Guest Post: Creating Bonds Around Self-Love Instead of Negative Self Talk

Y’all this guest post has been whipped up for you by the ultra inspiring Emilie Littlehales, of the blog I Came to Run and the Embrace: Me Project. Please welcome her right on into your hearts – she’s adorable.

This past weekend I sat in on a talk on women in running, during which one of the three speakers addressed the issue of body image.  She began her talk by quickly polling the audience, which was made up almost entirely of women: “How many of you feel good about your bodies?”  There was a long hesitation, and then a few hands (including my own) rose tentatively into the air.  I looked around somewhat nervously—there were about fifty women in the room, and maybe three or four of us had our hands raised.  I wasn’t sure what to think; when it comes to body image, I’ve been through hell and back again, so I could certainly relate to those women who chose not to raise their hands.  But my empathy was mixed with a few other emotions: guilt, embarrassment, anger, and a sense of isolation.

From an early age, we learn to dislike our bodies.  There are a variety of factors that play a role in this, but we have to be careful not to underestimate the degree to which our interactions with other girls and women influence us in this regard.  Sooner or later, negative body image becomes a common feeling over which we learn to bond, and a sisterhood that centers on sharing our thoughts on how much we dislike parts of physical selves develops.  It’s a disturbing phenomenon when you take a step back to look at it: you can’t walk into a room one day and declare how good you feel about your thighs, doing so might result in you being the victim of silent, seething resentment.  But say that you feel fat or disgusting, and you will find that the entire room knows exactly how you feel.

image by N1NJ4

To be fair, it’s highly unlikely that we’d judge others by the same standards to which we hold ourselves—a friend who is our exact same size or weight is probably gorgeous in our eyes, maybe even the subject of some jealousy because of how much more attractive we think she is—but the fact that this dynamic exists at all is troubling.  Without our intending for it to, having a negative body image has become something we expect of each other, something that makes us relatable, and much more comfortable with each other than we would be otherwise.  That’s why I felt the way I did when I raised my hand on Saturday; all of a sudden I felt like an outsider, and, even worse, a traitor.

image by bee wolf ray

Commiserating with another woman about how we feel about our bodies is the kind of thing that we do every day, often without even thinking.  It’s become polite, or expected—it’s just what you do.  We can complain about our thighs, our dress size, our weight, or our diets to women we barely even know, but by virtue of the fact that we’re female, we know we’ll share the same feelings.  It’s become such a commonplace that it can be unsettling to meet a woman who doesn’t feel the same way (how often have you or someone you know joked about “hating” another woman because she seems confident and comfortable with herself?).  The problem is that we don’t often take a moment to think about how damaging this practice is.  In accepting poor body image as a means through which we can bond and forge relationships, we’re acknowledging that it’s not important for us to make an effort to feel any better.  It may be the status quo for us to feel badly about ourselves, but that doesn’t mean it’s right, and it doesn’t mean we should seek out relationships and experiences that enable us to perpetuate our feeling that way.

So I would like to propose a challenge: set aside a period of time, whether it’s a day, a week, a month, or more, and for its duration, make a point to disengage from these bonding experiences.  When you get sucked into a conversation that involves women putting themselves down, remain silent, or even walk away.  If you feel comfortable doing so, you can even say that you don’t want to participate.  If you’re feeling especially brave, explain why.  See if you can create a different bond, one that is more positive, and that will ultimately be more powerful.

Emilie Littlehales writes the blog I Came to Run, where she tends to go on and on about the things she loves most: running, yoga, and working on breaking down the narrow definitions of beauty that our society seems to be so fond of.  She’s also the founder of the Embrace:Me project.  She lives in New York City with the love of her life, and is starting to come to terms with the fact that everyone who told her things will start to sort themselves out once she hits her thirties may be right (she’ll know for sure in less than six months).

Tagged as: body image, embrace me, friendships, guest posts, I came to run, relationships, teenage