Recently I discovered a Substack by
called Body Type. It’s focused on ‘how things like exercise, eating, media, and culture influence the thoughts and feelings we have about our bodies.’ I enjoyed her pieces titled I dress sexy for other people, and so do you and Is any woman *not* a little fucked up about her body?It’s difficult for me to imagine that I’ll ever feel entirely peaceful about my body, so I suspect that others like me (millennial-ish American women, who grew up privy to the same self esteem-obliterating cultural factors) couldn’t possibly, either….I hope it’s not true. Most of the women in my life don’t challenge that suspicion, though.
A few days later I came across a piece by
called The woman I used to be… which also considers her relationship with her body and how it looks.I have also gained 7 kg in the last year. My body feels heavy. It puckers in places I did not know one could pucker. I have little rolls under the band of my bra. Sometimes I’ll be in the shower and feel a new hummock of flesh where there never used to be one. It is, in short, a body not ready for public consumption.
The comments sections on those articles were packed. It’s given me a lot to reflect on. My body image is not something I give much energy or thought to now. Though I guess it wasn’t always that way….
My body image through the ages
When I was around 12 I tried on a top in my mum’s friend’s kitchen. As I whipped off the one I was wearing she commented on my ‘lovely flat stomach’. I still recall being a bit bemused. I’d never considered the contours of my stomach before. It’s my first recollection of someone commenting on my body.
Except perhaps for my mum. She always told me I had a big bum. It is a wider-than-average bum, she isn’t wrong. She says she ‘told me how it was’ to normalise it, but it didn’t work. To me, the knowledge I had a big bum became a fact, as certain as day turns to night. And it bothered me.
Over the next few years, the wider world got into my head and, as a teenager, I had my hang-ups. My boobs were a bit too small, my bum definitely too big, my ankles a bit chunky, and my ears stuck out too much. In comparison to what? The prevailing standard of beauty at the time, which unfortunately for me was 90s ‘heroin chic’.
I’m somewhat bitter that I didn’t come of age in the 2010s when it became all about the booty. I would have been hotter! And maybe less self-conscious about how I looked in a pair of jeans.
I got several kilos heavier at Uni, thanks to the Oxford streets being dotted with nighttime kebab vans that served a mean cheesy chips. I did a student hair show for Vidal Sassoon and I distinctly remember feeling too chunky for the catwalk. Five years on, dressed as ‘catwoman’ at a house party, the cheesy chips had gone and (the photo would suggest) I was feeling more confident. Not incidentally, I was in training for the London Marathon.
By 30, my body was taken over by being pregnant. I didn’t like it. I wasn’t able to embrace the rapid changes at all well, and I wanted my body back. Not in the toxic ‘bounce back’ culture way. I just really wanted to feel like me again. The route to that was physical activity. Between and after pregnancies Deri taught me to powerlift. I did an intensive fitness course with Mother Fit. I joined a CrossFit gym.
Fit and strong I feel better. I’m struggling to figure out how much of the feeling better comes from thinking I look better when I’m fit and strong. Sadly, it probably does play a part.
Changing my relationship with my body
Even so, to answer to Mikala’s question, I don’t think I am too fucked up about my body now. Somewhere in the last few years I’ve come to view my body as a separate entity to me. Now I see it as my companion, my faithful servant and loyal friend. And in that light I try not to judge it, but give it respect and acceptance.
I’ve been wondering how that shift came about. There hasn’t been a lightbulb moment. But there are a number of things which may have played a part…
I realised I would have been hotter in the 2010s
Every decade has its own body ideal. And regardless of the decade I was born in, I would have had pretty much the same body. If your body shape matches the prevailing ideal of your time, then jackpot. Most people don’t hit the jackpot. There’s a great article on body ideals in Cosmo - read here.I swam naked in a public spa
When I was in my 20s, my parents lived in The Netherlands. On a visit there I went to a spa where the only option was to be naked. Once I’d swam a few lengths of naked breaststroke, alongside an also naked family of 5 chilling in a hot tub, I realised that body consciousness is a very cultural thing. And the British are particularly uptight. Be more Dutch.I married a good man
My body has been a lot of different things over the years, and Deri hasn’t said a bad word about any of them. In fact, he’s always found a positive. Even when I was twin-pregnant and 5 stone heavier, he celebrated the boobs. He has modelled acceptance and positivity, and that’s got to have helped.I had a daughter
I’m very aware that what I say about my body will become part of her script. I can’t stop the world from getting to her, but I can model an alternative. So I have some rules. I don’t do fad diets. I don’t talk about diets, only about staying healthy. I don’t talk about how my body looks, only what I’m grateful it can do. I think I’ve done that for long enough now that I’ve started to believe it too.I got thankful
I haven’t always looked after my body. I haven’t always nourished it. I have wished it different and wished it smaller. And yet it’s always shown up1. It’s let me play netball, climb mountains, dive in the oceans, and ride a bike. It’s grown me four beautiful children. It’s still showing up every day to carry me through life. If it’s a bit saggy and crinkled in places, I can forgive it for that. I’ve put it through a lot.
The wisdom of Emma Thompson
I love Emma Thompson. Aged 63, she starred in the mesmerising film, Good Luck to You, Leo Grande. I experienced it as a rallying cry to women to embrace their physicality before life passes them by. In the final scene, Emma stands naked in front of a mirror. She describes it as ‘the most difficult thing she’s ever done in her four-decade career’.2 But I’m so glad she went for it. It’s breathtaking and important.
And her personal reflections on body image couldn’t be more perfect.
Don’t waste your time. Don’t waste your life’s purpose worrying about your body. This is your vessel, it’s your house, it’s where you live. There’s no point in judging it.
How is it for you?
Please let me know. I’m really intrigued to know how usual my experience is.
How do you feel about your body?
Has your relationship with it changed over time?
If it has, what are the reasons for that?
Are you friends with your body?
Want some help feeling better about how you look?
I want to give a shout out to two businesses, started by women I know. Both have a mission to help other women feel great about their body image and grow in happiness and confidence.
Mother Fit
Online exercise programmes for all stages of motherhood. Whether you are pregnant, in the postpartum phase or years beyond, Michelle’s expert guidance and unwavering energy will have you working your way to feeling happier, healthier and more active. Access the classes wherever and whenever it suits you for a few £s a week. I can personally vouch for Mother Fit getting results around a busy life where flexibility is key. Check it out here and sign up for a free trial. She knows her stuff!
Joyfully Dressed
An online course which promises you a ‘more joyful wardrobe’ in 5 weeks. Learn to dress for your body shape, your life, and in colours that make you feel great. Be guided by the infectiously joyful Rebecca, a twin mum and Style Coach who will inject you with confidence. Your membership also makes you part of the wonderfully supportive community she has created. Link to the Joyfully Dressed website here or discover more on Instagram.
The notable exception being my complete inability to do a pull-up, handstand or anything else that falls into the category of ‘gymnastics’.
Thanks so much for shouting me out, Jo, and for this lovely and thoughtful piece. I really connected with this line: “I’m struggling to figure out how much of the feeling better comes from thinking I look better when I’m fit and strong.”
I think that all the time. I’m not sure I see it as shallow or some kind of total buy-in to a beauty standard. I think I look better when I’m fit and strong because I actually know I’m happier. I’m less stressed. I’m better slept. I’m usually drinking less. I’m calmer. I have to believe this just lends a certain… glow. If that makes me feel good, I’ll take it. I spent too many years feeling bad to get too hung up in it. ❤️