Recently, I came across a blog post by a personal trainer in which she explored one of my least favorite terms as applied to women's bodies -- the word "bulky." Any weight-training woman is familiar with this term, as it is often the first thing other women will say as their reason for refusing to lift weights. The idea is that lifting weights will lead to the development of big muscles, and the development of big muscles means a woman will no longer be beautiful and will instead be manly, unattractive, scary and doomed to a sex-free, love-free life.

The comments on the blog post illustrated this line of thought clearly, as woman after woman expressed dismay that she had taken up heavy lifting and was horrified to see that her body had developed muscles. Some even clearly articulated their belief that in doing so, they had crossed a very bright line in which women were meant to be weaker and protected by the men they loved.

The women had set out in pursuit of the slender, compact body most often displayed by female celebrities, and instead they found themselves becoming muscular. It didn't matter that they were also stronger and that they were most likely healthier, with tougher bones and a stronger heart. What mattered was that they were bigger.

As I read through those comments, I reflected on a TED talk given by writer Chimamanda Adichie (watch below) in which she spoke about the "danger of the single story." She described growing up in Nigeria and yet writing stories in which her blonde-haired, blue-eyed characters ate apples and played in snow. Every book she had read was written by British authors about British life, and as a result she hadn't realized it was possible to write books about her own life. She thought the only way to be worthy of literature was to be a foreigner.

I thought about her words and I realized that we as a culture had accepted the single story of the "ideal body" so thoroughly that no room remained for alternate definitions of female beauty. Take the comments on the aforementioned blog post. The "ideal female body" -- a slim figure with breasts that aren't too big and thighs that don't touch and a butt that isn't too flat and nothing that jiggles too much -- is desired with such single-mindedness that the non-cosmetic benefits of weight training are dismissed without a second thought.

I use the example of women and muscles because that is what I, as an athletic woman who lifts weights, am most familiar with. However, the story of the single ideal body manifests itself in breast augmentation and pumping parties, in gimmicky diets and weight-loss gadgets bought on installment plans, in firming creams and treatments meant to zap cellulite into non-existence. Fortunes are spent and made in pursuit of the "ideal body," and yet the only thing that has happened is that the ideal has become even more unattainable than ever before.

It's not hard to see how this happened, either. Look at our culture, at the bodies represented on television and in magazines and in movies and in advertising. Just as Adichie only thought she could write stories about white children in snowy climates, we as a culture have trouble envisioning a standard of beauty that is not tall, thin, able-bodied and European. Even when we do embrace someone who does not fit that standard, we tend to be very self-congratulatory about it, thus undoing whatever progress was gained by reducing that person into little more than a symbol of our open-mindedness.