Not long ago in France, a gym put up a poster in its window. The ad showed a young, thin, tanned woman in a bikini with the caption:
“This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?”
A middle-aged woman, who clearly didn’t fit the ad’s “ideal,” decided to respond publicly. Her letter went viral:
To Whom It May Concern,
Whales are always surrounded by friends—dolphins, sea lions, even curious humans. They travel in pods, never alone.
They have an active love life, get pregnant, and raise the most adorable baby whales. They feast on shrimp, splash with dolphins, and swim across oceans visiting spectacular places—Patagonia, the Bering Sea, the coral reefs of Polynesia.
Whales are singers. They’ve even released CDs. They’re majestic, admired, and protected across the globe. Apart from humans, they have no predators.
Mermaids? They don’t exist. But if they did, they’d probably be in therapy—fish or human, who am I really? Not to mention, they don’t have a love life (they drown men, for crying out loud). They don’t have children. And honestly—who wants to cuddle someone who smells like the fish market?
So for me, the choice is clear: I’d rather be a whale.
P.S. The media keeps telling us only skinny bodies are beautiful. I disagree. I’d rather enjoy an ice cream with my kids, share a good dinner with a man who makes me shiver, and laugh over chocolate with my friends.
And let’s be honest—when we gain weight with age, it’s not fat, it’s wisdom. When the brain overflows, it spreads out into the body. So no, we’re not heavy… we’re enormously cultured, educated, and happy.
From now on, when I look at my butt in the mirror, I won’t sigh. I’ll smile and think:
“Good grief, look how smart I am!
