self-love

The Right to Bare Arms

by Sally on August 17, 2012 · 38 comments

This post first appeared on the Huffington Post, but I wanted to share it here, too!

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I’ll fess right up: I’m not terribly fond of my arms. I lift weights every week based on a regimen created for me by a personal trainer, and there’s loads of muscle in there. Seriously, just ask me to flex. But there’s also loads of jiggle. And although I don’t want to be, I’m self-conscious about it. And I generally dress to keep them covered.

But it’s August. It’s hot. And I mean HOT hot. Also nastily humid. Ya know, that sticky, icky, clingy environmental moisture that makes you feel like a giant dog tongue has just licked your whole body, clothing included? And under these circumstances, 3/4 sleeves become implements of torture.

And the fact of the matter is that my arm-related self-consciousness is centered on a recently developed, socially generated expectation that – in addition to slender legs, a flat belly, and lush breasts – all women should have toned arms. Absolutely jiggle-free, rock-solid, sculpted and toned arms. Similar to the ones seen on Jennifer Aniston, Jessica Biel, and other celebs who have live-in personal trainers and whose job it is to be in top physical condition. Like all body-related mandates, this is unreasonable, shaming, and downright awful. I know this inside my brain. And it angers me endlessly and I want to fight back. Unfortunately my emotional self still kicks and screams when I pull on a tank top, wailing at the size, the jiggle, the uneven skin tone of my exposed arms. It then becomes an internal battle of wills: Shirk the imposed body mandates and feel exposed and self-conscious, or give in, cover up and relax?

I try to bear in mind that sleeveless garments can be more flattering than short-sleeved ones, and go that route when it’s sweltering. And if it’s cool enough, I do 3/4 or cuff my long sleeves. But other days, days when my outrage manages to squelch my insecurity, I just force myself to remember this important mantra: All women have the right to bare arms, regardless of size, shape, or tone. The vast majority of us HAVE arms, many of us are forced to deal with heat and humidity at some point in the calendar year, and we should not allow restrictive social norms about how our bodies “should” look to shame us into dressing in clothing that makes us feel hot and miserable. Arms come in all shapes and sizes. Flattering them can certainly be a priority, but covering them up on a miserably hot day and risking heat rash in the name of hiding a little jiggle? No way. Not OK, not reasonable, not necessary.

I used to be incredibly self-conscious about my belly, and I still dress to downplay it. But friends, I have come to have a real and deep affection for it as a natural, biological, lovely, and defining part of my physical self. It took years of work, but I got there. So I have faith that my arm-battle will end because I want it to end. And I know what my ultimate conclusion should be: I have the right to bare arms. And so do we all.

Image courtesy Ash in Fashion.

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Guest Post: Amy Guth on Dressing Room Choices

by Sally on August 1, 2012 · 23 comments

I do believe that the silver lining to my recent Kindle fiasco was that it allowed me to connect with the fabulous Amy Guth. (Who, I’m tickled to report, purchased my book for Kindle. Woot!) Amy is a novelist, radio host, and social media manager at a little newspaper I like to call The Chicago Tribune. So, ya know, she rocks. I could tell right away that she was a total kindred spirit, and within two e-mail exchanges I was begging her to share this anecdote/philosophy with you folks. I won’t spoil it by rambling on. Read for yourselves!

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If a dressing room is a source of stress or dread, try this: Slip on clothes with your back to the mirror. Dressed, take a moment and decide whether or not the item feels comfortable and well-made, and determine if it fits within your existing wardrobe. If it passes the comfort and quality test, then turn around to see how it looks.

The idea of trying on clothes and assessing comfort before facing the mirror causes a subtle but important shift: It puts the dressing room emphasis on whether or not the item of clothing is worthy of you and not the other way around. This practice helps send a mental cue-to-self that the clothing is to be vetted first and foremost, an exercise in “this is not right for me” and not in “I am not right for this.”

Subtle, yes, but doing this helps keep perspective: Realizing in advance that a skirt feels uncomfortable in the waist or hip trains our crosshairs on the skirt (not, say, our own bodies), and allows us to sail past negative self talk (“My hips are too big!” or “My muffin top is gross!”) when facing the mirror. It also provides an opportunity to switch out an ill-fitting garment for a more suitable size before succumbing to the self-doubt that dressing room mirrors often inspire. By the same token, taking time to realize that an article of tried-on clothing does feel comfortable can set you up for positive self-talk once you turn to face the mirror. (“I look great in this blouse! It really flatters my figure and makes me look great! Score!”)

I’d be wrong to take credit for the seeds of this idea. I stumbled across it accidentally a few years ago when I was in a dressing room myself trying on clothes, and overheard a group of women laughing and berating themselves in a row of adjacent rooms. Yep, laughing and berating.

Their conversation was a series of competitive expressions of self-loathing, hurled at each of their respective mirrors so boldly that I recall thinking, “If someone else said that to her, we’d call it abuse. Or at the very least, she who said it would be squarely and appropriately pegged as positively awful.”

Two things I overheard brought the message into focus most clearly:

First, the voice of one woman rose above the chorus for a moment as I heard her insulting the mirror for not “letting” her have the item she’d just tried on. Really, as literally as, “You %$#@*&% mirror, why won’t you let me…?” as if ruled by the dang thing. (Gentle reminder, my friends: Mirrors don’t have opinions and most certainly are not the boss’a you. Extra bonus of this dressing room practice? You moon the mirror and set the tone right off the bat. Boom.)

Secondly, another woman – speaking to a third woman and apparently letting her peek inside her dressing room after having gone a few rounds in the “you look great”/”no, I’m hideous” game – hating on their own hips. The woman explained to her friend that she planned to buy an item that felt very comfortable, then added, “Wait, I didn’t even see how it looks.” followed by, “Oh, that actually looks pretty good.” Then she complemented her own hips.

Ka-boom! The woman found something comfortable and then checked the mirror as an afterthought.

After that, her dressing room comments were far more positive than those of her friends.

I wasn’t embroiled in a dressing room battle that day myself. (Well, not unless, “What the hell am I going to wear to that wedding next weekend?” counts.) But I decided to try out the comfort-first idea anyway. It was life-changing, particularly when swimsuit season rolled around. Immediately, I started making smarter, more conscious choices about wardrobe pieces (translation: far fewer, “What was I thinking when I bought that?” moments of buyers’ remorse), and felt the stress of shopping start to shift into a much more pleasant activity.

Dressing our bodies seems to have become a chore of “get what fits passably,” and the subtle message is that we, my sisters dear, have to fit ourselves into fashion’s offerings. In fact, we are all worthy of taking a breath, deciding if our clothes are worthy of our bodies (and this is a point for which we all just adore Sally’s messaging, I think most of us can agree), and then taking on the visual and styling in the second beat.

Hokey at first? Maybe. But we’re pressured to play the competitive self-insult game out of conditioning or habit. And we’re also pressured/reminded by advertisements for yogurt, flavored water, diet systems, and all sorts of other crap that we’re “supposed” to dread the simple act of deciding if a piece of clothing is worthy of space in our closets. This is one simple gesture that can restore order and set us up for positive thinking. (And that will stick it to those eat-our-yogurt-to-shrink-your-whatever-sized-self commercials anyday.)

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If you’re as enamored of Amy as I, follow her on Twitter, join her on Facebook, or ogle her amazing cowgirl books on Flickr.

Image courtesy Dwellement.

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The Unfortunate Universals

by Sally on July 23, 2012 · 80 comments

There is a lot of fat fear floating around in the world right now. A LOT. That fear generates bullying, prejudice, policing, and judgment from sources both expected and unexpected, and it is a fear that is both socially sanctioned and systemically encouraged. Since I don’t believe that weight is the sole factor in determining health, and since I believe that the health of others is none of my business, I write and speak out frequently about the issues surrounding fat fear and hatred.

It was recently brought to my attention that I don’t spend much time examining the other side of the coin. Fat girls get teased, told they need to go on diets, inundated with hurtful comments about their shape and size. Skinny girls also get teased, told they’ve got eating disorders, inundated with hurtful comments about their shape and size. The world loves to criticize big bodies, and the eagerness to do so seems to be very much on the rise. But the world can be pretty keen to wag fingers at little bodies, too. Think about how many “she needs a sandwich” comments you’ve heard in the past few weeks. Contemplate how dismissive the “real women have curves” rhetoric could feel to someone who lacks those curves. Consider how quickly people jump to judgment upon seeing a prominent collarbone or set of slender arms. Women who are naturally thin can become targets for brutal body snarking, as The Waves described in her guest post on what it’s like to be a model. And while certain thin bodies receive social privileges, there is often an undercurrent of anger and judgment even as those privileges are doled out.

Since attacks of this sort are felt differently by each individual target, discussions of who’s got it worse aren’t especially helpful. Especially since body policing reaches well beyond matters of size and shape. If you’re butch, if you’re tattooed or pierced, if you’re trans, if you’re old, if you use a wheelchair, if you wear short skirts, if you’re muscular, if you’re absolutely anything besides a carbon copy of Jennifer Aniston, you may become a target for commentary, unsolicited advice, and criticism. Actually, even if you ARE a carbon copy of Jennifer Aniston, you’re likely to get some snipes. Body, figure, grooming, and style policing have somehow become unfortunate universals for women.

And I keep searching for ways to change the conversation, change minds, change thought patterns. I keep struggling to transform judgment into gentle and open curiosity. It is the things that make us different that make us amazing, and that can be experienced with care and love instead of fear and loathing. I want people to assume less and accept more, to realize that another human being’s exterior is just one small piece of that human being’s unique puzzle. We jump to judgment so quickly and feel so righteous in our censure. But what do we know about the people we see? So very, very little.

I’d love to hear your thoughts, both on the bullying and on the actions we can take to stop it. Have you had your body policed? For being fat, skinny, old, inked, something else? How and why have you been targeted? How did you respond? How do you think we can begin to work against the unfortunate universal of body-based judgment?

PLEASE NOTE: Keep your comments civil and respectful or they will not be published here.

Image courtesy hypertwig.

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Control

by Sally on June 21, 2012 · 47 comments

When I first realized that I was unhappy with my body and when I first decided to do something about it, I dieted. I dieted for what seemed like ages. And sometimes I lost weight and felt a bit better, and sometimes I didn’t.

Eventually, I added exercise to my life’s routines to supplement the dieting. And sometimes I lost weight or gained muscle tone, and sometimes I didn’t.

After THAT, I began to play around with clothing and style as a means of making peace with my body. And with very few exceptions, dressing to my figure has been the most effective, reliable means of feeling good about and connected to my body. Unlike diet and exercise, I could very carefully control the outcomes associated with what I wore. I could change my outward appearance on a whim, I could tweak it immediately, I could transform my look completely using only clothing and accessories.

It took a few years, but eventually I began to crave more control over my body and my presentation. I was sick of being told that, yes, it was fine to avoid the sun but didn’t I realize how peaked I looked? I began to wear blush, and felt more in control of my complexion. I was sick of a mad mop of curls that got frizzy and unruly if a light breeze so much as ruffled them. I chopped off my hair, refined my pixie cut over several months, and felt more in control of my hair. I was sick of looking at, attempting to combat, and feeling unhappy with my copious body hair. I ponied up for some laser hair removal treatments, and felt more in control of my Sal-scape.

In some cases, intense focus on control can trigger a spiral. From what I’ve read and been told, exercising control over the body as a means of calming distress sometimes transforms into disordered eating. For many people, there’s a fine line between making changes to feel more in control of one’s appearance, and making body/appearance/eating/exercise changes because they feel like the only things that can be controlled. My own feelings and actions haven’t crossed over into that realm, but I am acutely aware of the connection and remain vigilant should such a spiral begin.

My body is amazing, and I love it. My body is also stubborn, unpredictable, and incredibly sensitive. If I eat a candy bar, I will get instant heartburn and a robust crop of zits within two days. I have a protruding disc that acts up on occasion, and am yet to determine what exactly triggers my back pain. I get ocular migraines, but only sporadically. Even on hormonal birth control, I will occasionally get the dreaded pre-period breast tenderness so badly that toweling myself dry makes me wince. I do my best to change my behaviors, food intake, and stress levels to mitigate these reactions, but mostly I just have to roll with them. When I cannot make sense of my body’s wants and needs, I simply relinquish control and respond with kindness.

Although the idea of seeking to control certain aspects of my body and its presentation may sound rigid or risky, I am careful about my choices. I am fully aware that 97% of my body’s doings are far beyond my reach and all I can do is react to them. That other 3% is important to my self-image, my confidence, and my ability to maintain good diplomatic relations with my physical form. I’m perfectly willing to let go of the things I cannot control. But the things that I can? I will.

Is there anything about your appearance or body that you’ve sought to control over the years? Anything that you’ve tried to control, but then relinquished? How do you feel about changing what your body does naturally? Does it seem harsh or hypocritical? Or normal and productive? I know that some of you amazing readers struggle with or are recovering from eating disorders. If you feel comfortable commenting, I’d love your input. Do you feel that exercising control over the body is risky or unhealthy? Always? Sometimes? Where do you draw the line?

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Dressing to Honor Your Body

by Sally on June 6, 2012 · 19 comments

There are so many ways to honor your physical form. Practicing yoga, enjoying your sexuality, eating mindfully and with great relish, honing your skills as an athlete, absorbing a wonderful massage. And, of course, voicing gratitude aloud or in writing is a fantastic way to show your body love and admiration.

But an often-overlooked way to pay tribute to your body is to dress it in a way that makes you feel amazing, strong, gorgeous, and unique. Or all of the above! As I’ve said many times, we must all dress on a daily basis, and doing so can feel mundane and even oppressive at times. But by viewing dressing as an act of praise, it becomes an easy, near-constant celebration of the body. By dressing to our strengths and favorite aspects, we do our bodies a small but powerful honor. By transforming the act of dressing into an act of love, we recapture and even expand upon that power.

The way you choose to honor your body through dressing will be totally unique. This concept doesn’t rely on traditional ideas of figure flattery or femme archetypes, doesn’t mean spike heels and red lips. Not to everyone. Dressing to honor your body can mean slipping on a silky caftan that makes you feel utterly goddess-like. It can mean wearing your favorite red bra under your sweatshirt as a fun little secret. It can mean taking a day off from stiff suits and constricting hose and relaxing into your favorite old jeans. It can mean wearing a favorite frock to work or class. It can mean making each outfit a riot of color. Whatever clothing makes you feel connected to and loving toward your body will do the trick.

The idea of the body as a temple has been around for ages, but too often the sentiment stops there. What is a temple for? Acts of praise and honor and reverence. If your body is a temple, consider honoring it. And if you’re looking for a new way to do that, consider dressing in a way that helps you to feel like your best self.

Images via Wardobe Oxygen (left) and Eek! (right), two of my longtime favorite bloggers who, I believe, dress to honor their bodies.

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Why Body Image Matters

by Sally on May 24, 2012 · 41 comments

There are a lot of worthy causes in the world. More than can possibly be listed, and every one of them serious and important and potentially life-altering. And we all have a limited amount of time and energy to dedicate to our causes and beliefs and battles, so we can’t all contribute to everything. Working towards a positive, peaceful, accepting body image may seem like such an insignificant goal, comparatively speaking. But here’s why I think that cultivating positive body image matters.

Because we cannot love others, help others, or support others if we hate ourselves. Because we cannot achieve to our fullest, realize our dreams, or conquer our fears if we hate ourselves. Because we cannot change who we are, grow stronger, or realize our potential if we hate ourselves. Because we cannot thrive and blossom if we hate ourselves. And hating ourselves includes hating our bodies. Our bodies are integral to our selves.

Because the world is full of messages about “good” and “bad” bodies. Because we are told that a certain weight, a certain set of proportions, a certain body type or shape will unlock happiness, and that we should do everything in our power to achieve those things. Because there are forces and industries that benefit when we hate our bodies. Because we should fight against anything that tells us we must conform or live in misery, that if we don’t conform we should hate ourselves. And hating ourselves includes hating our bodies. Our bodies are integral to our selves.

Because happiness is difficult in so many ways, and becomes even more so if we lunge at it from a place of self-loathing. Because understanding ourselves, loving others, and changing the world can seem utterly impossible if we linger in a place of self-loathing. Because many of the most rewarding experiences in life feel just beyond reach when we hate ourselves. And hating ourselves includes hating our bodies. Our bodies are integral to our selves.

Learning to love your body may seem small or selfish or pointless at times, especially when compared to fighting for larger causes and reaching out to help others. But to fashion yourself into a powerful, effective, whole being, you’ve got to come at life from a place of strength. Your body is your home. If you hate your home – if you flee from it, disrespect it, and wish it were fundamentally different – your strength will be diminished. Whether you want to help others or simply find your way to happiness in your own life, loving yourself is absolutely vital.

And loving yourself includes loving your body. Your body is integral to your self.

Image courtesy the amazing Christi Nielsen.

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Body Image Mantras for Doubters

by Sally on May 14, 2012 · 21 comments

I have a background in New Agey-ness. Honest. I worked at a metaphysical book publisher for years, and I did so because I’m a double Capricorn with Taurus rising and am quite sure that information has real bearing on my life path. I have experienced the power of visualization, seen spells work, and received practical, helpful advice from Tarot readings. I don’t just want to believe, I actually do. In more cases than not.

But there’s a certain segment of self-help, New Age, advice-y stuff that makes me go, “Eh.” And for years, that included mantras. I talk a lot and write even more, so you’d think that I’d GET how powerful words can be. Especially in repetition. But I didn’t. Until I hit a wall in my own body image work and started reciting a few on my own. And they worked.

For doubters like me, I think mantras must be kept simple, positive, and universal. Looking in the mirror each morning and saying, “My body is lovely and unique in every way, and will remain so no matter what,” is absolutely worthwhile. But it’s also a bit convoluted. A variant on the phrase above, “My whole being is beautiful,” might work better, and even encompasses the you beyond your body. Doing, “I don’t have to conform to anyone else’s beauty ideal,” hits an important note, but does so from a reactive standpoint. In my experience, mantras resonate when they’re affirming, so focusing on the positive always helps. Try, “My beauty is unique and true,” instead. And although something specific like, “My hips and curves enhance my fabulousness,” will work wonders if you’ve honed in on a specific body area that troubles you, “My figure is fab,” might stick in your mind a bit better in the long run.

Here are a few other body image mantras that might work, even for staunch for mantra-doubters:

Thank you, body, for all that you do.
I am strong, I am good.
When I see myself, I see beauty.
My body is sacred.
I am powerful and strong.
My beauty is my own.
I love who I am, body and soul.

You can also go the cheeky route – blow yourself a kiss, experiment with, “Hey, good lookin’!” do something playful. But for any mantra – fun or serious – to be effective, it must be consistent for a decent chunk of time and it must be out loud. I know that last bit may sound like a deal-breaker to some of you doubters, but I’m TELLING you. Saying something out loud gives it a power that reciting it internally seldom can. Think about putting on your favorite dress. If you look in the mirror and are pleased, you’ll smile. But if you look in the mirror and are blown away by your own hotness, you’ll exclaim aloud. Which of those expresses the stronger emotion?

Mantras aren’t for everyone, and I’ll admit to falling off this bandwagon myself fairly regularly. But I’ve been amazed by how these seemingly small, easy, simple phrases can shift my self-perception and boost my body image when repeated regularly. And I’m hoping this little tribute to them will drag some of you doubters over to the other side.

How do you feel about mantras in general? Body image mantras specifically? Can you imagine taking one on for yourself? Would you be willing to try – even for a week? (Hint, hint, nudge, nudge.)

Image via Rosie Molinary.

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This Week I Love …

by Sally on May 7, 2012 · 31 comments

… Adele.

I mean, first off, this woman absolutely OOZES talent. She’s what, 22 now, and the proud owner of multiple Grammys? She’s passionate, ambitious, fearless, and absolutely mesmerizing in performance. Her songs are heart-wrenching, her voice is absolutely hypnotic, and her self-confidence is utterly inspiring.

Secondly, I absolutely adore her personal style. Classic, pared-down, and heavy on the retro influence? Yes, please! She’s worn a couple of Barbara Tfank gowns that stopped me dead in my tracks, I’d like to crawl inside her gorgeous hair to LIVE, and although she’s a little color-shy she certainly knows how to pick gorgeous and flattering silhouettes. I would quite happily swap closets with her.

Now. Body image. Adele has made some disparaging remarks about her peer group’s dressing and body management choices that tarnish her star a bit, if you ask me. But when it comes to her comments on her own figure, weight, and body, she seems to be utterly sincere when she tells reporters that, no, she doesn’t feel like she should drop a few stone to conform to some arbitrary beauty ideal. She says she doesn’t even think about it. Maybe she’s exaggerating, but here’s hoping she’s not. Because her unflagging confidence and her refusal to change herself in the face of fame-related pressures make her an anomaly and a potential role model.

At least, that’s what I think. Are you a fan of Adele? Her music? Her style? Her views on weight and body image?

Top image courtesy myplay, second image courtesy dailyvenusdiva.

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