note was even signed, “Treat People With Kindness. All My Love.” This small act of wholesome interest and gratitude towards a fan sparked more attention for the singer, as many began imagining what it would be like if Harry’s car broke down outside their homes.

Harry shares little of his personal life. His mysterious essence allows him to support many causes without seeming too politically involved. He has used his influence to voice his support for the Black Lives Matter movement, as well as to encourage American citizens to vote. Many admire this involvement and promotion of equality.

Remaining vague about his personal life serves another purpose. Harry shows he doesn’t need to define himself as one thing to promote his brand. By choosing not to address rumors about his sexuality, saying it doesn’t affect his work, Harry creates a model for fans who might be feeling pressure to identify themselves. This reinforces an inclusive culture for fans, encouraging them not to worry about what others think. When he waves pride flags at concerts, Harry is attempting to make people feel more comfortable and show they aren’t alone. Harry preaches being true to yourself and doing what makes you happy.

According to my roommate, Harry is ideal simply because he “respects women.” In the music video for his song “Watermelon Sugar,” Harry is surrounded by female models who laze and eat watermelon. In the unexpectedly sensual video, there is a lot of touching and embracing between Harry and the women. While this video might seem a little awkward for some, according to the models, Harry would often ask if they felt comfortable. They deemed him “Consent King,” which seems like the bare minimum, but is unfortunately often overlooked.

Harry, a self-labeled feminist, receives a lot of praise for rejecting traditional, often toxic, masculine traits. One way he does this is through his clothing, wearing outfits that might typically be considered feminine. Harry has even explained that the “moment you feel more comfortable with yourself, it all becomes a lot easier.” His bravery in fashion has made him a cultural trendsetter. During quarantine, many fans learned how to crochet, attempting to recreate a colorful patchwork sweater Harry has worn. Harry conveys his self-acceptance through his clothing, visually inspiring others to be brave in their own expression.

Even as a casual fan, I can’t help but have a crush on Harry Styles, even if just in the platonic sense. His brand of wholesomeness and TPWK is such an overwhelming part of his identity, it seems illogical to not like him. It’s hard to find fault in someone who preaches and practices positivity and self-acceptance. Harry seems to unrelentingly promote confidence until it is within everyone’s reach. At the end of the “Golden” music video, Harry finally stops running. He sees you and no longer feels the need to hurry. He is satisfied with what he has found, and maybe we all should be too. YM

Legend Says: The Complex Composition of Folktales

WRITTEN BY GEORGIA HOWE ART BY RICKI KALAYCI

Since the dawn of time, humans have always told stories. From images recorded on cave walls, to radio broadcasts, to the novels sold in bookstores today, our species is one of storytellers. Before the printing press allowed us to produce millions of copies of written works, we often passed down stories orally. Each culture has their own set of legends that have been shared with each new generation to escape the abyss of time. Nearly everyone can think of a “local legend” that has been passed down through their family or community. These myths and stories that are based in specific cultural areas are known as folktales. Many regions have folktales that tell the story of a creature, venue, or suspersition that has lived on for decades, or even centuries. Shared around campfires or whispered as bedtime stories, folktales are a significant part of every culture and possess the unique ability to transcend the abyss of time.

The folktale that has always been shared in my family, often when camping in my home state of Maine, is called Tailypo. The story is about an old man who lives in a cabin deep in the mountains with his hounds. During a hungry season, he chops the tail off of an unfamiliar animal and eats it. Each night, the creature returns, scratching at the man’s bed posts and killing off his dogs, demanding that he gives back its “tailypo.” The creature eventually devours the man and proclaims “now I’ve got my tailypo”.

While my father, who always told the folktale, may have shared it just to give us a scare, there’s some more substance behind it. A quick search of the origins of Tailypo taught me that the story is from the entirety of Appalachia, not just Maine, and there’s multiple variations of the plot throughout the east coast. As a folktale that has been spread throughout an entire region of North America, there’s bound to be something culturally significant about it. Other forms of Tailypo talk about humans mistakenly taking bones or even toes from the woods, only to be killed by a monster to whom they belonged. This theme of being punished when taking from woodland beasts suggests a deeper lesson that the tale is trying to pass on through the generations. Because Appalachia is so densely wooded and unexplored, it makes sense that this story warns its listeners not to take things from nature that are unrecognizable, for the sake of their survival.

Mary Grace Purser, an Emerson freshman from Georgia, recalls a folktale so influential in her life that it affects the actions of her and her family. Lake Lanier, a large reservoir in northern Georgia, is believed to be haunted. This is because, Purser explains, in the 1950s when the lake was created for the purpose of flood control, the government flooded towns, leaving them completely submerged when the lake was fully finished. Since then, Lake Lanier has been a hotspot for a mysteriously large number of accidents and deaths. Purser says that she never goes to the allegedly haunted lake, especially because of her mother’s own experiences there when “she felt like she was being dragged under […] by hands.”

Despite trepidation surrounding the lake, Purser says that a lot of people feel that “it’s rightfully haunted” because of the “historically black towns” that were chosen to be evacuated and flooded for the creation of the body of water. Since its construction happened when Jim Crow Laws were still in place, it’s unlikely that the location was chosen randomly. “The Deep South is a very superstitious place… a lot of the people there are more willing to believe in what most people wouldn’t” says Purser. The stories of strange happenings at Lake Lanier seem more complex when we acknowledge the racial tensions that underscore the history of its making. Beneath the chilling deaths, the folktale of Lake Lanier carries a warning to prevent others from erasing communities due to racial biases, lest you be dragged under the water by the wronged spirits who lurk beneath.

Sophomore Emerson student Youran Cai, who is from Shanghai, China, recalls a tale that is popular in Chinese mythology. The story is about an herbalist whose wife was able to make a cure for a plague. The couple rejoiced, until a monk told the husband that his wife was a disguised demon, and if he fed her a potion, the wife would reveal her true form. When the husband gave his wife the potion, she transformed into her true form of a giant snake, and the shock killed him. The wife, who loved her husband dearly, tried to steal a life-giving herb, but was caught. When she explained her reasoning for stealing was the love she had for her husband, she was allowed to take it, and she successfully revived her husband.

This story reflects what Cai identifies as major themes in chinese mythology: karma and honesty. “Honesty is a big virtue in Chinese culture,” Cai says. Stories like that of the herbalist drive home the karmic importance of truthfulness that China holds as a cultural value. Cai adds that that folktale is “kind of like a fantasy about how heterosexual couples will be happy in the end, because we’re a very hegemonious society.” The story enforces the traditional image of a happy husband and wife that they want their community to replicate.

All folktales, no matter what region of the country or world they may originate in, pass down a moral standard or way of behaving that societies want their people to adhere to. A creature from the woods, a haunted lake, and a serpent wife all work as reminders in the form of stories. Cai says “we learned about a lot of folklore in school.” The teaching of these tales to new generations signifies the importance of passing on a societal value. So next time you hear a folk tale being shared, think about what customs and values lie beneath the story. YM

The media has the ultimate power to dramatically shape and influence public opinion. In its portrayal of eating disorders, pop culture has undoubtedly failed to deliver an accurate, full-pictured representation to its audience.

Since singer Karen Carpenter’s death from anorexia nervosa in the early 1980s, as well as actress Tracy Gold’s and Princess Diana’s public struggle with anorexia and bulimia in the late 80s and early 90s, film and television writers have clung to the same story when depicting characters who are suffering from an eating disorder. These narratives invariably feature a young, (often teenaged) white, attractive, gaunt woman, starving herself for perfection. This consistency of this depiction, perpetuates a false narrative that glamorizes and contributes to the myths and misconceptions about a serious, life-threatening disease.

Anorexia is often characterized by an obsession with complete control and willpower. And as someone who has battled anorexia nearly all my life, I can tell you that this is true. However, the problem lies in people idealizing, even envying these traits as a means to achieve the “ideal body”. In 2014, Singer Meghan Trainer was quoted saying, “I wasn’t strong enough to have an eating disorder. I tried to go anorexic for a good three hours. I ate ice and celery, but that’s not even anorexic. And I quit. I was like, ‘Ma, can you make me a sandwich? Like, immediately.’” I can’t tell you how many times I stood in my kitchen and sobbed because all I wanted to do was eat. Not to mention, how many times I did in fact eat sandwiches. People, such as Meghan, fail to recognize the immense hardships and complexities involved in the disease.

On screen, eating disorders hardly get their fair share of attention. But when they do, the characters have consistently been white women. This pattern has been seen time and time again in films and TV such as Girl Interrupted, Beverly Hills 90210, Full House, Glee, American Horror Story, Pretty Little Liars, Skins, and Feed. It wasn’t until Netflix’s, To the Bone, starring Lily Collins, that we actually saw other identities with eating disorders represented on screen. In the film, Collins plays Ellen, a twenty-year-old woman battling severe anorexia. As the movie progresses, we are introduced to a young man named Luke (Alex Sharp), a dancer trying to recover from anorexia. Likewise, we see brief glimpses of a plus-sized black woman suffering from binge eating disorder and one patient with bulimia.

While the film does address the fact that eating disorders can affect anyone, it doesn’t exactly do justice for men and black women living with these illnesses, as it made little to no effort to develop any of these characters. Likewise, these secondary characters were utilized in the film to create comedic relief from the dramatic tension. This is not an uncommon occurrence, as writer and director Ryan Murphy is known to use bulimia as the punchline to a joke throughout his many seasons of American Horror Story.

Surpassed only by opioid addiction, eating disorders have the second highest mortality rate of all mental health disorders. Eating disorders are classified as serious psychological conditions, characterized by underlying triggers most often associated with trauma, depression, anxiety, low self-worth, self-harm, and substance abuse. It is imperative for the general population to understand that any single individual can be affected by any type of eating disorder in their lifetime, no matter their gender, race, age or body type. National surveys estimate that 20 million women and 10 million men in America will develop an eating disorder at some point in their lives. In trivializing and romanticizing eating disorders, the media has disguised the fact that living with such a complex mental illness is messy, burdensome, and at times, devastating.

The media has done us all a grave disservice. In its narrow-minded attempt in creating space for people with mental illness to discuss their struggles, it has subsequently promoted sexism, racism, and gender bias, as it continues to discriminate against and leave out others from the conversation. More inclusive portrayals of eating disorders on screen will help create an environment where people off-screen feel comfortable enough to share their own experiences, making vital progress in conquering the stigma and shame that prevents too many from obtaining the help and treatment that they need. YM

THE MEDIA AND EATING DISORDERS

WRITTEN BY JESSICA ROSS ART BY REBEKAH CZUKOSKI

Phoebe F*cking Bridgers

WRITTEN BY ILEANA PEREZ PHOTOGRAPHED BY EMILY KING

The summer before my sophomore year of college, having just turned 19, I listened to Phoebe Bridgers for the first time. I wish I could say I’ve been a fan since the beginning of her career, but I haven’t. I discovered her late, and the first song I listened to wasn’t even any of her solo music. It was a song off of her EP with Julien Baker and Lucy Dacus titled boygenius. I was riding in my car with the windows rolled down, hot and thick Texas humidity around me, when I heard Bridgers and Dacus sing, “when you cut a hole into my skull / do you hate what you see? / like I do.” For the entire car ride home, I played the song over and over again, never letting the song finish before I restarted it. On each listen, I waited for the line to come: Do you hate what you see, like I do?

Those words stuck with me, and I became obsessed. I started playing “Souvenir” on every walk I took, I played it before I fell asleep, I put it on every playlist imaginable. Then I listened to Stranger in the Alps, and then the rest of boygenius. I couldn’t stop. Quickly, Bridgers became my top artist even though it had just been a few months.

I can’t quite remember when Bridgers rose in popularity. All I know is that, suddenly, she was everywhere. Her songs were on every pre-made sad indie playlist, just waiting to become someone else’s new obsession. Her Twitter, @phoebe_bridgers, flooded my timeline with viral tweets, and I couldn’t stop talking about her. Maybe it was her unique melodies that drew me to her, the devastatingly beautiful lyrics, or both. But, she did something to me. I had become a punisher, someone who could not and would not shut up about a certain blonde who always wore a skeleton onesie.

Throughout her career as an artist, Bridgers has developed a fanbase of people like me. We cling onto her words and experiences, but only because they mirror our own. Her witty personality and ability to not take herself too seriously makes her approachable. Coupling that with her clever lyrics and raw honesty, we get a unique artist in a genre that is oftentimes oversaturated.

“I feel like as a lyricist, she’s really honest with herself and I think that allows for her music to hit me harder than other artists,” says Acting BFA major Olivia Wolff ‘22. “One of my favorite songs is “Kyoto.” It has a really fun, upbeat orchestration but it’s about her really sad relationship with her father. I just love how she’s able to find the joy in the sadness and the sadness in the joy. She writes from a really raw place and has a lot of similar experiences and thinks about life in the same way I do, and I think that’s why I really connected to her.”

On the title track of her latest album, Punisher, which she released this summer, Bridgers writes about the complicated relationship between an artist and a fan. She shows how an all-consuming fixation masked by admiration can become toxic and still be written off as love. I listened to this song in my childhood bedroom after months of deep isolation and extreme loneliness. I heard her sing, “What if I told you / I feel like I know you / but we’ve never met? / It’s for the best.” These lyrics, theorized to be about Elliott Smith, resonated with me. I too felt like I knew her, even if she didn’t know me. Am I the type of person she’s talking about, I’d often ask myself. Do I take it too far? Realistically, I know my love for her isn’t toxic but it’s new. I’ve never had this kind of relationship with an artist before—one that is seemingly unimportant to her, yet so incredibly necessary to me.

On my 20th birthday, almost a year after I listened to Bridgers for the first time, I bought Punisher on vinyl, even though I don’t own a record player or plan on owning one anytime soon. However, I realized I needed a physical representation of it. I needed to be able to hold it in my hands and put it on display for everyone to see. Because this album, and Phoebe Bridgers herself, had become so much more than a top artist on my Spotify profile. She is and forever will be, a source of joy, heartache, comfort, and pure catharsis in my life. YM