Let’s End Body Shaming

We have the power to end body shaming. That’s right. You. Me. Him. Her. They. All of us. It will require some tough work, but we can do it. We live in a culture where a significant portion of the population is either trying to make their bodies “thinner” or worrying about maintaining their “thinness.” This obsession with “thinness” is rooted in the dangerous presumption that “thin” equals “healthy” and “fat” equals “unhealthy.”

The side-effect of this narrow and faulty definition of health, is if you aren’t “thin” or actively pursuing “thinness” you might be perceived as unhealthy, unattractive, unmotivated, unhappy, lazy and/or dumb. Said another way: If you do not have a thin body or aren’t actively trying to have a thin body, you aren’t enough.

Think about that for a moment.

Think about the long-term mental and physical impact of being told over and over (via peers, family, doctors, school, books, music, movies, television, the media, etc) that the size (i.e. perceived health) of your body dictates your worthiness as a human.  This systemic body shaming created and sustains the sixty-billion dollar weight-loss industry and fuels the highly stigmatizing and soul-crushing war against fat bodies.

Systemic body shaming harms everyone but it is especially cruel to those fighting for their lives in eating disorder recovery. When an eating disorder hijacked my brain, it used body shame as a prison cell. Systemic body shaming ensured those walls stayed firm and impenetrable. No matter where I went or what I did, I couldn’t escape the constant reminders that my body was a problem that needed to be fixed and I was a failure because I couldn’t “fix” it.

After thirty-years of suffering and trying in vain to crack the wall, at the age of thirty-nine I harnessed all the strength and courage I could to challenge internal and external body shame. It was one of the most challenging experiences of my life and I was lucky to have an incredible support system. It took a significant amount of vulnerability, courage, compassion, patience and practice but I am where I am today because of it and I’d like to share some of what I learned.

First, let me say, I am fortunate because even though my body doesn’t fit our culture’s definition of “thin,” my body still affords me many privileges. As a white, cisgender, middle-aged recovered woman who wears straight sized clothes, I can go to any store and find clothing I want to wear and most public and private spaces accommodate my body size. After decades of fighting against my body, I now know what an incredible ally my body is. It is the amazing instrument I use to experience and engage in my life.

Despite my privileges, I am not immune to body shaming. And honestly, more often than not, its passive or inadvertent shaming. Meaning the person doesn’t even realize they are doing it. Fatphobia and body shaming are woven so deeply into who we are and who we think we should be, we often don’t realize when we’re experiencing it or taking part in it. For example, how often to you hear or engage in: Clothes policing (“She should NOT be wearing that bikini), food policing (“Are you sure you want to eat that?” or “You know how many calories are in that?”) health trolling (“He’s going to get diabetes if he doesn’t lose weight.” or “I’m just worried about your health.), or the assumption that everyone wants to wear clothes that make their body look thinner. The presumption for all of these is there is something wrong with a person’s body.

Body shaming is everywhere. I want to single out a specific body shaming incident I experienced a couple of years ago because if I hadn’t gone through recovery, I would have thought it was okay and I was just being “too sensitive.” I would have left the store thinking there was something wrong with me and started another diet to fix my problematic body. The diet would fail, as it was designed to do, but I’d blame myself and sink into a quicksand of shame and self-loathing.

But that’s not what happened. This time I was prepared. The healing I experienced and the tools* I learned through eating disorder recovery helped break this destructive and dangerous pattern.

My Mom and I went to a local boutique because she wanted to buy me clothes for my birthday. I was still fairly new to recovered so I was anxious about the potential triggers involved with clothes shopping. But I also really needed a new pair of jeans. So I said yes.

Rather than wing it, I took some time before the shopping trip to come up with a game plan. I mentally prepared myself not to look at or acknowledge sizes and I gave myself two go-to positive affirmations:

I am enough.

My value and self-worth stem from who I am and not what I look like.

When we got to the store I felt strong. Rather than distract myself with all the clothes I couldn’t wear, I focused on the clothes I could wear. And I found a bunch of clothes! Some I liked, some I didn’t. Some fit, some didn’t. I tried on a bunch of “non jean” clothes, then remembered my primary objective was to find a pair of jeans.  So I asked the sales clerk if they had any jeans. She said yes and recommended Paige jeans. She said they were super comfortable and a best seller at the store. I said great and went and grabbed a pair off the rack.

I tried them on and she was right, they were so comfortable. But the size I had on was a little small for me. Using positive affirmations, I swiftly neutralized the slight pang of shame in acknowledging that I needed a larger size. I asked the sales associate to bring me the next size up. Before she went to get the jeans she looked at me with concern and said, “Well, Paige jeans only go up to a size __.” (the number isn’t important)

Size __  was the next size up, the size that I asked for.

The sales associate’s statement letting me know my body might be too big to fit in Paige jeans, tore through all my pre-shopping prep work like a precision bullet and lodged right in my shame. I felt shocked, wounded and embarrassed. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run away. But I didn’t. I took a deep breath and with a pained smile said, “Okay, can you bring me that size.”

In that moment, I wasn’t entirely sure I would try on the jeans she brought. What if they didn’t fit?

As hurt as I was, I took a moment to reality check that statement, “What if they didn’t fit?” Okay. What if they didn’t? Would my kids stop loving me? Would my friends not want to spend time with me anymore? Would I not be able to write anymore or be a kind, compassionate person? Does my ability to wear Paige Jeans validate my humanity?

The reality check helped me reframe the situation in a more positive way.  I also repeated my mantras, “I am enough.” and “My value and self-worth stem from who I am and not what I look like.”

By the time the sales associate got back to the dressing room with the jeans, I’d calmed down. I was still afraid to try on the jeans for fear they wouldn’t fit, but I needed a pair of jeans dammit! And a pair of jeans doesn’t determine my value! So I kept going and put on the jeans. And they felt great. I still had to combat some negative thoughts, but got through it. And I got the jeans.

I didn’t tell the sales associate how her unnecessary comment hurt me. In that moment, I only had enough energy and resilience to get myself through the experience. Over the last few years I’ve been in many circumstances where someone has said or done something that made me feel bad about my body. Sometimes I spoke up, sometimes I didn’t. It’s hard to challenge something so many people see as a regular part of life. Frankly, body shame is so deeply ingrained it can be hard to see. But once you start to see it, it is virtually impossible to unsee.

Here’s the thing. We all body shame, including me. When I went through recovery I started to notice that when I said something negative about my body, it often prompted someone else to say something negative about their body as well. So I made a conscious effort to not body shame myself out loud. I was overwhelmed when I started to notice how often I had body shaming thoughts, because it was almost constant. Then I started challenging the negative thoughts. I also decided not comment on other people’s bodies. Period. I don’t value people based on the visual aesthetics of their body, so why was it often the first thing I said when I saw someone (“OMG you look amazing!” “OMG, you look gorgeous!” etc)? I started making a concerted effort to say something that more accurately represented how I felt when I saw them (“It is so great to see you!” “I’m so happy to talk to you in person!” “I am so happy to see you.”).

Freeing yourself from body shame takes practice and time. I’m still practicing. There are times when I inadvertently or unintentionally take part in body shaming. When I think an apology would be healing, I apologize. When I think an apology might harm or exacerbate the hurt, I let it go. In both situations I learn. I own what I said and did and commit to doing better.

Commit to doing better. It has the power to change the world. We can do better when it comes to body shaming. We can work hard to break the cycle so future generations don’t grow up feeling like they have to “fix” their body. No one is born hating their body. Babies, toddlers and kids don’t hate their bodies. We teach it to them. Systemic body shaming didn’t start with us, but it can end with us.

* I want to highlight some of tools I learned in recovery that helped me heal and let go of body shame. The tools are in bold.