Posts Categorized: body image

Body Shifts

3994473913_a8a0c34cc1_z

Around the time I graduated from college, my body shifted. I hadn’t gained any weight, but I noticed that my clothes were fitting my curves differently. They were snug where they’d once been loose, loose where they’d once been snug. I mean, I didn’t go from an A cup to a D cup and suddenly lose my hips altogether, but there was definitely some shifting. And it wasn’t weight-related, and it wasn’t immediately visible when I looked at myself naked, and it wasn’t particularly troubling or worrisome. I’ll admit that I can’t remember the specifics of the shift, but I remember the sensation of realizing that my physical form had changed. Markedly. It struck me as odd because in the past, any body changes I’d experienced were mass-related. In this case, mass remained the same while shape shifted.

About ten years ago, my body shifted again. My legs thinned out a bit and my bust rounded somewhat. Again, no drastic change in weight, but my clothes began to fit differently and styles that one suited me looked odd while others I’d long shied away from started to appeal. Once again, I was perplexed. I talked to girlfriends and asked if they’d had similar shifts, and many of them had. We chalked it up to aging, hormones, changes in activity that we weren’t hyper aware of.

I can feel my body shifting again now. I’ve stayed at a pretty steady 150 pounds for many years, but somehow my size 10 pants are becoming ridiculously uncomfortable and I’m having to trade up for 12s. I haven’t noticed any softening of muscle or even a noticeable difference in the size of my hips and thighs, but wow. Pants fit differently now. And several pairs have been donated once that realization sunk in for good.

Although I do my best to love and accept my body, these shifts are a little unnerving. I don’t feel the need to control everything my body does or even keep careful tabs on its various statistics and measurements, but when it does change I like to know why. And although I’m sure that hormones, aging, and activity shifts could be contributing factors, it still feels strange to observe changes that aren’t the result of purposeful action or inaction. I feel detached and disconnected observing these shifts, like my body is making decisions behind closed doors while my brain waits outside in the lobby.

But because I’ve gone through several rounds of body shifts, and because my doctor assures me that I’m in good health, and because many of my women friends have been through similar changes, I am trying to look at this as an exercise in trust. I do my best to listen to my body and respond to its needs, but also know that some changes are silent by nature. I have no idea why this could be important, but perhaps there’s a biological reason why some of my personage needs to settle in around my lower body. So I’ll trust that my body is making informed decisions, and head for the size 12s.

Image courtesy Steve Maher

Related Posts

I Love My Knees

knees

Can we talk about knees for a moment?

Many years ago, a friend made a passing comment about her “fat knees.” I was about 22 at the time and utterly baffled. Previous to that, I’d never met anyone who felt self-conscious about her knees for any reason and figured they were not a point of bodily scrutiny for most folks. Oh, how wrong I was. And the older I get, the more women I meet who are so ashamed of their knees that they insist upon covering them with long pants or midi skirts at all times. And although most of these women are older than me – apparently knees that have passed the age of 40 are frequently assigned to the “eye-searingly gross” category – some are younger. Many, many women hate their knees. Women of all ages, sizes, and shapes.

After years of media brainwashing, I understand how we end up hating our bellies and busts and upper arms. I don’t like it, but I get it: There is enough anatomic variety and enough emphasis on how those body parts “should” be shaped to warp our views. Knee-hatred, on the other hand, continues to baffle me. I mean, have you SEEN knees? They are joints, for crying out loud. They are a body part where a whole bunch of cartilage and bone and tendon converges to enable locomotion. They are not supposed to be smooth and wrinkle-free. They would not WORK if they were smooth and wrinkle-free. There would be very little bending possible in a knee covered in tight, taut skin. And unless you have a very specific set of genetics and proportions, there will be a saggy little bit of bonus leg perched atop your kneecap. THIS IS FINE! This is how knees look. And don’t go telling me that celebrity knees are made of nothing but unbearably sexy planes and angles. All knees are a little smooshy, a little wrinkly, a little odd looking. They were designed to be that way.

I believe that my mother-in-law and father-in-law have at least three fake knees between them, and I’ve watched them endure the agony of knee-replacement surgery. Whenever my own knees get a little stiff or creaky, I am reminded to steward them well, because they are essential and somewhat vulnerable, even in a non-athlete such as myself. If you have the ability to walk unaided, you can thank your knees for that. If you can ride a bike or squat down to grab a fallen pen or bend to seat yourself in a car, you can thank your knees for all of those things, too. They may not be gorgeous, but they are little miracles of biological design.

Am I saying that you are required to massage your knees with essential oils and sing them love songs? I am not. Am I saying that if you and your knees aren’t getting along, you must immediately begin wearing mini skirts to heal the rift? Nope. But it hurts my heart to see this vital, undervalued, and amazing body part so maligned. I know that super wrinkly, saggy knees make people feel self-conscious, and if you are self-conscious about ANYTHING it is your prerogative to keep that thing private in any way you see fit. But I’ve met dozens upon dozens of women who reject skirts and dresses and shorts that look utterly marvelous on them, simply because those garments showed some knee. Wearing below-the-knee hems can make you overheat in summer, it can break up your proportions in odd ways, it can severely limit your shopping and dressing options. And hiding your knees enables you to continue feeling ashamed of them.

So, if you have been knee-shy in the past, I hope I can encourage you to practice a little knee-love. Your knees look like that because of motion, and that motion is a blessing that some are denied. Your knees look like everyone else’s, and very few people are going to scrutinize them anyway. Your knees and my knees and Shailene Woodley’s knees are all a little smooshy, a little wrinkly, a little odd looking. And that is completely, utterly fine.

Image courtesy Coba. A version of this first appeared on Huffington Post.

Related Posts

The Photographed Body

Hi all – comments shouldn’t have been closed on this post. Re-posting so they’re open. Apologies – still no idea why this randomly happens sometimes …

woman and camera

A few months back, reader K emailed me about posing for photos. She told me that overall, she really loved her body, loved how it looked, and felt confident that it was lovely and strong. But whenever she saw still photos of herself, everything shifted.

I would wager that within the past few years, I’ve been very displeased with about 75% of pictures taken of me. I’ll see the pictures and immediately think, ugh my shoulders look huge, my breasts are too big for my body, my stomach pooches out in an unsightly manner, my arms look doughy and huge, and my thighs look massive. Then, after I see said unflattering pictures, my body confidence takes a huge hit. I’ll wonder, what is the real me that people see? Is it the one who I love to see in the mirror every day?

I’ve written about what it means to be photogenic before, and I feel compelled to lift this marvelous lyric from that post.

“It took me too long to realize that I don’t take good pictures ’cause I have the kind of beauty that moves.”
~ Ani DiFranco, “Evolve”

The first time I heard this phrase, I nearly fell over. It had literally never occurred to me that someone who appeared beautiful in person could look odd in photos, all photos, and that this disconnect could come down to the difference between still beauty and beauty in motion. But it made so much sense. In some cases, what makes us unique and lovely is specific to the nuances of live action. When we’re frozen in time, we just don’t look the same.

But beyond that, I think there is an element of cultural expectation and manipulation at play here. We see photos of people every day. And the VAST majority of those photos have been digitally manipulated in some way. Ridiculously Photoshopped magazine and ad photos may come immediately to mind, but consider the number of “beautification” apps available that can change the shapes, tones, and colors in our simple phone selfies. Truly candid, unretouched, unfiltered photos are relatively rare. And though many of us post images to social media, the ones that include our own images are meticulously selected to show our bodies and faces at their best. At our best.

There are ways to position yourself so you look slimmer in photos – turning your face slightly instead of looking straight into the lens, shifting your body so you’re seen slightly from the side instead of dead-on, good posture, rolled-back shoulders, and more – but if you try these and still loathe the results? There may be something deeper going on. You may be expecting to see a still image that mirrors the photos of digitally perfected women you see all around you. You may have the kind of beauty that moves. Or you may have some buried body image concern or issue that only ever surfaces when you see yourself in photographs.

In the first case, spending some time with old photo albums might be helpful. Immerse yourself in images that are truly candid, truly unretouched, and remind yourself that people can look wacky and soft and ordinary and disproportionate in still photos, and that is completely fine. Photos that include makeup and styling staff, professional lighting and photography, and post-production manipulation look amazing. Photos that were taken at the beach or while sledding or during a birthday party look amazing, too, but in a wholly different way.

In the second case, consider taking some short videos of yourself or asking for help creating some. Seeing yourself photographed but in motion may help things click into place. Some beauty moves. It might not make you feel any better when you get tagged on Facebook, but when someone whips out a camera you can breathe, manage your expectations, and remind yourself that still photos will never accurately represent the real you.

In the third case? Oh, I wish I had some actionable advice that would work for everyone, but I just don’t. I’ve watched as Vivienne McMaster has created and expanded her Be Your Own Beloved offerings, which focus on cultivating self-love through self-portraiture, and cruising through her blog may help shake some things loose. She also has workshops and e-courses that focus on body image and photography. But in some cases, unearthing what’s buried may be deeply personal.

One thing that may be helpful to anyone who dislikes her image in still photos? Remember that photos are not you. Just as your body is not all there is to your self, your image is not all there is to your body, your beauty, your identity. I know this can be tough to swallow since photos are how other people see us, in many cases. But you can’t control what others think of you, be it in person or through the lens. You can only control how you react. And reacting by remembering that your still image captures only a fragment of your unique beauty may help.

Our culture is obsessed with capturing moments on camera, but our lives are lived in motion. Two-dimensional versions will never compare to the living, breathing, thinking, feeling being that is you. Still photos of you are not you. Because more often than not, beauty moves.

Image courtesy Lauren Powell-Smothers

Related Posts