BY: OLIVIA WHITE
FEATURES EDITOR
I remember getting dressed to go out one Saturday night earlier in the year, a warmer time when exposing skin to the Canton elements wouldn’t result in immediate frostbite. My roommates, both swimmers and both very fit, and I proposed various combinations of shorts, blouses, skirts, and tank tops to one another, asking for opinions, complimenting each other’s tastes in clothing, and making frequent stops in front of the daunting full length mirror on the bathroom door.
“I need something that doesn’t make my shoulders look massive,” my roommate commented, inspecting her reflection. I have since become very aware of the “curse” of the swimmers’ shoulders. They have caused us to retake group photos in order for one of my swimmer friends to reposition and correct the “massive-ness” of her shoulders. I never really notice. Perhaps it’s because one woman’s idea of strength is another’s source of insecurity. Perhaps it’s because I’m too terrified by the shape of my legs in the same photo to notice anything else.
Body dysmorphia plagues males and females alike. It’s that feeling of panic when you look in a mirror, notice an unsavory curve in your nose or a patch of cellulite on the back of your thigh, and allow your mind to augment the feature until it becomes a deformity of sorts. Just how drastic this skewed perception of a personal flaw is varies from person to person. For some, it’s a momentary insecurity- we look in the mirror, frown at the size of our shoulders, cast the thought aside, and move on with our day. For others, the imperfections in the mirror are mentally consuming- we let them infect our minds and shape how we treat our bodies. People on the more severe end of the spectrum suffer from what the Anxiety and Depression Association of America classify as “body dysmorphic disorder.” According to the association’s website, sufferers of BDD “can’t control their negative thoughts” regarding a physical defect, even if “the perceived defect may only be a slight imperfection or nonexistent.” It is coupled with anxiety and it is no surprise that people with body dysmorphic disorder seek to correct their flaws by resorting to extreme measures, such a anorexia, bulimia, or plastic surgery.
Despite the general consensus that women (and men) should disregard unrealistic portrayals of the human body and recent pushes toward increased body appreciation (see Aerie’s “no-retouching” policy on their bra and underwear models), the media, as well as weight loss and “healthy lifestyle” advocacy companies, thrive on our insecurities. Women’s and men’s magazines, such as Women’s Health, Shape, and Men’s Health profit off of our beliefs that the content in their publications will help us get a “slim sexy body” or “perfect skin,” or that the secrets contained in their folds will “strip away fat.” With false promises and astonishing before and after testimonial photos, they bombard us with the message that changing ourselves is necessary to feeling good about ourselves. There are numerous programs, from Weight Watchers to Jenny Craig to the beach-babe bombshell promise of the South Beach Diet, that corroborate this message and offer (often unrealistic) methods of embodying it. In effect, they are selling and perpetuating our own insecurities and profiting off of our self-perceived and self-accentuated defects. Think of the money Men’s Health would lose if Average Joe and his buddies one day decided that they didn’t need to “get ripped RIGHT NOW” and “build BIGGER arms” because they were happy with their current appearances. Body dysmorphia has become an industry. Self-improvement is perfectly fine, but not at the expense of our sanity.
There are ways to combat these intense feelings of insecurity when you’re face to face with an unfavorable reflection in the mirror. Jamie Pouliot, LCMHC and LMHC at the Couples Counseling Center in Northampton, MA, suggests thought replacement. When your mind says, “Oh my God when did my thighs get so massive? Have these love handles always been there? How much would it cost to get a boob job?” deny yourself the opportunity to indulge these notions and, instead, remember a time when your legs helped you dance until two in the morning with your friends. Deep breathes can work miracles. Remind yourself that, in that moment, you’re okay. Then call your mother, write a letter to your grandfather, or get coffee with a friend.
The truth is, a person is not a number on a scale. A person is not a jeans size. A person is not the amount of weight he or she loses in a month or a stretch mark on his or her butt. A person is a poet, a wrestler, a bird-watching enthusiast, or a phenomenal kisser. When we focus in on and obsess over our flaws, we allow them to become us and vice versa. We discount what makes us human.
When my roommates ask about the shape of their shoulders, I will remind them that those shoulders allowed them to achieve their personal best times in their events in States just last week. When I glance in the mirror and want to cringe at the appearance of my legs in a pair of leggings, I’ll remind myself that those legs helped me run my first half marathon a little over a year ago and have carried me through many miles since.
In the face of media and societal pressures to change our bodies to fit specific, nearly impossible ideals of beauty and attractiveness, it is incredibly brave to look in a mirror and love the things that some might deem “flawed.” Commend yourself on your bravery. And then stop looking at yourself. Run the half-marathon. Paint a portrait of your dog. Cook dinner for your neighbors. Give back to the society that, despite flinging a lot of shit your way, has made you strong.
