I am normally no feminist, but recent ads for the upcoming reality show “More to Love” have really gotten me hot and bothered. This Bachelor-esque competition strives to separate itself from the pack by proclaiming that its contestants are “real women.” But as far as I can tell from the commercials, the only criteria for being “ real” is that while “the average reality show contestant is a size 0 or 2, the average woman is a 12/14.” This statement is followed up by shots of three different women crying, talking about how they are judged because of their size, and lamenting that they just want their own “happy ending.”

I have to assume that the producers of this show are trying to appeal to more female viewers and appear sensitive to women’s issues – especially after the last season of the Bachelor ended with such a scandal. But is this depiction of women really supposed to be empowering? Is it supposed to show that “average-sized” ladies are just as desirable as super-skinny ones? That they are just as deserving of love? Give me a break. The clips they show of these women are probably edited in such a way as to make them seem far more desperate and sad than they actually are, and therefore pretty much impossible to find the premise for this show anything other than insulting. We are not all sitting at home crying and imagining we will be alone forever unless Prince Charming comes to rescue us. We do not all obsessively stare into the mirror hating our stomachs, or thighs, or whatever, and believe that if only we could lose 20 pounds, our lives would become perfect. And furthermore, we do not all believe that all men like the pin-tin type. Some of us even know that cellulite on the back of our legs is the last thing a man will ever notice.

I will never forget a friend of mine in high school. Sherry was not only quite overweight, but had terrible skin. She would regularly mention guys she was dating that she met at the mall, or at a concert, etc, and I think we only half believed her. Then, she showed up at homecoming with her boyfriend, who was a dead ringer for Johnny Depp. Nobody said anything, but I know we were all a little shocked that this guy actually existed, and was so cute and seemed so nice. And I’m sure we were jealous since none of us ever got asked out. And then it hit me: we were all insecure, awkward, and self-doubting. Sherry was confident, funny, relaxed, and easy to talk to. She was such a happy person that you felt happier anytime you were around her. She never said a negative word about herself, was always smiling, and always up for trying something new. Small wonder that she was out having fun on the weekends while we sat around complaining about how boring our lives were.
So let Sherry be a lesson to all of us women: your attitude about yourself and life has far more to do with your happy ending than your looks. And furthermore, your happy ending has nothing to do with finding a man, and everything to do with finding meaning and purpose in your own life.