Body shamers, please mind your own body.
By Steph Gaudreau, Self
Dear Body Shamers,
Earlier this week—on the eve of my 2017 Women’s Strength Summit website going live (oh, the irony)—it became abundantly clear, yet again, that there is still much work to do to change this conversation about women’s bodies.
I give you Exhibit A:
Earlier this week—on the eve of my 2017 Women’s Strength Summit website going live (oh, the irony)—it became abundantly clear, yet again, that there is still much work to do to change this conversation about women’s bodies.
I give you Exhibit A:
My Instagram post simply says: “Remember, YOU get to define what strong means to you. #HarderToKill”
And buried deep down in the comments, came this:
Where do I even start unpacking this?
[post_ads]I don’t know this woman who commented whatsoever. The point of this post isn’t to shame her back or go after her or leave rude comments. In fact, I want you to leave her alone, though I’m hoping she sees this post. This isn’t the first instance of body shaming the world has ever seen, and it certainly won’t be the last.
But know this: Words do matter—and as someone with body dysmorphic disorder, I've lived in their power.
Seriously, it’s fine that my body is “not attractive” to this commenter—which is quite fortunate since I’m the one living in it, not her. Seven, 10, 20 years ago, a comment like that would’ve sent me into a mental and emotional tailspin. I battled with body dysmorphia as recently as 2010, believing that my 130-pound body was deformed…and wrong.
I vividly remember, at the height of triathlon season (middle photo, below) when the scale dipped to a low of 128. Momentary elation was replaced by the feeling of absolute emptiness. I still wasn’t “happy.” WTF, that’s not how it was supposed to work.
It took a long time, and a lot of work, to be OK with myself. I had to sit in the soup and make forward progress only to cha-cha backwards and then forwards again. The path has seen many failures, but, nowadays, it’s pretty common for me not to think at all about the size, fatness, thinness, muscly-ness, tone, wrinkliness, or whatever about my body. It matters a lot more to me how I feel: strong, capable, healthy, energized, vibrant, alive.
So really, I don’t give a single sh*t what anyone says about my body or if it doesn’t match up with their likes. But I’m lucky to be on the other side. It’s taken me a lifetime to not need the opinions or validation of others to prop up my slipping self-worth.
But here’s my regret: Many, many women I know and work with aren’t there yet. And they read hurtful comments, internalize them, and believe that they’re worthless for having big quads or cellulite (hey, thanks for pointing that out…like I didn’t ever notice!) or a "weird" nose. And those words become the very fiber of their being, with the power to make them sick.
[post_ads_2]
When I started my website, Stupid Easy Paleo, it was purely for funsies. But now, I realize I have a duty and a purpose and a responsibility beyond making recipes: It’s to speak for women, the vulnerable, the shamed, and the hopeless. The women who cannot, for whatever reason, see that they are beautiful and worthy simply because they are. It’s to help women get stronger in body, mind, and spirit so they can latch onto the tiniest, most minuscule shred of self-belief that they are worth it. And then the grip strengthens, and they grow and learn and expand into what they’ve always wanted to be.
I get that I’m responsible for my reactions, BUT—and this is a huge but—we have got to stop believing that words don’t matter. It’s so easy to get sucked in to commenting on other people’s bodies, to put them down, and to gossip, so I’m doubling down on my efforts to do better. I can only expect to see change in the world when I start with myself.
Body obsession has got to stop—and it starts with you and me.
For one day, I challenge you to make a hash mark on a sticky note every time you talk about someone else’s body. Better yet, keep track of how many times a day you make comments or engage in negative self-talk about your own body. Do it, and send me a comment when you have a number.
I have to wonder: How much is body obsession a way to avoid dealing with your stuff? What else could you do with that time and energy? How about practice self-care, go to bed earlier, build a business, take a walk, go on an adventure, have lunch with a friend, have sex, cook a meal, plant a garden…I dunno, the possibilities seem pretty endless to me.
[post_ads]Furthermore, this ol’ chestnut just won’t die: Bodyweight and health status are not always linked. The commenter's implication is that my body isn’t “toned” and therefore not “healthy” especially since I am “overweight” and have “cellulite.” (Curiously, I’m also "manly" because I have muscle? Oh, most unholy of trinities! Body fat, "manly" muscle, and appearing overweight!) I could give numerous examples of how bodyweight isn’t synonymous with “health” or vice versa.
We have got to stop elevating bodyweight to this godlike status, or worse, making it synonymous with a person’s worth. Are we really that shallow and jaded? It’s not a be all, end all. For someone like me with a well-muscled frame, it’s an even more misleading metric.
Now, I know from conversations with men in my life that body image/body shaming is real for them. It happens, it worries them, and it hurts them, too. But I need you to get real woke to something right now: The kind of body shaming and body obsession perpetuated against women today (often by other women) is a very real form of internalized misogyny.
Yes, I just went there.
When women body shame other women, it plays to the idea that there's a specific way women should look, usually in an effort to live up to a completely unrealistic beauty ideal. Never before has it been harder to be a woman with a body, which is unfortunate because that’s roughly 51 percent of the populace.
We’re either too “manly” (hat tip, my commenter), too buxom, too skinny, too fat, too prudish, too slutty, too opinionated, too submissive—I mean, it just never stops, does it? We’ve got to develop awareness when it comes to internalized misogyny, even within ourselves. We have to hold ourselves to a higher standard.
Most of my commenter's thoughts were purely opinion. Again, she’s entitled to it, though it didn’t add anything productive to the conversation—just another drive-by shaming. But the most concerning part to me was her words at the very end:
[post_ads_2]
“Being able to lift weights and look like a man doesn’t make a woman equal with anything.”
To be clear: I don’t lift weights to "look like a man."
I lift weights because I love it. I love feeling the resistance against my body. It keeps my mind sharp and makes me pay attention, focusing on the present. I love the feeling of accomplishing something I maybe didn’t think I could. I love the mental, physical, and emotional challenge. I love how it makes me feel alive. And I realize, it’s not for everyone. Not everybody loves those things, and that’s fine.
You do you, dude(tte) and I’ll keep doing me. Things tend turn out better that way, anyway.
This is it: your time, and mine, to do better. To hold ourselves and each other to a higher standard. To see the good in ourselves so we can see the good in our sisters and brothers. To continue this conversation with friends and family. Sometimes, the only way out is through…through the awkward conversations and dealing with our own stuff and having more questions than answers. But it’s progress nonetheless.
More:
And buried deep down in the comments, came this:
[post_ads]I don’t know this woman who commented whatsoever. The point of this post isn’t to shame her back or go after her or leave rude comments. In fact, I want you to leave her alone, though I’m hoping she sees this post. This isn’t the first instance of body shaming the world has ever seen, and it certainly won’t be the last.
But know this: Words do matter—and as someone with body dysmorphic disorder, I've lived in their power.
Seriously, it’s fine that my body is “not attractive” to this commenter—which is quite fortunate since I’m the one living in it, not her. Seven, 10, 20 years ago, a comment like that would’ve sent me into a mental and emotional tailspin. I battled with body dysmorphia as recently as 2010, believing that my 130-pound body was deformed…and wrong.
I vividly remember, at the height of triathlon season (middle photo, below) when the scale dipped to a low of 128. Momentary elation was replaced by the feeling of absolute emptiness. I still wasn’t “happy.” WTF, that’s not how it was supposed to work.
So really, I don’t give a single sh*t what anyone says about my body or if it doesn’t match up with their likes. But I’m lucky to be on the other side. It’s taken me a lifetime to not need the opinions or validation of others to prop up my slipping self-worth.
But here’s my regret: Many, many women I know and work with aren’t there yet. And they read hurtful comments, internalize them, and believe that they’re worthless for having big quads or cellulite (hey, thanks for pointing that out…like I didn’t ever notice!) or a "weird" nose. And those words become the very fiber of their being, with the power to make them sick.
[post_ads_2]
When I started my website, Stupid Easy Paleo, it was purely for funsies. But now, I realize I have a duty and a purpose and a responsibility beyond making recipes: It’s to speak for women, the vulnerable, the shamed, and the hopeless. The women who cannot, for whatever reason, see that they are beautiful and worthy simply because they are. It’s to help women get stronger in body, mind, and spirit so they can latch onto the tiniest, most minuscule shred of self-belief that they are worth it. And then the grip strengthens, and they grow and learn and expand into what they’ve always wanted to be.
Body obsession has got to stop—and it starts with you and me.
For one day, I challenge you to make a hash mark on a sticky note every time you talk about someone else’s body. Better yet, keep track of how many times a day you make comments or engage in negative self-talk about your own body. Do it, and send me a comment when you have a number.
I have to wonder: How much is body obsession a way to avoid dealing with your stuff? What else could you do with that time and energy? How about practice self-care, go to bed earlier, build a business, take a walk, go on an adventure, have lunch with a friend, have sex, cook a meal, plant a garden…I dunno, the possibilities seem pretty endless to me.
[post_ads]Furthermore, this ol’ chestnut just won’t die: Bodyweight and health status are not always linked. The commenter's implication is that my body isn’t “toned” and therefore not “healthy” especially since I am “overweight” and have “cellulite.” (Curiously, I’m also "manly" because I have muscle? Oh, most unholy of trinities! Body fat, "manly" muscle, and appearing overweight!) I could give numerous examples of how bodyweight isn’t synonymous with “health” or vice versa.
We have got to stop elevating bodyweight to this godlike status, or worse, making it synonymous with a person’s worth. Are we really that shallow and jaded? It’s not a be all, end all. For someone like me with a well-muscled frame, it’s an even more misleading metric.
Now, I know from conversations with men in my life that body image/body shaming is real for them. It happens, it worries them, and it hurts them, too. But I need you to get real woke to something right now: The kind of body shaming and body obsession perpetuated against women today (often by other women) is a very real form of internalized misogyny.
Yes, I just went there.
When women body shame other women, it plays to the idea that there's a specific way women should look, usually in an effort to live up to a completely unrealistic beauty ideal. Never before has it been harder to be a woman with a body, which is unfortunate because that’s roughly 51 percent of the populace.
Most of my commenter's thoughts were purely opinion. Again, she’s entitled to it, though it didn’t add anything productive to the conversation—just another drive-by shaming. But the most concerning part to me was her words at the very end:
[post_ads_2]
“Being able to lift weights and look like a man doesn’t make a woman equal with anything.”
To be clear: I don’t lift weights to "look like a man."
I lift weights because I love it. I love feeling the resistance against my body. It keeps my mind sharp and makes me pay attention, focusing on the present. I love the feeling of accomplishing something I maybe didn’t think I could. I love the mental, physical, and emotional challenge. I love how it makes me feel alive. And I realize, it’s not for everyone. Not everybody loves those things, and that’s fine.
You do you, dude(tte) and I’ll keep doing me. Things tend turn out better that way, anyway.
This is it: your time, and mine, to do better. To hold ourselves and each other to a higher standard. To see the good in ourselves so we can see the good in our sisters and brothers. To continue this conversation with friends and family. Sometimes, the only way out is through…through the awkward conversations and dealing with our own stuff and having more questions than answers. But it’s progress nonetheless.
More:
- If You've Ever Judged Someone at the Gym, This Woman's Photo Will Change the Way You Think
- Fitness Blogger Redemptive Rebecca Is Sharing Honest Selfies With the World
- Yes, You Can Be in the Best Shape of Your Life and Still Have Tummy Rolls
