How To Avoid Body Shame in a Body Image Obsessed Culture

I’ve blogged about being in recovery from an eating disorder on this site. Even though I have a few years under my belt, I’m still triggered by the bombardment of images of thin women and our culture’s obsession with having a certain kind of body. Even as Sports Illustrated puts a model on its cover who some would call “plus-sized” (and others would call “normal”), the message is still that what a woman’s body looks like is very important. I grew up during the heroin-chic phase in the 90’s, which promoted the image of gaunt, sickly looking models. Today it appears we’ve moved toward an obsession with fitness: getting in shape, losing weight, “eating clean,” etc. Celebs hawk (bogus) weight loss supplements and many stay in the limelight by sharing how they lost their baby weight (a subject we seem especially gripped by). And even as I read the New York Daily News—not that I should have particularly high expectations for an admittedly junky newspaper—a quarter of the articles are about “beach bods” and “from flab to fab”—and these appear alongside election news and updates on the crisis in Syria! I’ve complied a list of strategies I learned in out-patient and therapy and others passed on by friends who are also in recovery. Warning, if self-help stuff makes you cringe, you may cringe once or twice. However, try to keep in mind the torture what those of us who suffered from EDs underwent in trying to live up to the standard put forth by our body obsessed media. (Note: you don’t have to have an eating disorder to be made miserable by the standards and expectations put forth by the media. The social message affects us all: your body should look like this. Thin is better. You’re not enough if your body isn’t perfect.)

1. Avoid triggers. Ok, this one may seem totally obvious, but it’s still important. If you’re like me, you are magnetically drawn to any material that focuses on body-image. An Us Weekly at the supermarket checkout has my name on it. I love(d) The Biggest Loser. You may think it’s easy to stay away from this stuff, but I discovered that I was actually hooked on it. Poring over “Best and Worst Celebrity Beach Bodies” gave me a little buzz. It took me out of the present moment—which is what I believe lies beneath the eating disorder, wanting to escape pain. So, one day at a time, put down the Star Magazine and change the channel when Entertainment Tonight interviews a celebrity mom who lost 20 pounds in 20 days.

2. Stop looking in the mirror. This seems impossible, right? One can’t take a shower in the morning and simply walk out the door leaving my appearance a total mystery! True, you probably can’t entirely avoid looking in the mirror—but don’t inspect your body. Body inspecting was my #1 compulsive habit before I got into recovery. That and the scale. I believed my body could change after one meal or in the course of a few hours. I had to see if cellulite or fat magically appeared on my body. I looked at myself in whatever reflective surface I passed. Store windows, the mirrors tilted on the ceiling at the Walgreens in my neighborhood, whatever. I’m not gonna lie: this was a really hard habit to break. But if you want to be free of the pain that comes with not accepting what your body looks like, you’re going to have to forfeit behavior that reinforces the idea that you are flawed. Today I give myself a quick once-over after I get dressed and then I move on with my day.

3. Appreciate this quote from Jennifer Aniston: “I wish I looked like Jennifer Aniston.” Do you love this as much as I do?! What does she mean? That the image you see of her face and body in her ads and magazine spreads are not real. Aniston addresses a critical idea to consider when we go into “compare and despair” with a model or actress’s body. That body which is so much more appealing than ours was made by a computer.

4. Don’t compare your insides to somebody else’s outsides. I used to think that if I lost 10 pounds. all my problems would go away. Those women in magazines with “perfect” bodies had perfect lives. They breezed through life and were universally liked. My therapist would say, “You’re going to get the same love at 80 pounds or 200 pounds.” I never believed her. But when I settled into a normal weight once I got into recovery, a miracle happened. No one thought any differently of me. Actually, no one noticed I gained weight, except one friend who said, “You look so much better now…” Years ago I worked for a stylist and one day on a shoot we had a model who was painfully thin. Back then I was so envious and miserable because I didn’t look like her. When the crew had breakfast she ate a grapefruit and her lunch order was a Diet Coke. I was furious that she had such incredible discipline. But today I remember the scenario a bit differently. I remember the bruises she had all over her body as a result of being underweight and sick. I remember how she had to put her head down on the table during lunch because she was lightheaded. Today I wouldn’t make such a foolish assumption, that thin equals happy. There’s more to someone’s story than their physical appearance.

5. Look in the mirror (neck up) and tell yourself you’re beautiful. I know, I know. I can’t be serious, right? My therapist said that the only way to change the negative thoughts which plagued me all day saying that I wasn’t enough, that I was fat (and I’ll spare you the thoughts that were way more heinous than those), was to add some opposition to the choir. The first time she told me to look at myself in the mirror and tell myself I was beautiful and enough, I gagged at the very idea. But I had reached my bottom and I was willing to take her suggestions. (She always said, “If nothing changes, nothing changes.”) At first, the eye contact alone was difficult. But I persevered. And though the effect was not immediate, I know that my affirmations have had an enormous impact on my body image obsession. Gradually, the self-love overpowered the self-hate.

I hope my experience can help those of you who suffer from constant body criticism. It’s not an easy reflex to overcome, but if I can do it, so can you.