Let me start by saying that I’m writing this post as much for myself as for all of you.
I’ve never felt at home in my body. From body dysmorphia in my teens to chronic pain in recent years, I’ve never been able to control the way that I look and feel to the degree I believe I should. My heart races in situations where I wish I could feel confident and at ease. My chronic pain, and the work it takes to stave it off, prevents me from spending my time how I would choose. My exaggerated hourglass figure makes me painfully aware of the way that others perceive my body.
But I’ve spent my thirtieth year at home caring for my self as I exist, rather than the self I project—swapping out button-downs and jeans for knit sweaters and leggings; mascara and concealer for eye cream and sunscreen; a blood-pressure-raising rush hour commute for a yoga class. It’s been a relief to regain the forty-five minutes I used to spend preparing myself to enter the outside world every morning, and instead getting my most thought-intensive writing done before everyone else is awake. But even as I’ve gotten used to the sight of myself without makeup or coordinating clothes, I’ve become more focused on the things I might have some power to change—like the appearance of faint lines on my skin, and the evolution of my body as I’ve entered the next decade of my life.
But there’s a subtle difference, I’ve found, between being motivated by the potential of changing yourself, and setting impossible goals that only lead to self-loathing. And there’s a difference between investing time, energy, and money in taking care of your future self, and devoting your resources to an impossible vision of who you might be—one that diet and beauty brands are all too eager to encourage, leaving you convinced that it’s your fault when you fall short.
Like so many others, I’ve spent the last year trying virtual workout programs, anti-aging moisturizers, and anxiety remedies; while also trying not to notice imperfections on my makeup-free face on Zoom, or look too closely at the fit of my clothes in the mirror. I’m learning to navigate the space between the person I want to be and the body I already have. I spent years of my life wishing I were someone else; but I’m starting to wish that I spent more time feeling grateful for the person I already am. And that’s prompted me to put into words the mindset shifts that have helped me to make some semblance of peace with myself, hoping that they’ll do the same for you.
1. Learn how our society shapes our perception of beauty.
Though our standards of beauty might feel intensely personal, they’re shaped almost entirely by the society we live in, varying widely between cultures and changing a great deal over time. In the United States, as processed food became widely available in the 19th century, weight moved from a symbol of wealth to one of overindulgence. Our culture began to promote the idea that to be fat was to lack self-control and dignity, so to be slim was to prove one’s morality, discipline, and worth.
Today, we use weight as a proxy for health; but studies have suggested that fitness matters far more than weight when it comes to the risk of heart disease. Many continue to view fatness as a physical manifestation of laziness; but 40 years of data suggests that even when current generations eat less and exercise more, they’re less likely to lose weight than past generations—perhaps due to societal shifts over the decades, like rising stress levels, less sleep, increased medication use, and the proliferation of environmental pollutants.
These attitudes lead to pervasive weight stigma in our society (particularly for women), subjecting larger people to weight discrimination and fat shaming from employers, medical workers, and complete strangers as they just try to go about their lives. (Side note: Weight discrimination is still legal in every state but Michigan, leading larger people to be hired, paid, and promoted less than their peers.)
The fear of becoming fat that’s been spoon-fed to us all our lives leads us to take desperate steps to lose weight that end up worsening our health in the long-term.
Recommended reading:
- When I Speak Out About Fat-Shaming, I’m Told to “Just Lose Weight”
- The Fear of Fat: Our Last Acceptable Bias
- Weight Stigma Kept Me Out of Doctors’ Offices for Almost a Decade
2. Understand your body’s need to maintain equilibrium.
Your body’s job is to keep you from starving. This means that it’s incredibly good at maintaining your weight. When you cut calories, your metabolism slows down to compensate; and if you do this repeatedly, it can slow down permanently. Hormones will kick in to make you even hungrier than you normally are to encourage you to bring your body back to its familiar weight; and again, if you do this repeatedly, it could permanently increase your appetite. You’ll lose less weight every time you restrict calories because your body is one step ahead of you, trying to protect you with every trick it knows.
Diets oversimplify the complexity of our body’s systems and overestimate our ability to change our weight through sheer willpower. Many experts now believe that our body has a “set point”—a preferred weight that your internal regulatory system works to maintain over time, just like a thermostat uses a feedback loop to hold a room at a specific temperature.
When you don’t lose weight, or quickly gain it back, don’t buy into the suggestion that it’s your fault for not trying hard enough. Understand that you have to work with your body to find a healthy weight, not against it.
Recommended reading:
3. Focus on progress, strength, and stamina rather than weight loss.
When it comes to exercise, your primary goal should be to find activities that you genuinely enjoy doing so that they’ll remain a part of your routine in the long-term. When you’re motivated by the desire to lose weight, it’s easy to choose activities that aren’t sustainable—like a cardio bootcamp that relegates you to the couch for a week afterwards, ultimately causing you to exercise less, versus an hour-long walk that you don’t mind doing every day. And don’t treat exercise as punishment—something that you force yourself to do when you’ve misbehaved in some way. When you’re trying to make a long-term change to your lifestyle, you don’t want to associate it with feelings of guilt and shame.
Be motivated by the desire to feel better in and about your body, and to take care of it throughout every stage of your life. Instead of looking for a clear Before and After, feel proud of yourself for continually putting in the effort and making progress.
Be okay with starting at square one, and look for signs that you’re improving your strength, stamina, and skill over time. Exercise has benefits above and beyond the hope that it can change our appearance—for example, it can really make a difference for a lot of people in fighting off depression, anxiety, insomnia, and dementia.
4. Avoid checking and comparison rituals.
I’m borrowing the language of obsessive-compulsive disorder here because it has a lot of overlap with body dysmorphia and eating disorders. Obsessive-compulsive disorder consists of an intrusive thought that’s followed by a behavior intended to neutralize the anxiety it causes. When these intrusive thoughts are focused on your body—for example, persistent frustration that the way you look doesn’t match the way you think you should, in spite of the hard work you’ve been putting in—you might begin routinely checking your appearance in the mirror, or continually comparing yourself to other people, wondering what they’re doing differently.
But though these behaviors might seem like a natural reaction to the anxiety you feel, they don’t lead to progress—just more anxiety. Several studies have now shown that not only does shame not motivate people to lose weight, it has incredibly harmful health effects—whether it’s coming from a stranger on the subway, a public health campaign, or your own mind. So, it’s critical to pay attention to when you feel the worst about your body—is it when you’re scrolling through Instagram, or idly examining yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth?—and cut out those behaviors whenever possible, reminding yourself that they don’t serve a productive purpose.
5. Appreciate what your body is already capable of.
Two years ago, I woke up with a stiff neck and an intense migraine that lasted for more than a year, eventually diagnosed as occipital neuralgia. The constant headache finally let up when I stopped commuting to the office every day; but I’ve still had to rearrange every area of my life to avoid triggering pain that lasts for days or even weeks.
When you have chronic pain, you often face the unpleasant choice between opting out of life to avoid making your pain worse, or showing up to life in a compromised state. During particularly difficult weeks, when a single rough car ride or long Zoom meeting can trigger crippling pain, I can’t exercise at all. And this absence is what reminds me that I actually enjoy exercising—the simple pleasure of an hour-long walk through the woods with my husband and our dogs, or of holding a position in yoga that I hadn’t yet mastered the last time I tried it. It reminds me to feel gratitude for what my body allows me to do on good days, rather than resentment for what it doesn’t allow me to do on bad days.
I would like to say that this has helped me to set aside my dissatisfaction with how my body looks, in favor of appreciating how it functions. I’m not there just yet—but I will say that I feel best about my body when I know I’ve put the effort into keeping myself healthy, as a partner to my body rather than an adversary.
6. Remind yourself that clothes exist to fit you, not the other way around.
We all have more clothes than we wear, with closets full of items we used to love, or know that we should love, but that don’t make us feel good anymore. Working from my home rather than a downtown office for the past year has helped me to whittle my closet down significantly—I’ve sold or donated so many items that fit, but that didn’t make me feel confident once I put them on; or that didn’t fit, but would if I found a way to return to my twenty-two-year-old body.
But in addition, as I’ve started doing more strength training, the shape of my body has changed in unexpected ways. I started working out two and a half years ago to improve my health on a long-term basis; but I thought that I’d naturally acquire a body that I could be proud of along the way. Instead, even as I’ve gotten into better shape, every curve on my body has grown more pronounced, forcing me to buy new pants, bras, and shirts to prepare for my eventual return to the outside world.
Trying on all of my old clothes, preparing to sell or donate more than three-quarters of what I owned, I realized that I had a choice in how I felt about these changes. I decided that it didn’t make sense to blame myself for not fitting into the clothes I used to love, or thought I’d love when I looked how I wanted to. And it definitely didn’t make sense to take unsustainable measures to fit into the dresses that had made me feel my best during my twenties. It only made sense to let them go, and only buy what did make me feel confident when I wore it. Anything less wasn’t worth the cost—especially considering the strain that our fast fashion tendencies put on clothing workers and the environment.
7. Remember that your appearance is the least important thing about you.
There’s one reminder that I keep in my back pocket for when I’m feeling particularly low: It’s not your job to be beautiful. This realization has been more liberating for me than any other.
Focusing your energy on your appearance only distracts you from what it is that you’re meant to do in your lifetime. The world doesn’t need you to be thin or conventionally attractive; but it does need the wisdom you’ve developed, the empathy you can share, and the contributions that only you can make.
Don’t wait to create the life you want to live until you look the way you think you should. When you’re going after a goal, it can be tempting to believe that your entire life will change when you achieve it. But we have to continually choose confidence and progress over perfection—that’s what will bring us fulfillment in the end.
