I am a 34 year old man who has struggled with my weight and body hair issues for my whole adult life. It has, at times, seemed like I am trapped at the bottom of a dark hole with no way out.
I’ve got stretch scars. I have scars from ingrown hairs where I have tried repeatedly to shave or wax the parts of me I have trouble with. Tears and ache and sadness and anger…
…and I’ve learned only one thing through it all: You can’t love your body using hate as your guide.
Over the years I have tried turning the phrase “stuck with this body” into something positive: Not every speck of stardust gets to be me, not every thread of consciousness gets to experience the universe the way I do and it’s up to me to show the lucky bits of the cosmos who make me up the best me possible.
Make it your mantra. Make it the thing you say instead of “I wish I were different.”
This is a piece that took me months and months to work on regarding my own self-image issues. It touches on the bologna we are taught in terms of the beauty standard and the distaste of vanity. (lose/lose) Have a go if you like. :)
Hey you beautiful people! This is me in my body I’ve just started to love.
Since elementary school I’ve been that chubby kid that the others have judged by her looks. It was hard for a 7-year-old me to handle all the comments and personal problems at home… It lead to exclusion and self-hatred. Like it wasn’t enough, in 7th grade my “friends” and parents started to comment my weight. Even my nurse was proud of me when I managed to lose a couple pounds.
Finally, after moving away and going to high school where I’m accepted as who I am, I became more self-confident. Last summer I noticed that I didn’t hide my body under oversized clothes anymore. Using tank tops and skinny jeans is totally fine now. But the thing that really opened my eyes happened this fall when my friend said that I’m not any heavier than couple of my other friends even I had always thought so.
So, believe me, YOU are beautiful, I am beautiful, EVERYONE is beautiful!
I used to be insecure with my body, especially during middle school. I’m 20 now and have only recently begun to love my body. I still have moments where I think that my tummy sticks out too much or my thighs are too big, but I try instead to think about the things I love about myself, like my smarts or sense of humor, or that my body does so much for me without thanks. It has also helped to realize that most people in the worlddon’t actually pay that much attentionto me, and my weird cowlick or pimple on my face undoubtedly went unnoticed this morning. I’ve realized that it’s much less stressful to accept who I am than it is worrying about all the things I could ever think to change.
Loving yourself isn’t easy, it takes a lot of time unlearning the societal constructs that are in place to tell you you’re not worthy. It also takes a lot of time to unlearn what your own mind has done to trick you.
Loving yourself starts with finding positivity in the little things that you like about yourself and slowly building on them, surrounding yourself with people who see those good things (even if you can’t see them yet) and getting rid of those who are toxic and add to your self hate.
Loving yourself means making a conscious effort every day to try and find SOMETHING you like about yourself even if it’s not physical.
Loving yourself means realizing you are worth happiness, love, affection and kindness and you deserve every bit of that.
You are beautiful and you are amazing and sometimes it takes work to see that- but it can happen.
I needed medicine, and having not been out of the house since a restaurant visit, I insist that I go and pick up my own meds while my mom does the household shopping. American one stop shop megastore abilities were going to come into play.
I woke up feeling great, and while waiting for my mom to come home, I prepped for this trip. I would be the best looking girl in WalMart, oxygen tank or no. I did my hair and makeup better than for prom and walked out the door feeling like a million bucks.
My mom disappeared off with her shopping list and I headed for the pharmacy, put in my perscriptions, then settled in on a bench between two little old men to wait for my name to be called.
The bench was near the waiting line, and one of the customers was there with a little girl. She sort of was staring at me, confused. I can understand that. I was younger than her mother, sitting there with a bizarre metal tank and a plastic tube coming out of my nose. Trying not to scare her, I flashed a smile, and waved with my fingers.
She returned the smile and went back to standing there, but soon was looking at me again. By this point, she had moved up in line away from me with her mother. I saw her tug on her mother’s arm and ask “Why does that lady have that?”
The mom glanced at me and said “That’s why you shouldn’t smoke. She’s sick because she smoked.” and went back to staring forward. The little girl continued to stare at me.
I was conflicted. On one hand, I got it. I come from a family where things were told with cautionary tales—the kid who drowned from playing on thin ice, the guy who lost fingers messing with power tools. And I’m sure that I struck a memorable figure, and would have left an impression that, maybe, would keep her from smoking.
On the other hand, it’s just not true—I didn’t smoke. I’ve never smoked. I was born with asthma, and I’ve never done anything that caused this to happen to me. This was something that I’ve just had to live with for no reason other than a poor lot in genetics.
But by blaming it on smoking, the mother hasn’t left room for that option. It may seem small, but it’s precedent setting. In that child’s world, bad things happen to people who have done bad actions. And therefore anyone with anything wrong with them is in some way a bad person and somehow deserving of their fate.
It sets up a world where you don’t need to have empathy for others, or make allocations for them. After all, it’s their own fault that things ended up this way! And by extension people with good fortunes have gotten that way due to virtue and not simple good luck.
It may seem a mountain out of a molehill, but it seemed to me such a moment of revelation. It seemed to explain the lack of empathy I’ve recieved lately, and made me question how other people viewed me.
Hey all! I wrote a blog post last year around the holidays just as a reminder. I know the holidays can be a struggle for those with disordered eating or negative body image, and I wanted to give a little advice to hopefully make it easier for those who struggle with family members, food, and awkward questions.
You deserve to have an AMAZING holiday season, and I hope these pointers help!
Hello! I love this blog, but it's mostly girls, and that's fine! My question is, are there any male-centered body positive blogs, or anything like that that you know of? I notice a lot of guys don't like their bodies but don't say anything because they don't think it's 'normal' or whatevs
Tonight myself & a friend were driving home & discussing confidence.
It’s the thing people tend to notice most about me (or so I hear)… how confident Elle is. How vibrant and gregarious. How I don’t seem to hold back in social situations.
It’s a really weird thing, because inside I’m constantly analysing everything, how people look at me, do they like me? Am I too quiet? Do they notice me? Am I LIKED?
I’ve never been popular. Ever. In school I used to hide in the hallways because I couldn’t handle being constantly beaten up or tormented. The highlight of my education was probably having a bag of crisps poured over my head first thing in the morning. I also missed my school prom out of fear for what would happen if I went. I had no real friends- plain and simple.
I now have friends, and amazing ones at that, but I still can’t handle the pressure of being truly myself- even though that should be the easiest thing in the world.
So, what do I do? I become silly, hyper, loud and confident. I become a huge version of myself. It’s not faking it, as such, it’s just enhancing. Almost like becoming a caricature of all my best bits.
So, I guess the deep meaningful message behind this post doesn’t really exist. But I just wanted to share one of my favourite quotes:
What other people think of you really isn’t your business.
Try not to get caught up in this, or finding it out. Just do your best to be yourself and leave the bullies and all their damage caused in the history of the school halls.