When I was about thirteen I received some perfume from Victoria’s Secret. It was called dream angel. Of course I expected, with such a name, that it would smell like roses or vanilla, or some heavenly scent I had never encountered before.

It smelled like fingernail polish remover. I probably left it in the front of my counter to be the cool teenager I was trying to be, but I could never stomach it enough to wear it.

About eight years later I was sitting in front of my computer. It was a night in the Fall and my Facebook newsfeed was blowing up, as it tends to do, when there is some important sporting event or national crisis or holiday taking place. But the guys and girls weren’t posting about their favorite team or what they were eating for Thanksgiving. For guys, the statuses went something like this:

Dude…

And the girls, like this:

…Never looking in the mirror again.

My Facebook friends were watching the Annual Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show.

I’ve only seen a snippet of it, but the part I saw included an interview with one of the “angels” (what they call the lingerie models.) She spoke about dreams and following them and how any girl can be whatever she wants to be if she just believes, etc. and generally, this seemed to be a large part of the feel of the show. Building self-confidence. Empowering women. And while it may empower the models in some ways, we can’t help but notice that it does quite the opposite to most of the female viewers. Again, you need only look at the Facebook statuses. Most girls and women I know who see a Victoria’s Secret model think not, oh that’s so empowering, I feel better about myself, but instead, oh wow, I’m so ugly. She’s so hot. How can I ever look like her?

This is a pretty widely accepted fact, and I hope it is not news to anyone. It is how Victoria’s Secret sells. They make us want to look like their models and then they show us exactly how (although they sell us a little short without providing airbrushing or computer touch-ups or gene manipulations.) But by the end of it, we rarely feel much better about ourselves. Many humanitarians give answers to this problem. Often the answers involve some sort of reason for why the models aren’t really that great so that we can feel better about ourselves. These answers usually go something like this:

Those Victoria’s Secret models are too skinny. They are unhealthy. Real women have curves.

Or:

Those are TOTALLY fake.

Or:

You know, what, no one looks like that in real life. So who cares? There’s no point in envying, because it’s not real.

Or:

Well, they might be hot, but they’re dumb. It’s much more important to be smart.

While these statements may be well intentioned they usually don’t help much. Too often, the women who say them (or who listen eagerly to them) continue to buy push-up bras, continue to cake on makeup, and/or continue over dieting. These answers avoid the problem and by pointing fingers and making more judgments they promote more envy and insecurity among us and egg on the inner battle.

Some will answer the problem with the classic “every girl is beautiful” concept. Dove does this in many of their ads by taking “regular women” (makeup-less, different shapes and sizes) and having them model in underwear. But while many of us may feel comparatively better about ourselves because of this type of campaign, it doesn’t seem to be enough. We want to know why we’re beautiful. Deep down we all fear that one day we won’t be as pretty, or perhaps that we aren’t pretty, and then, well, it doesn’t matter how “beautiful” “every girl” may be—we don’t feel it and nobody treats us like we are. And we want to know we are beautiful even while standing next to a Victoria’s Secret model.

I am going to suggest that the answer to this problem lies in our recognition of the fact that we are sacred. There was a time when this was commonly accepted. There was a time when a man would kneel down and kiss every woman’s hand because she was a woman. But by the fault of both men and women we have created a culture in which women are either treated as men or as sex objects. Rarely something in between, and too often they are treated as both. Many women don’t like the idea of being labeled because of their womanhood. But the truth is, this labeling is the only way our daughters and sisters and mothers and friends—ourselves—will ever truly feel beautiful. We need to bring back the age-old concept of the woman as sacred. In Part Two, I will address how we go about doing this.

So what is holistic health, and how can women on all sides of the issue come to practice it?

Holistic health is not just eating organically or not eating organically. For if holistic health only accounts for the food we put into our bodies, it is not truly holistic. To be holistic, we must view the human being as a whole—not as many parts. We must see all of that whole—mind, body, soul—as valuable, and perhaps even sacred. Holistic health takes into account consequences to any part of the self or to those outside of the self. It only allows for harm if harm is an unintended consequence of a good action. It never allows for harm for the sake of some good outcome.

To treat the body holistically is to constantly pursue that which is good for the human being with regard for that human being’s total self. If we are splitting the self into parts—seeking the good for only the body, only the mind, or only the soul—then we are not fulfilling the duty we have to our loved ones and to ourselves.

And so I challenge those who fall into the category of the stereotypical holistic health promoters: be more holistic. To those mothers concerned with their children’s fruit and vegetable intake versus their sugar intake—be concerned also with their good intake versus their evil intake and admit that such a distinction exists just as clearly, if not more. For I can guarantee you, from a holistic health perspective, the evil will actually cause more harm than the sugar. To those women (and men) who avidly practice yoga and meditation to bring balance to their bodies and spirits: learn and master the practice of virtue to bring balance to everything. Although I’m pretty sure yoga is helpful, I know with full certainty that virtue is.

The other day I was talking with my friend on the phone about green smoothies. We were sharing tips and various health advice and after getting off the phone with her I thought about how nice it is that we can encourage and even challenge each other in our pursuit of bodily health. But then I immediately thought of how much luckier I am for the conversations I’ve had with her and other friends about our pursuits of moral health. Because this type of conversation is all too rare.  In fact, such conversations among friends have become fairly taboo. We figure that moral decisions should be completely up to the individual and that we shouldn’t meddle. And yet, we find it entirely appropriate to meddle in peoples’ health decisions. Most mothers haven’t stopped taking their kids to the doctor. But many mothers have stopped taking their kids to church. Most girlfriends work out together and give each other tips on staying in shape, but most girlfriends don’t give each other substantial tips about how to stay married or how to find deep fulfillment in life. Something seems to be terribly out of balance! (And anything out of balance should not be allowed within the ideology of holistic health.)

And on the other side of the spectrum—those who see the hypocrisy of the stereotypical natural health gurus and therefore completely dismiss such ideologies—I challenge you as well to be truly holistic in your thinking. I speak to the moms who do mind what comes out of their kids’ mouths… but don’t mind so much about what goes into them. Or those who take their children to church, but don’t take their children to see different doctors when maybe the mainstream one isn’t taking into consideration the child’s whole body perspective. To this group (and I used to be part of it)—you know the body is a temple. And that’s not just a quote to encourage fifteen-year- old girls to be modest. It means that God gave you something very precious to take care of and it is your solemn duty to do so. Do whatever research, get whatever second opinions you need—find out how it is best to take care of that temple and do it well. Be open minded because we don’t fully understand the body yet and there are always new ideas coming out about how we can better take care of it. Don’t be stubborn and lazy. Don’t snicker at the juice-drinking, bra-less yoga teacher when she stands on her head. She may have a virtue that you don’t have. Sure, you may have some she doesn’t have. But both the body and soul are important, and as one who understands the soul you should know well the duty you have to your body.

Unfortunately, I cannot find the speaker of this quote, nor the quote in its correct form. But I once read a quote on a tea bag said by an Asian philosopher and it went something like this: Your body is the only house your soul will ever have. If you destroy your body, where will you go? I think it makes a good point to those who like to think they can eat, drink, and exercise or not exercise however they like as long as they go to church on Sunday. Conversely, I know of a Jewish philosopher who once said: What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? I also think that this quote makes a wonderful point to those who like to think they can act however they feel according to their changing and relative morality, as long as they attend their yoga classes, drink their juice, and recycle their plastics.

Being holistic isn’t easy. I’m always finding glitches in my program and gaps in my life where I’m not reaching the good for my whole self. Being holistic can be frustrating, and sometimes it may not seem worth it. I’m sitting here typing and my back and legs hurt from the fibromyalgia pain I can’t seem to cure. My head also hurts because I haven’t developed the discipline to go to bed earlier and get the sleep I need. And my soul? What about the courage and patience I wish I had more of? Sometimes I wonder if any of it is progressing at all. But I am ever reminded that holistic health is not a result, but instead, a way of life. Holistic health won’t always “cure” everything. In fact, it may not seem to “cure” anything—and that is in no way our fault. As soon as we worry about the specific results, we become compartmentalized in our thinking and miss the point. And what is that point? That we do the best we can. Because in the end holistic health is about love. About sacrificially loving everyone and everything who has been entrusted to us completely and entirely. And that love has the potential to lift the human person above and beyond the sickness, (even if the sickness remains). The attitude of holistic health won’t always cure, but it will bring about true peace for the whole self, even when the parts may be disjointed, stubborn, or falling apart. It is an attitude that actually sees beyond death—and into a time when everything will be made whole again.

So let us, for the sake of ourselves and all who depend on us, think and act holistically.

About eight years ago my mom tried acupuncture – and it changed my life.

At first, I protested, NOOOO YOU CAN’T!! THAT’S NEW AGE! But one of her doctors had highly recommended acupuncture and pointed to some science to back it up. My mom wasn’t selling her soul to anything, and it was worth trying if it could help her feel better.  But I remained as skeptical of acupuncture as I was about all the environmental/health issues which we often associate with liberalism, new age-ism, and/or radical feminism.

Now, just a few years later, I am a pescatarian, gluten-free eater, acupuncture client, whole foods-shopper, seasonal eater, backyard garden grower, almost completely raw diet eater, herb user, and in the process, have almost cured my Crohn’s disease and many other bodily ailments.  Perhaps more important than any of these cures is the realization I came to during these past years.

I already knew that women tend to be the ones most concerned with our health. (Yes, sometimes it’s the men who are the health conscience ones in the family—but not usually.) We are the mothers, the wives, the sisters; the ones who make sure we eat our greens and brush our teeth and go for our yearly physicals. As my fiancé remarked the other day, “I see now why men get so unhealthy when they’re single… I can’t wait till we’re married and you’ll make me eat healthy.” And it’s true. My fiancé completely supports my pursuit of holistic health, but on many occasions, when left to his own devices, his meal may consist of string cheese and gummy worms.

My realization instead was this:  Holistic health has been associated with the wrong group of women. It is actually not in line with the manifestos of those who preach relativism, new age religion, or those who demand birth control insured by their employer.

In fact, if you use birth control to control birth, you are not thinking about health in a holistic way. You are thinking about health in a compartmentalized and short-term way. To take the morning after pill, to preach that abortion, premarital sex, euthanasia, in vitro fertilization, and the like are relative issues, and then to insist that parabens in shampoo are bad for you or that it is best to eat locally is very contradictory.

Conversly, while there is hypocrisy among the stereotypical holistic health promoters, there is hypocrisy also among those on the other side. There are those Catholics, Christians, conservatives, etc who have no interest in or may be close minded toward the holistic health movement or health in general. As I will later address, these are the people who, according to their doctrine, ought to be most in favor of holistic health.

As women, we are born nurturers. It is a biological fact. And for the rest of our lives, people, including ourselves, will depend on us and come to us for care and healing—whether it be our children, our husbands, our boyfriends, our friends, our mothers, our fathers. Thus it is our responsibility to open our minds, whichever side we are already on, and consider what is best for the total well being of those we love.

To be continued in my next post.

For the past three and a half years I spent at the University of Georgia I came home almost every weekend. I moved back home after graduation, started working at the high school I attended which is five minutes away, and my fiancé and I will be living on the same street as my family when we get married in May. We will also be visiting his family, an hour away, as much as we can.

There are many people who would consider us crazy for our decisions. Staying close to home is definitely not the norm among “college-educated” young adults (neither is getting married at twenty-one.)

It is true that there are unhealthy ways to stay at or close to home, especially when such a decision is based out of fear or laziness. Sometimes staying close to home restricts the exercise of one’s own talents and purpose in life. Many must leave home to find this purpose. Some must leave home because of dangerous or detrimental situations. Many value being close to family, but don’t have that luxury, or have other priorities that justifiably outweigh being close to home.

But aside from these specific situations, in our culture there is a fundamental belief that staying close to home is inherently immature and detrimental. And they can’t understand why, if not out of an unhealthy attachment, one would choose to do so.

But the reason is simple—love—and that should be obvious. But it’s not anymore. Because nowadays many people think of home in a very different way. More importantly, they think of love in a very different way. They want love to be simple and easy. They don’t want the entanglements of longterm commitment because commitment is difficult. So they choose not to make such longterm commitments. The problem is, love requires commitment and so love is necessarily difficult. And we don’t like things that are difficult.

What we often forget is that it is the difficult things that usually bring about the most joy. It is commitment through even the hard times that bring about the fruits of true love. And this commitment is so worth it. It is the only truly worth it thing in the world.

And while we may know this, we fear it. Women especially have a tendency to believe that commitment is the end of something, a kind of death. There are so many negative connotations associated with being a stay at home mom or getting– rather, staying married. And of course there are such connotations because the truth is, well, commitment does require death. It is the death of selfishness. And it is often a slow and laborious death.  Usually the little vermin continues to revitalize himself throughout the course of our lives. But the smaller and smaller he gets– the more we submit to such a death– the more room is opened up inside of us. And then– what would be seen as a restriction of freedom becomes the gateway to a lifted and joyful soul, truly free and full of life.

We need not fear home. Perhaps it is not four walls we are avoiding– perhaps those four walls or family members don’t even exist or don’t even want us there– but even if we may feel homeless, somewhere, someone is asking for our commitment, asking for our love, asking for us to come home. Coming home does not necessarily demand that we “settle down” in a particular town or house. Neither does it necessarily mean we must “settle down” with a particular person or group of people. Each of us knows deep down the path home. We know what we run from that pulls at our heartstrings and we know whose voice we drown out with each heavy stomp of our frightened feet. As J.R.R. Tolkien says, “not all who wander are lost.” How true this is. Many of us must wander to find our home. But let us not wander so much that we wander aimlessly. For if we do this for too long, no matter how many parties we may attend, no matter how many Facebook friends we may have or how many dates we go on or how ever many places we may travel– we will end up very lonely. And we were not made to be lonely. We were made for Home. And home can be a lovely place, and it can be full of adventure– even if that adventure is only to the mailbox and back.

Marcel Proust said, “If only for the sake of elegance, I try to remain morally pure.”

Those who abide by this creed find its worst offender in Kim Kardashian. (For those of you who haven’t heard, the promiscuous reality TV star married in August 2011 and was divorced just a short seventy-two days later—an incident which resulted in heavy criticism and ridicule.)

The ridicule usually goes something like this:

Kim Kardashian is so stupid.
Do you KNOW how much her ring cost?
That thing was doomed from the start.
It was all for the money.
Wow. Like anyone actually took that “marriage” seriously.
Ha! You know they’re trying to get an annulment. An annulment!

And it goes on.

The responses amaze me. Usually, when we hear of divorce, we pity the couple. And yet, when Kim’s story hit People magazine we did not leave room for any pity.

Many women will respond that she doesn’t deserve pity because she “knew what she was getting herself into” (do we know this?) But many will go further than denying pity. They go on directly to despising her. There is a cruel cattiness in the mindless chatter in the grocery store checkout line. And that that cruelty originates from a profound insecurity within us.

We despise Kim Kardashian because we can’t deal with the things we despise about ourselves. Deep down we know well our ignorance, our lust, our selfishness, our vanity, our pride—but we can tend to spend much of our lives trying to hide it, avoid it, or project it on to others. Kim is too clumsy and too sloppy to hide anything. She gets divorced, and it doesn’t matter if half the country is also divorced—she just doesn’t have the right timing. It doesn’t matter if the rest of the world sleeps around. Kim sleeps around just a little bit too much. It doesn’t matter if more than half of the women in the world have forgotten the concept of modesty, Kim’s shirt is just a tad bit lower and she is labeled trash. Kim lacks one of our female culture’s favorite false virtues—the ability to keep up appearances. Kim doesn’t play the game right. And so she is easily made the scapegoat. Her story riles us not because it represents the degradation of marriage—we already know about the degradation of marriage. Her story riles us because it gives us an opportunity to forget the ways in which we have failed—because her failure is so outright and obvious.

This attitude is something we women struggle with a lot. We tend to despise the “slut.” And we tend to get a sinister sort of pleasure out of that. It is ironic. For we are in the age of relativism when any sort of moral opinion is often seen as judgmental by its very nature. But often the same women who don’t ever want to be “judged” or have their moral lives challenged are those who rant about the town/school/community “slut.”

And we rant because it gives us power. Gossip, slander, all of that gives us a sense of power. If we can put down the one who is easy to put down, we feel ourselves momentarily elevated. For if I can let everyone know about how awful she is, perhaps then I won’t feel so bad about myself.

But we know that the power is fleeting. We know that Mr. Proust’s quote is quite empty. For elegance, while appealing, is only an outer garment. If there’s anything that Kim’s story should do for us, it should make us examine what is beneath that outer garment. It should make us examine our own moral purity. Rather than despise her we should wish her well and pray for her. For we do not know what Mary Magdalene we throw stones at with our words. And although we may have hid it well with our class, we often forget the many times when we were that Mary and someone reached out a loving hand.

My first exposure to twisted sexuality was at a baseball game when I was about three. Skilled at making scenes, I stood up, pointed at a billboard in the distance, and loudly demanded, “WHAT’S A HOOTER?” The crowd around us went silent and awaited my father’s answer. He paused and, then, explained that a hooter was an owl. The crowd was endeared to us and laughed.

And so my journey began.

At a very young age, I wanted to understand why a girl in my kindergarten class didn’t have a father, why so many only saw their fathers on weekends, why movies were rated R and why nobody in the third grade really could explain what sex was, but everyone wanted to know. As I grew, I connected much of the unbalanced and confused culture I saw around me to our misconceptions of sexuality—our misconceptions of what it means to be a woman or a man—of what it means to be a human being.

I am Elizabeth Hanna. I am twenty-one years old, about to graduate from the University of Georgia in December and getting married in May to the best person I know. I have wonderful parents, a wonderful family, and the coolest three-legged dog named Wolfgang. I love to write, I love music and art, I love animals and nature, and I love Christmas. I can’t wait to grow up and grow old with my new husband, to start a family, and to explore this beautiful world with him.

I look forward to writing for New Feminism and I look forward to learning from the other women on this site. I am young, I am idealistic, and perhaps sometimes a bit too eager. But I hope to share some of my understanding and experience as a young woman in today’s culture, that in turn we may work together to address our uniquely feminine needs, and the needs of the world around us. And I hope to learn more about what it means to be a human being as I grow up and into the lovely castle of womanhood.

I grew up in what one would call the post-sexual revolution age. But I would say I grew up in the second sexual revolution. The rebellion of the first remained largely within its own culture subset. Outside of rock and roll and beyond the university campuses, there still existed a greater majority that held their ground and condemned the whole phenomenon.

In this second sexual revolution, the children of the first have grown up and raised children of their own. My peers and I grew up in a world where the majority and even the authority rarely had substantial and sincere standards of what was to be done with this enormous elephant standing in the room of life. The first sexual revolution prompted us to question our cultural norms regarding gender and sexuality (the questioning being a healthy enterprise in and of itself.) But we now merely have new norms—norms that are very hard to resist, and very hard to stand up against—and norms that are most clearly destructive. The new standard indeed, is that there is no standard. Your sexuality, your gender, is whatever you want it to be, whatever you feel like, whenever you want.

So many of my peers grew up to throw away what they held dear, acting as they were taught by music videos and their parents’ implications, and wondering what in the world to do with their deep aching and longing for true companionship, true identity, and true love. Too many children were never taught the value of self-discipline and sacrifice with regard to their sexuality. And if they were, they were never really taught why such restraint was worth it.

And the worst part of it all, the part that distinguishes us most from generations past, is that before, parents and grandparents, preachers and teachers—they still stood for an uncompromisable morality, and they held the younger people accountable. But now, too many of my peers are afraid to go against our cultural norms because even their own parents would laugh at them. This cycle needs to be addressed and it needs to be reversed. We need to clearly establish for the next generations what it means to be a woman, what it means to be a man, and it what it means to be a human being. Because people want to know.

We need another revolution.