Body image occupied way too much of my brain as a teenager. The negativity that surrounds it is something I’ve only managed calm within the last few years. It’s something I’ll never understate because of how personal it all is. Your body is you – flesh, bone and the soul that lives in it.
As soon as puberty started doing its thing, I became aware that there was a certain way I should look. I had been an athletic kid but after a combination of factors I didn’t quite understand at the time, I gained a significant amount of weight from ages 10-12. Part of me didn’t care, but the majority of me did – it was the parts that felt uncomfortable in my school shirts and trousers that were now a few sizes up.
I had no clue what to do and that scared me, but as my mum would say, it wouldn’t last forever. While that was comforting in the moment, it didn’t help my crumbling self-esteem or my understanding as to why me and not my friends.
Googling the solution was error number one, but it was all I had. I researched calories, exercises and diets which resulted in step-by-step guides to starvation and gaining sixpacks in 2 weeks. For the results I wanted, it was a male dominated field, as I wasn’t exposed to the idea of strong looking women.
I remember being around the age of 7, stood in front of my mum’s huge bedroom mirror. I pulled up my t-shirt and assessed the lines on my stomach. How naïve I was – how young I was – unable to believe that the lines were little muscles from sports, and how if only I were a boy, then I would be able to grow them.
By the time I was 12, with rolls where my little abs used to be, I knew nothing about taking things slow, becoming more active and weaning towards a calorie deficit to see results. All I could think about was my body shape being the first thing people see before I even see them. This set up unhealthy patterns for my teens of not eating, and struggling to keep up with excessive workouts.
I just wish someone had told me back then that the body is malleable and not something to be conscious of but to live in, and to treat it right. Whatever shape or size your body is, it’s yours to look after as best you can. That’s all I needed to be taught back then, but no-one knew the right words with the right conviction.
Lately, I’ve begun using the term “strong over skinny.”
But that’s not what is taught to women and girls from the start. I have my own theory as to why this might be, and it’s rooted in predatory sexism. Throughout history, men in media have pushed so-called beauty standards to make it harder for us to fight back. Think about it; the thinner you are, the frailer you are – the weaker you are physically. Who are you to fight your own if you’re taught that you have to be physically weaker?
In finding healthier habits, I’ve also found that the body is something you can condition over time. It’s important to take that time to learn yourself in the process. Learn your limits, what you enjoy, what exhausts you and what moves you. What moves you?