The first time a man seemed to enjoy my body – truly enjoy my body – I must have been pushing thirty. He was European, he had a passion for life, a passion for passion – and a definite hankering for yours truly.
Yet the fact that he loved to touch me and admire me came as a surprise. Looking back, I’m shaking my head. I had young skin, voluptuous curves, and generally kept myself a fit size 10. This was before pregnancies, before any signs of aging, and before weight gain and loss that invariably affects older skin.
My surprise is joined by sorrow. All those years wasted, on body hatred.
At a size 10, I was convinced I was overweight. I was self-conscious about my figure – in part the legacy of being put on diets from the age of six, a yo-yo history through adolescence and college, and years of dance class in which starvation was expected. And, I was the daughter of an obese woman. She was 250 pounds and 5’1″ tall.
Everyone was afraid I would turn out like my mother.
Cultural Impacts on Weight and Body Image
Though I was not a fat child, I was always on a diet. Yet each time I went to France, as a teen or an adult, my body self-consciousness lifted.
I ate more, I ate guilt-free, I ate with pleasure, and I lost weight. But more than anything, I was comfortable in my body.
Perhaps because of that, combined with cultural differences, I was greeted differently as a woman – and responded in kind. I was a person, a total package, and not some collection of scrutinized parts – none of which means there wasn’t mutual enjoyment involving all the sensory and the sensual.
Fast forward through decades of body obsession in my own country, eventual marriage, and putting on weight with two pregnancies one right after the other. Getting the weight off?
Not so simple, as over the years I came to understand in how many ways fat truly is a feminist issue – and so much more than that. Especially in the U.S.
Gaining is Easy; Losing is Tough
Gaining weight with pregnancies?
I tried to pay attention, but I put on a lot. Though I worked at losing it, I never looked explicitly at my lifestyle or marriage as having a hand in both the cause and potential solution. I never considered the impact of sleep deprivation (three or four hours of sleep a night was my norm), a traveling husband (I carried the lion’s share of the domestic load), and a demanding job (often working while the household slept).
I wished my spouse were around more, but he was never cruel about my heavier self, which – as I make that statement – reflects my own feeling that he would have been justified, if he had been.
Imagine that. Imagine thinking that.
I blamed myself and myself only for not losing weight. I made it back to a 14 and then a 12, and eventually a size 10. But I was a six when we married. I didn’t feel good about myself at a 10. But the final pounds didn’t drop away until the stress of an exploding marriage – and the Divorce Diet.
Marriage, Divorce, the Divorce Diet
No, it wasn’t intentional. In roughly a month I dropped to 92 pounds and was suddenly a size zero. I was stunned at the admiring glances, not to mention the praise I received from everyone I knew. Even my estranged husband – then – made remarks at what he had “put up with,” and now that we were divorcing, I looked like “that.”
Had he been holding his tongue for years, and in that moment of honesty, expressed his true feelings?
“That” which he commented on – was emaciation.
I felt frail and breakable, vulnerable and emotionally exposed. I missed the safety that weight provides – even if only 10 more pounds. The extra I carried in those last years of marriage? Was it a buffer against the pain I couldn’t confront in the relationship?
Curvy Bodies, Healthy Bodies
My personal Divorce Diet was a dozen years ago, and I’m a healthy (but curvy) size four or six. I’m neither fat nor thin; I fall squarely in the middle of “normal” weight and BMI for my age and height. But I think back on any variation of a younger, firmer body and I rue the waste of years of yo-yo diets, the energy of self-hatred, the legacy of self-consciousness, and the shadow of never feeling “good enough.”
I recall the French men in my life who enjoyed my voluptuous figure. I think of the good French man in my life now, who sees me as beautiful through eyes of love – even as I work, daily, to see myself in the same way.
I realize that my own journey of body image and self-esteem is far from over. I eat well and exercise when I can, as both are a matter of health more than anything else. But they’re also about retaining a sense of feeling womanly and attractive. I like feeling attractive, and I’m more myself when I fit the clothes I love, and when I am “bien dans ma peau” – comfortable in my skin – even this older skin, as I take care to honor my body.
Turn Body-Hatred into Body Acceptance (and Maybe Self-Love?)
I will not pretend that honoring my body is easy. We perpetuate cultural values in which standards of “beauty” are neither natural nor achievable – with no such thing as “thin enough” for certain demographics.
We consume packaged foods that are laced with addicting sugar and salt, we maintain sky high stress levels in a challenging economy, and work-life expectations do a number on both women and men. Yet it’s the women, primarily, whom we judge on appearance.
We have far to go when it comes to the emotional issues, double standards, and body hatred we cultivate in our homes and our media. No wonder food is an issue in marriage, first as a symptom – and for many, becoming a problem of its own – a health problem, and a hindrance to intimacy.
Of course, whereas we hated our “fat” selves when we were younger, how many of us now buy into hating our “aging” bodies? Is this really any different – as we turn to the cosmetic surgeon, rather than running to the diet doctor? What would it take for us to love ourselves as we are?
On that note, please stop by the Huffington Post and read about the role of weight gain in marriage and divorce. Pay attention to the remarks that are referenced in the article. Offer your opinion there or here, and let’s share our stories so we may shed the obsessive preoccupation with appearance, focus instead on healthier habits, living a vibrant life, and working to build substantive relationships. Let’s stop buying into our own body hatred.
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YES:
“My surprise is joined by sorrow. All those years wasted, on body hatred.”
I recently looked back on photos of myself from 10-12 years ago and was surprised at how positively I viewed them. I actually thought I was beautiful. And yet I remember *so* distinctively the self-loathing I once had when I looked at those same pictures: why my chipmunk cheeks weren’t a certain way, why my hair or teeth weren’t a certain way…now I just notice how radiant my skin had been and those chipmunk cheeks? I should look at myself now.
I see from your story that your mother impacted your self image and I believe that is where it starts for a lot of women (and perhaps even men, with their fathers). I was interviewed for a doctoral student’s dissertation on body image once, and she said that the world can tell you you’re beautiful but if your mother tells you otherwise, you will believe your mother. That was certainly the case for me.
I have actually always been thin but I am not sure if it helped me much in the area of self esteem. I didn’t get praise or words of admiration from others. On the contrary, resentful girlfriends felt they had license to say things to me like I would never be able to have children. My male friends were great. They never remarked on my appearance unless it was complimentary (and in an appropriate way). I was a perpetual size 2 with the self esteem of any unattractive person.
We can blame the media and men for their unrelenting pressures on women to look good. I also think that we as women friends and mothers can do better.
I couldn’t agree more, @C – “…I also think that we as women friends and mothers can do better.”
Absolutely.
I tell people who are camera shy to get over it. Even if they hate the way they look now, in 10 years they’ll look back and think they looked pretty good. That’s my experience anyhow. I’ve never been completely satisfied with my figure, but I’ve not really hated it until I went to buy a bra a few weeks ago. I hadn’t realised how much I’d avoided mirrors lately and I was shocked by what I saw. I didn’t even manage to find a bra. I told myself I was too tired and I went home. I’ve been back and made the purchase since then, with the help of an expert fitter. I thought about that image in the mirror for a few days before I remembered that I will be 57 in a few months. What did I realistically expect? I still would like to be in the middle of my healthy weight range instead of at the very top, but I don’t expect – or wish – to be really skinny again. I always enjoyed it but I don’t think it would suit me now. As for people complaining about their spouse’s weight, if the weight isn’t endangering their health, I don’t figure it should be an issue. Anyone who marries someone else purely for how they look, well, they can’t be much of a catch themselves.
@Shelley, Thanks for jumping in on this one. It’s so hard with media telling us that 50 is the new 40, 60 is the new 50, etc. etc. etc. And then there are the Photoshopped images everywhere – even of the 20-somethings!
We really do need to take care of ourselves to the extent that we can (it can be more difficult in this country, if you don’t have the means). We really do need to take that approach that you speak of – more positive and recognizing what we DO have – and that in ten years time we’ll look back and say “Hey! That was good then!”
And we need to view aging as natural.
Aging well? Of course! But skinny isn’t “normal” for most of us. Skinny surely isn’t normal after childbirth or with menopause. Accident, illness, medication, stress – all of these factors play into our appearance as well as overall health. Why we can’t see it and not judge it – unless to ameliorate an originating problem – I simply don’t understand.
This I will say: Most of us want our sex lives to remain vibrant. Aging (with or without weight gain) may undermine our confidence. All the more reason for as much emotional connection to our mates as possible, and getting creative where appropriate and necessary. Feeling badly about our bodies has to be a real turnoff to men.
Can’t think I’d like to hear my guy say: “Does my ass look fat in these Levis?”
Ignore the detractors; listen to the supporters. Confidence is everything.
“Nothing makes a woman more beautiful than the belief that she is beautiful.”
– Sophia Loren US (Italian-born) movie actress (1934 – )
I think our obsession with appearance—it’s hysteria, if you measure it—cuts across gender lines. I’m a man and loathe my body and always have. I have never believed women who tell me I’m physically attractive; I assumed they were simply trying to trick me, to “boost my confidence”. All of this has to do with my abusive upbringing, my socialization in an environment that set obscene boundaries. While I believe my wife is attracted to me physically, I also think there are other things about me that are more important for her, and rightly so. I feel the same way about her. She’s a talented artist with a brilliant sense of humor and a sweetness that’s impossible to measure, a compassion for people that humbles me. I didn’t fall in love with her because she was gorgeous. And the first time I saw her, she was dressed in shitty jeans and a t-shirt, wearing socks that didn’t match, cooking pasta with her hair all over the fucking place. She asked me for vodka.
We perpetuate cultural values in which standards of “beauty” are neither natural nor achievable
Sadly, this is soooooo very true…for both genders. I’ve noticed that I’m viewed differently when around strangers after losing 30 pounds. There are more smiles, glances and nods. And if I was younger, I probably would let it go to my head. But having been on both sides of that fence, I find it almost insulting. After all, I’m the same person on the inside. I lost because I didn’t like the way I felt physically, not because of some cultural expectation. I’m glad I did it and work hard to maintain the size I am now. But it’s for me…no one else. I kinda like shopping for new clothes…and, of course, shoes to match!!
I can so relate to this! I’ve had my fair share of struggles. From a culture that’s also weight-obsessive and full of thin women, putting on my “freshmen 15” when I came to the States and then going home to disapproving tongues (yes, they didn’t hold them) did a number on my self-esteem.
It was also the beginning of years of body image issues and an eating disorder. I hate that these expectations, and worse, the words that accompany them, doled out by people who think nothing of how they would impact others, have so much power over us. But we’re all victims of the media where beauty is portrayed a certain way, and as an impressionable young adult, I bought into all of it.
It wasn’t until I gave birth to my first girl that I started to realize I can’t possibly have her go through what I did. I stopped obsessing about my body, and instead, began to respect it for what it can do – create life. My second girl even gave me the dreaded stretch marks but instead of lamenting the loss of elasticity and the appearance of smooth, youthful skin, I celebrate my role as their mother. I believe it was Kate Winslet who said that we should say out loud, how we love the way we look, in front of our kids, so they may learn to embrace and love their own bodies too. And I did that. It felt a little awkward, but my daughter beamed at me. And she agreed. It was wonderful.
Last year, I started running, and while it helped shed a few pounds, it really wasn’t the reason why I started in the first place. I wanted my girls to see me active and to think that exercise is part of life’s regular routines, and I think it’s working. My 4yo wants to run with me in the spring, and I can’t wait.
I can’t protect my girls from every thoughtless, negative comment about how they look, but I can at least help them build their confidence now so it would take a lot for anyone to take them down.
As a parent, that’s about the best we can do isn’t it?
It’s hard. I’m far tougher on myself than anyone else. It’s MY voice that’s the most critical. And that’s pretty dang sad.
I am not sure how we ever escape this whole self judgement and woman to woman judgement about our bodies, but it is a killer and depletes our creative energy to live life full out. I wrote a chapter in my book called: “Nix the Female Culture of Flaws!” decrying this tremendous waste of what we are all capable of by “spending” our lives focused on the perfect body, the perfect weight, the perfect anything!—very toxic and insidious because women hand it down generation to generation, to daughters, nieces, and adult woman to adult woman. Like most things, the “cure” lies with those who perpetuate the “wound”, so women are the healers of each other in this. We are not victims to culture or media and the male opinion of who we are. We are, however, greatly affected by each other. The remedy starts by being aware when we compete with each other, shame each other, discount each other as not good enough. It takes great awareness and humility, but women can change this. First “I” must care enough to do so and to agree to walk in appreciation of myself and point out to every woman I meet something truly honestly great about her that is not focused on the physical. Did you ever see the cartoon of Buddha sitting in meditation and saying in a “thought bubble”: “I hate my thighs!” It is this ridiculous isn’t it?
We do indeed hand it down from generation to generation, Morgana. And yes, the shaming must stop.
I haven’t seen that Buddha cartoon, but the thought of it makes me chuckle…
It’s such an incredible waste of time and joy. And yes, we’ll never be younger than we are right now. So enjoy it now.
Time and joy. Yes!
Oh I wish that I could take in Barbara’s words. In my head I know that she is right but in my heart…I am struggling so much with my weight right now. I was always thin, I took it for granted and thought that I would age just like my Mom and Sister who both look AMAZING for their age. Well, looks like I got my Dad’s genes and I won’t say it hasn’t been hard. I eat well, I workout…I am trying to be more accepting. And kinder to myself…
And the idea that 40 is the new 20? I don’t feel that way at all.