Thinking about Body Image

The last two weeks at group have been focused on body image, which is particularly hard for me. I have always said that I don’t have low self-esteem. I have high self-hatred. That makes having any appreciation for my physical self incredibly difficult.

During week one, I was pretty furious, honestly. We watched a documentary about women’s body image called THE STRENGTH TO RESIST: Media’s Impact on Women and Girls. I fully recognize the impact media has on female body image. It’s terrible and real. But I have two major complaints about the movie:

1. There was not a single “obese” woman in the film. The lack of representation of real women and real bodies was really disheartening to me. The one woman who did talk about her “curves” was a professional boxer with arms like Mohammed Ali. I did not feel represented or understood at all by the creators of the movie. How can they possibly understand the emotions that I feel about my body when they do not experience what it is like to be in my body? Who knows what their body history is, but in that time, while make that movie, they were thin. And with thinness comes privilege.
2. The movie does not acknowledge the reality of fat-phobia/fat-bias. Not really. Yes, it acknowledges the existence, but it felt sugar coated in a “We are women, we are invincible” kind of way. I am working hard to do everything I can to stop my own judgment of people based on weight (including myself), and when I hear hate speech directed at people, I speak up. However, it is real. And my actions cannot change the world. There was a particular scene that really just pushed my buttons. Gale Dines, an AMAZING lecturer and associate professor of Sociology and Women’s Studies at Wheelock College in Boston, was speaking to a lecture hall of typical students. During her presentation she uses a lot of slides, mostly of models in various poses. She points out the inherent violence/racism/sexism/etc-ism in each. The audience listens intently, seeming to really appreciate everything that she is saying. And then she puts up a photograph of a woman, who by today’s medical standards would be considered morbidly obese. The woman is wearing a tiny blue bikini. And the audience breaks out in hysterical laughter. To the point where Dr. Dines has to change the slide before she can speak about how awful it is that this woman, no matter how comfortable she is with her own body is ridiculed for her size. THAT, my dear friends, is reality. Reality is that people pretend to not care. People pretend to not judge. People pretend to be truly and honestly interested in the horrors of media bias. And then they see a woman that doesn’t fit the standard that very same media has taught them is attractive, and they break out into laughter. I can’t even imagine what it would be like for the woman in the photo to be in that room when the fits of giggles began.

I will give the movie some credit because beyond the issues with weight bias, they also discussed the media’s representation of women of color. This was where the documentary hit the nail on the head about privilege. (I’m fully aware of my own white privilege, and try to keep that in mind when I get angry about any –ism that I am subjected to.)I will never fully comprehend the experience of a woman of color; I have a great appreciation of Jean Kilbourne’s attempt to shed some light on this media bias. Not trying to “unpack my invisible backpack” or anything here, just acknowledging the one good and direct thing that I saw in this movie.

This week, we talked a bit more about the movie, but it seems that my opinion didn’t change and the group leaders just weren’t all that interested in having a politically charged debate with me. I’m just not willing to swallow the “one person can change the world” pill that they want me to, at least not on this particular topic. I will be judged for my physical appearance. That is just the harsh truth of the society we live in. It sucks. And I do what I can to change myself, and I can try to change my own reactions to the rooms full of laughing college students, but I cannot make anyone else see things the way I want them to. That’s just life.

We moved on to a discussion about all of the things that we have put off or will not do because of our weight/body. My list is immeasurable. But the therapist said two very heavy and emotionally weighty things that made me start really thinking about it.

“The Eating Disorder will not give up until you’re dead.”

and

“What would life look like if this was it? What if you never lost another ounce?”

That second one scared the shit out of me. I cannot imagine being the size that I am for the rest of my life. None of the “future fantasies” that I dream about have ever had me in this body. I don’t know how to go about changing those images in my head.

I have always put off going to school, because I want to become a traditional midwife. I cannot imagine expecting anyone to respect anything I say about their physical health if it is obvious that my physical health is not visually excellent. I’m “obese” according to the medical industry, and I worry that working in a health related field, I should have my own health under control before I try to give advice to anyone else about their health.

So, in my ED controlled mind, never losing one more ounce means that I will never fulfill a lifelong dream of becoming a midwife. I will never catch babies. I will never get to watch the joyous look on a woman’s face when she holds her child to her chest for the first time and know that I was there to assist and witness her own personal miracle.

There are a million other things that I could list that I’m not doing until I lose weight (going to Europe, shopping at real stores instead of thrift stores, etc).

I’m trying so hard to find a way to wrap my mind around the fact that I may never ever be anything other than the size I am right now, but I cannot seem to accept it.