body type

The Body Image Monster Didn't Win Today

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  I consider days when my body image monster doesn't win to be major victories.

I've battled body image issues my whole life, or more specifically once puberty hit and peer validation became a thing. Prior to that, I was just a kid of the 80s running around. Adolescence marked the beginning to the boxes we place ourselves and others into. It was when I became increasingly more aware and self-conscious of my physical form and it wasn't fun for me. The more I talk to people, I learn just how common this shared experience is.

Hell is a place on earth and it's called middle school.

I remember standing in the dressing room while shopping for bathing suits. Or shopping for something to wear to the final dance for my 8th grade graduation. I wailed. I pleaded. I sobbed. I didn't want to look. I didn't want to choose. Nothing felt right.I hated my reflection on those days. They were pure torture. It may be why I still have issues shopping for clothes. The dressings room bring up some PTSD, maybe, even though I'm no longer shopping for ill-fitting dresses or bathing suits.

Things got minimally better as I grew older. Grunge came into fashion and that meant big baggy clothes I could hide in. As fashion trends change, and since powerfully choosing to wear clothes I really love, I find myself sticking to old standbys from the GAP (not skinny jeans) or brands like Frank & Oak, my new favorite. I choose what feels good or what I like.

I've worked hard to get myself into the best shape possible, but the body image monster is always hanging out, like the proverbial raincloud above my head or a guest who just won't leave after the party is over. No matter what I eat (or don't eat) or how often I run or work out, I just don't have the body type where I will slide on a pair of slim fit pants and need a belt. Only once have I've known the feeling of having my sits bones actually hurt when I sat down--when I dropped down to 118 pounds in high school during the nadir of my eating disorder. It was unpleasant, the whole thing, and not something I wish to replicate.

I know I will have supreme inner peace and probably come close to nirvana when I accept my body fully for all it is and is not, but the body image monster is constantly goading me to suffer, instead. I haven't given him a name or a shape or other characteristics, he's just "there" as a feeling.

But he didn't win the other day. He's winning less and less each day, actually.

I had a day last week where I was laying on my bed, staring at my hand and I started sobbing out of nowhere. It may sound a little silly but the realization of how many years, days, minutes and seconds I've spent staring at my hand just knocked the wind out of me. I've been through so much and so many changes, and there's my hand--always there when I look for it. My body is so familiar to me, more reliable than any person, place or thing in my life; it's my oldest and best friend.

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I try to remember that realization and this sentiment when I lose touch with my gratitude for my body that works so hard to keep me alive another day. I've lost so many dear friends and family members to their battles with their physical forms and I know I'm not alone in this. By appreciating our own bodies a bit more, perhaps it's like sending a prayer for the extra day or week our friends and family members would have liked to be here, imperfect body and all.

1) Avoid mirrors. I didn't own a mirror for years and I have definitely noticed a huge shift in my own struggle with body image the more mirrors I have around or when I search for my reflection in a window. Sometimes I spend minutes spinning around, trying to get a good angle, before leaving the house. Some days, there are no good angles and I've found the best days are when I don't go near a mirror before leaving the house. Perhaps it's denial but whoever said ignorance is bliss is a good friend of mine when it comes to what I look like some days.

2) Wear what fits you now. Sometimes I rejoice when I can fit into pants I wore three years ago. Some days I feel like I should have a scrolling banner attached to the length of my body and be lifted horizontally into the atmosphere. I know my body has undergone a massive biological and physiological transformation in the past two years. I know different companies make clothes in many different environments from many different fabrics according to specific dimensions or measurements. Despite the reality that each human body is incredibly different in so many ways, we all try to look the same and fit into pieces of fabric sewn together. Still, my BIM (body image monster) tells me I'm a failure. When he does this, I grab whatever feels most comfortable now, no matter the size, and give him the finger.

3) Eat food. During the year or so of my eating disorder, I followed some ridiculous logic. I starved myself most of the day and then consumed specific foods I deemed "safe" or "allowed", most of which were high in simple carbohydrates. Since I was often so weak from malnutrition, I wasn't exercising to burn off all that energy so all those simple carbs went right to my fat cells. I little silly but hey, it happened. Now, I know better. Despite some frustration with my aging body and metabolism, I know eating more food of many different kinds (mostly vegetables and fresh fruit), not limited amounts of the same things, is the solution to maintaining a healthy weight. And so I eat whole foods in healthy amounts and consider my job done.

4) Relax and relate. The body image monster is such a funny guy. He tries to tell me that people I see who are thinner or more fit (the skinny jeans wearers, namely) are happy and content in their bodies. Such a sassy devil, that one. He's funny and really wrong. When I find myself comparing myself or making assumptions about other people, I think of how many people have confessed their own body image struggles to me. I relax and remember not to be deceived by appearances. I relate to the internal conflict of self-acceptance many people face each day, no matter their appearance. I would say everyone, but I try to avoid generalizing with my assertions. But it has surprised me how many people struggle when others might think they would have no reason to at all.

I think it's also helpful to zoom out and consider our bodies as one aspect about us. We are more than our physical forms. We are our character, our courage, our talents, our habits (both good and not-so-good ones) our accomplishments and the way we show up for people and relationships we care about. We are unlimited potential and when we confine our worth to the shape we are in, it limits what we can provide others and give to ourselves.

I share this with my clients who make assumptions, either related to body image or anything else, and they find it really helpful perspective. It's inspired me to write another post about what we think we see and what we attach to it. That's coming up next week.

Do you have a body image monster? What have you observed about him/her/it over your life, as you've grown and changed?

What have you found to be effective in defeating and overcoming the negative self-talk of your body image monster?

My Pants Don't Fit: But I Deserve to Be Comfortable

  Body image. Who gets to escape it? No one, as far as I know. A lot of women struggle and they think men don't struggle with it, but I know a lot of men. And they struggle with it. And I can most definitely tell you that many transgender people do, too. If you're struggling, keep reading.

It seems no matter what body type or level of fitness we have (or haven't) achieved, it's never good enough. And then we make the situation worse by punishing ourselves with little things like comparing ourselves to other people or keeping old clothes that don't fit as reminders of what we once were or should be. Thin jeans vs. fat jeans, anyone? How about this one: I don't fit into my pants because I gained weight. I am mad at myself that I gained weight, so I won't allow myself to buy new pants to fit the current me.

I know that one, really well.

One of the biggest fears I had about transitioning was that I would never pass as a man. Why?

I was afraid my hips were too big. I was afraid I would have a surgery that changed part of my body but not another part and it would give me away and I would never be a successful "dude". What I learned since transitioning has taught me a lot.

As a result of the hormones I am taking, I lost my waist. Like, lost it. I was told it would happen, but it's weird. My hips also changed. I was also told it would happen but I'm a recovering Catholic so I was, "riiiiighhht. I'll believe THAT when I see it."

Well, I see it now. I am far from this guy:

 

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but, I am actually thrilled with what I've got. And I don't know too many people who look like him, anyway.

With my curvy, hour-glass figure slightly less hour-glassy, my a-ha moment came when I was getting dressed one day and I couldn't fit into my pants. Pair after pair went into a heap on the floor. One word came to mind: FAILURE.

Yep, I was a failure.

I eat really well, exercise for fun and not because someone's forcing me, drink plenty of water, get lots of sleep (finally--that insomnia really sucked), etc, etc. So why can't I fit into my pants anymore?

Then I realized it: my waist was thicker and my hips were smaller. My body fat had redistributed itself so now I needed pants that were slightly larger. I was simply a new body shape--something I had wanted and worked so hard to go after. I wasn't a failure, at all.

Simply accepting my body exactly as it is now, and not comparing it to what it was in the past helped me get in the car and buy a couple new pairs of pants for my new more manly shape. Did we talk about how I grew abs? No? Ok, another time.

 

Am I content with what I've achieved and the body I have, in this moment, even if I'm wearing slightly larger pants? Absolutely. I am perceived as a guy pretty much anywhere I go, so all those worries about the junk in my trunk was a big waste of time. It probably helps that I took super good care of my body during transition so I gained a minimal amount of weight. It IS true that I may have indulged myself a bit this year but hey, I was going through a huge life change. Sh%^ happens. Today I get to start again.

I keep the older pants around, as reminders that I could run a bit more. There are several things I could do that I'm not doing to fit into them.

Do I want to do those things right now? No.

Right now, I deserve to be comfortable. If I want to fit back into those smaller pants, I know exactly what to do. 

And it starts with accepting myself as I am, in this moment. Embracing what was, what is and what will be. If I can't be ok with what is now, nothing will ever be good enough. So I love what is.