Recently I was asked for a photograph to accompany a story, and not the usual tiny head shot, but a more visible image that was appropriate to the theme of the tale I was telling.
The picture needed to include me with the man I’m seeing. And I fretted over it, but not only because I prefer to play the wizard behind the curtain, allowing words and ideas to take center stage, but for other reasons.
Besides, once we know what someone looks like – or think we know – aren’t we influenced in a variety of ways no matter how hard we try not to be?
Don’t we respond differently to the tall man over the short one, the pretty woman over the plain one, and of course – the thinner subject over her pudgier counterpart?
Don’t we all judge by appearance?
What You See is Not Necessarily What You Get
Visual impressions matter, don’t they? We dismiss the serious side of life for those who beam a 100-watt smile, and we’re challenged to imagine romance or adventure for those whose faces are heavily lined by age.
If I offered up a photograph taken of me some 15 years ago (and 40 pounds heavier), your impression would be quite different than if you saw me today. For that matter, if I presented an image at a scrawny 92 pounds as my divorce raged on, you’d probably consider me frail, even sickly.
At the time, my own perception alternated between “at last, I’m thin” and the more tangible realization of my physical and emotional fragility.
As for the photograph I needed to run with a little love story at Purple Clover, I poured through files on my hard drive. My guy looked great in every shot. But me? That was another story. The first thought that came to mind was this: Which picture makes me look the thinnest? My next thought: Do I choose one in which my body looks trim even if my face looks puffy? Do I go for angular cheekbones over swelling hips or vice versa?
Ultimately, maturity prevailed. I chose the picture that was the most us – smiling and playful.
Lifelong Battles with Body Image
Given my lifelong battles with weight and body image, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that going through picture after picture, if the subject is yours truly, I see fat people. Me – fat, though I know I’m a normal size for my height, my sex, and my age – and I don’t experience this same phenomenon when looking at others. If anything, I prefer both men and women with “real” bodies, and a little substance on their frames.
Yet despite beating back the bad behaviors and self-sabotaging esteem issues that follow, the shadow of overweight periodically reappears. I may or may not see myself clearly at those times, but I know that I feel better when I’m thinner. I feel stronger and more confident. I feel more deserving of good things in my life – and that’s the kicker that is off, very off. We should always feel deserving of good things in life, and treating ourselves respectfully.
To my surprise, eating disorders don’t necessarily abate as we grow older. In fact, this Psych Central article highlights the continuing issues that women face when it comes to food and unhealthy eating behaviors.
Women, Eating Disorders, Statistics
Certainly concerning, Psych Central writer Therese Borchard cites the following statistics:
95 percent of those who have eating disorders are between the ages of 12 and 25; 50 percent of girls between the ages of 11 and 13 see themselves as overweight
These are frightening figures, especially considering the devastating health impacts that can result, not to mention the preoccupation with weight and appearance that lodges itself in the mind and persists for decades. How is it that we haven’t made more progress?
And yet –
… an increasing number of middle-aged and older women are suffering from eating disorders, as well… Statistics may lie about just how many women develop eating disorders later in their lives because the illness often goes undiagnosed by doctors…
Ms. Borchard goes on to cite a study which:
suggests that the desire to be thin never fades. Some of the women may actually be experiencing recurrences of eating disorders they suffered from in their teens, 20s, or 30s… Others may have had continuous problems throughout their lifetimes…
My Body, My Selves?
I ate erratically as a child, following in the footsteps of an obese mother who chose food as her source of comfort, exacerbating the unhappiness associated with her size. Along with the binges, there were diets in secret, miles walked in the pre-dawn hours (to work off food from the day before), days in which I starved myself entirely, and periods that were relatively free of anything other than “normal” eating.
When I dieted or starved myself, whatever I lost was regained – and more. May we all join hands and sing a chorus of Yo-Yo Diet?
Fortunately, healthy food was consumed regularly at our 1960s and 1970s dinner table, and I brought that preference for well-rounded and nutritional eating into later stages in life. But with it I also carried other patterns into stressful times – bingeing, extreme exercising, and fasting – behaviors that persisted for 30 years and possibly longer. Meanwhile, I remain suggestible to less than healthy habits, particularly when sleep deprived.
Although I gained a great deal of weight during my pregnancies and had difficulty losing it, I did – eventually – though only the “Divorce Diet” knocked all of it off, and more. In a few years time, I returned to that “normal” range where no one would call me thin, but nor would they say I was fat.
How Many of Us “See Fat People?”
I still have days when I look in the mirror and I see fat, I feel fat, and I am as desirous of being thin as I was at 16 or 26, or 36 following my first pregnancy. If I eat so much as a potato chip or two, or for that matter, indulge in a delectable few bites of dark chocolate, then I’m mired in guilt, self-loathing, and right back where I was 15 or more years ago.
It’s as though the erratic eating is institutionalized in my psyche and my body, in my personal body politic, and try as I might to chase it away with good habits and the reality check of my “skinny” jeans, only in another culture – France – does the preoccupation with my body size disappear entirely.
We know that the stigma of being fat (and the fat self-image?) lingers, even after losing enormous amounts of weight. Remember the research data referenced in The Fat Fake-Out?
Will I always be subject to the not so fun “fun house mirror” when it comes to body image? For all the progress I’ve made, I wonder.
Some days, the shadow of those negative fat feelings returns with a vengeance. It darkens my perspective on everything: I am the fat child, the fat teenager, the fat 20-something or 30-something who feels invisible and unworthy of love. Other days, there is no shadow, and I celebrate those days and reinforce them through good habits, not to mention getting out of my own head – and backing away from the mirror.
But I wonder how many more women feel as I do – embarrassed to admit that while they may have beaten back their eating demons, they’ve never conquered them entirely. Like me, they’re hungry to shuffle through pictures of themselves and not judge based on whether or not they “look fat.”
You May Also Enjoy
I feel for people who can’t get past the body cards they are dealt. Don’t get me wrong, at 6’4″ and 200 lbs, I never like pictures of me. But since I really don’t care (witness the often messy hair in my pics), it isn’t an issue for me.
Personally, I go for the quality of the intercourse vs. the looks of a friend. If a person is uneducated, unread, and basically ignorant, well… let’s just say I probably don’t have a relationship with that person. And if the person is wickedly funny, insightful, and interesting, all bets are off about how they look. No, really.
Maybe I’m an anomaly. But I have to say, I am surround by people who seem to feel the same way. Be well Wolfie.
You may be an anomaly, Gandalfe. Like you, I judge by quality, which has little (if anything) to do with looks whatsoever. But I judge myself more harshly, even as I do so less often and with less intensity.
I imagine this is a ripe topic for many women. As someone who has also battled with her weight, it certainly is for me. Thankfully, I have learned to see myself with some objectivity. I know that I am not fat. In fact, I am pretty thin. And if the scale begins to creep up a pound or two (or even five) I know that still doesn’t constitute “fat.” But I also know that it isn’t what makes me happy. So I now couch my weight in those terms – what makes me happy. I know I am healthy at this weight, my clothes are tailored to fit me at this weight, and I feel good about myself at this weight. So this is the weight I work to maintain (and it’s a pretty natural weight for me).
I think we have to be careful, though, categorizing some people’s bodies as more “real” than others. Just because a body is thin, or extremely fit, or naturally lithe doesn’t mean it isn’t real. And people who work (or don’t work) to maintain slim figures should not have their bodies disparaged any more than people whose insecurities stem from the opposite issue. The point here is to accept everyone as they are while still striving for the improved health of our country as a whole. Cherry-picking which people deserve our acceptance misses the point.
I’m glad you picked the fun and playful photo. It sounds like it was the best reflection of you both anyway!
Excellent point, Gale, about those at the other end of the spectrum who are naturally trim or thin. They may take some grief of another sort.
Would you please get out of my head? After achieving my weight-loss goals last year, many times I still find myself obsessing over how many of this or that I eat. I know white sugar and white flour are not my friends. I’m happier with photos of myself now….if only I could get rid of those wrinkles….On the flip side, I thought the photo you chose for your Purple Clover story was adorable! And he looked good too. 🙂
Ha! I’d like to take a vacation from my own head, Lisa… What I find interesting though is that I lose these preoccupations with body image and eating entirely… when I’m in France. In other words, another cultural reality seems to reinforce less body self-consciousness and more enjoyment of food, at least for me. And that has remained true since my first living experience there when I was a teen.
I admit that I worry about the fact that our bad habits (junk food, fast food, excessive work hours) seem to be spreading to that lovely country: French women fear fat, too.
Thank you for the kind words on the pic at Purple Clover! 🙂
The photo you selected is wonderful! I love photos that convey mood and action. You both radiate happiness and ease with each other.
I loved that photo! I also (sadly) related to every word of this post.
You look great in that photo. Not sure why they needed it though. I thought that was a bit creepy, but then I’m funny that way. I post pictures of myself very occasionally on my blog. I don’t want to hide but I’m not thrilled with my weight just now and in any event I’m not one to say ‘look at me’ all the time – that’s boring. I’m coming to some acceptance of what a nearly-60 year old body looks like, but I’m also making an effort to eat healthier and I’m back to running (no, that would be jogging or trudging, let’s be right about it) a few miles most days. I feel stronger even if the scales aren’t giving me any rewards just yet. I’m pretty sure what I’ve just typed is an echo of most of the other words on this page…
I agree with every word you said about women obsessing over their own body image. I think once I heard someone tell me I was big for my age the paranoia began. And, it continues. Lifelong battle with not being thin enough for myself. Believe me, I’ve always looked great, but that doesn’t stop making me from wishing I were thinner, etc. I’m hoping to survive to an age where I will no longer care and I can finally relax!!
I know, I KNOW. I always feel this. So sad.
Whew, I agree with Lisa–get out of my head already!
This is such a charged issue for me. I too, had to choose a photo of myself this week–mine for a guest post–and it is no coincidence that I picked one where my body is literally covered with my two huge dogs laying on top of me and the lighting is low. It says “look at them! Not at me!”…
Before gaining thirty pounds, I would look in the mirror and think, “I see wrinkled people”. I have a really deep lines between my eyes that even Botox can’t help thanks to major jaw issues. For years, that is all that I saw, it defined how I thought of myself. Of course, no one saw it as I did.
Now that I have gained weight, THAT is what I see. Isn’t that sad? You have given me something to think about…as you often do.
And I have said this here before but I have not had the same experience in France as you have. I really feel that when women are overweight here (which is rare), they are no longer considered desirable at all. I see it in not only in how men now look (or don’t look) at me but also in how they interact with others and the women are ruthless on this subject…
Like Gandalfe, I really could care less about the outside of my companion’s (let’s say that is a “bonus”) if the insides click, so why can’t I be kinder to myself?
PS. Yes, that photo is fantastic of you both!
Ditto, ditto and ditto to the photo of you a Purple Clover being adorable. Joyful. I’ve been beating myself up lately because of what I’m blaming on post menopausal weight gain around the middle. And then I stop and think, why? Why to I berate the body that has served me so well, born children, carried me over trails and travels and ski slopes and waterways, hiked mountains, savored food, made love and all the pleasures involved there, listened to music – from symphonies to theater to the Eagles under stars, and speaking of stars, eyes to gaze at them and take in unbelievable natural beauties, smelled fragrant lavender and peonies, and on and on and on?
Why is the particular weight it carries something to beat it up over? You make me, or remind me, I want to go pick up that book, Women, Food and God – I just saw it on a sale rack yesterday and passed it by.
Have you read it? There are chapters like, “reteaching loveliness.” We need to perceive that differently toward ourselves, don’t we? And I’m with you – I’m gentle and not that concerned with others’ appearance, but beat myself up with each pudge or wrinkle, age spot or dimpled spot of cellulite. It’s certainly not gratitude for how well a body has served me for 55 years.
Barbara, I look at you, I look at Heather, I look at the other women who have left comments. I see their beauty – and yours – in their writing. That we all carry this sense of “not good enough” when we put on weight (or feel as though we have) is ludicrous. And yet it’s there. Always there. For some of us, more or less at different times, but especially as we get a little older and our bodies don’t respond to the discipline we still exert, we feel like less when we ought to be celebrating still being here!
I haven’t read the book you mention. I look forward to hearing more about it.
Dear Big Little Wolf,
I had to go check the picture and the article and then finished this one. You look amazing in that picture, happy, and that’s all I really see! We are so harsh with ourselves. My little brother was once quite round around the middle and took to wearing suspenders and “old man” properly tailored pants. He couldn’t keep the women away :-). I wish we could do the same all the time! Thank you for more wonderful writing in both stories.
Wolf, you look fab in that photo.
In the last year, after watching my mother endure rehab for knee replacement surgery, I’ve decided that I want a body that is strong. Fitness means being able to do pull-ups, situps, and planks with my own body weight. Do I still obsess about how I look on certain days? Of course. But as I get older, I am trying to redirect my goals on function rather than appearance.