Sometimes I really wonder how men don’t hear themselves. Th…

Sometimes I really wonder how men don’t hear themselves. They’ll spend hours mocking women’s bodies making fun of women who are overweight, calling skinny women “built like a boy,” shaming anyone who doesn’t fit their perfect little idea of what a “feminine body” should look like.

Then they turn around and throw full tantrums the moment a woman says she prefers taller men. The hypocrisy is wild.

Growing up, I can’t even count the number of times guys would make comments about my chest or my body. I was told I looked like a boy, that I wasn’t curvy enough, that I wasn’t “womanly.” They laughed, called it teasing, and I’d laugh too, just to survive the moment. But deep down, it stung. It made me feel like I wasn’t allowed to just exist in my own skin without being compared or criticized.

And it’s not just me. I’ve talked to so many women who’ve gone through the same thing constantly being made to feel like our worth is measured in how much we fit into someone’s fantasy. If we don’t, we’re fair game for mockery. But the moment a woman says something as mild as “I prefer taller guys,” suddenly it’s an outrage. Suddenly we’re shallow, judgmental, or “not giving nice guys a chance.”

It’s like some men have never realized that women live under the constant microscope of other people’s opinions, while they crumble at the slightest hint of rejection. They want the freedom to ridicule women’s bodies but expect total acceptance of their own insecurities.

I’m tired of pretending it doesn’t bother me. I’m tired of laughing it off. The truth is, the double standard hurts. It chips away at confidence, especially when you’re younger and still figuring out who you are.

The irony is that most women don’t even care as much as they think we do. We just want kindness, respect, a sense of safety not perfection. But it’s hard to keep believing that when the loudest voices around you are the ones turning your body into a punchline.

At some point, you learn to stop chasing validation from people who can’t even see past their own egos. You start realizing that your body doesn’t need to prove anything — not its curves, not its softness, not its height, not its shape. It just needs to belong to you.

And honestly, that’s enough.

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