Why I Think The Body Positivity Movement Is Damaging

There are no photos of me at age 13.

The same way the 13th floor is absent in so many buildings, the 13th year of my life is absent in my photo albums. No proof of my existence. I tore up every single photo of me from that year.

Leave no trace behind.

There is not much from that year that I remember except for the one thing that dominated it: I was fat.

I wasn’t obese, I wasn’t even that overweight (only about 10 pounds or so). But to me, it may as well have been 50 pounds. I was insecure, hated the way I looked, and every time I looked at a photo that had been taken of me, I mentally tore myself apart – and so I did the same thing physically to the photos. 

I embarked on my first-ever diet and lost the weight. But for so many years after that my body issues (as well as dieting) followed along on my journey through life. Body insecurity has played an important role in shaping who I am. I have always, ALWAYS, been cognisant, mildly aware of, focused on, self-conscious of, obsessed with, unhappy with, and critical of my body – the sort of self-criticism that winds so tightly around itself that over time, it becomes part of your identity.

But is it really such a bad thing?

Forty years later I can confidently answer that question: No.

My year of chubby turned out to be the catalyst for a life long aim to better myself. Without it, I think I’d thrown my hands up in defeat long ago.

Which leads me to ask: What’s wrong with a little insecurity when that insecurity propels you to work harder and to push yourself beyond your comfort zone? Where would the fitness and nutrition industries be without body insecurity? Where would we all be without it?

Body insecurities have had the potential to motivate me on more than one occasion. I don’t think I would have changed my eating habits or worked out half as hard my whole life, had I not dedicated endless hours (okay, maybe not hours) in front of the mirror examining every part of my body. This can actually be quite challenging given all the things on my to-do lists, but allowing myself this indulgence has been productive in its own right. 

Insecurity — when deployed in moderation — is one of life’s greatest propellers.

Which is why I have a problem with the body positivity movement. Now, I don’t mean to dimish what this movement is trying to do — it’s honorable and backed by good intentions. But it lacks real teeth.  This blanket pursuit of body love isn’t serving us. In fact, the biggest barrier with coming to terms with our flawed bodies is the pressure to love them despite their flaws.

It’s a slippery slope to encourage being ok with the status quo; it unwittingly provides a way out, an excuse to let yourself go, to not pursue a healthy lifestyle — and could potentially have negative health effects.

I agreed to embrace the whole body positively thing (for about 5 minutes) mainly because I felt pressured by society to do so. But it didn’t work for me…it made me lazy. I need to judge myself against other younger, fitter women — it makes me go to the gym.

Besides, posting #ilovemybody on social media to show everyone that I’m feeling very positive about my bod will not exempt me from the feelings of self-loathing that come from trying on a bikini in a department store dressing room. 

I can’t hashtag my way to self-confidence.

No matter how many Dove campaigns or Body Positive Instagram accounts I follow, they’re not enough to erase the onslaught of images of lithe 20 year-olds that find their way into the squishy parts of my psyche competing with the body love messages.

And I know I’m not alone.

Women judge themselves to a depressing degree regardless of weight, height, age, or level of beauty, regardless of feminism and inclusivity ad campaigns, regardless of income or nationality…regardless.

I’ve been witness to friends of mine suffer from body issues my whole life. I’ve consoled and commiserated. I’ve sat there astounded as a skinny or fit or beautiful friend described her “flaws” to me: her thighs are too flabby, her boobs are too small, her butt is too droopy. It’s insane!

Their bodies, like your body, like my body, and all the bodies of women everywhere are unique and imperfect and reveal stories —

And yet…and yet.

When I’ve come close to loving my body — and I have come close — I’ve come internally unglued over the slightest shift and change that are part and parcel of getting older. So how can you love a body that’s constantly changing on you, especially as you get older?

What’s the solution?

My refusal to indulge in the body positivity movement doesn’t mean I don’t aim to love myself, in fact, it’s been a life long process, and one with which I’ve had some success. I love myself despite the fact that I don’t love my body.

And that’s my point.

Instead of the movement to love our bodies, why don’t we reframe that and aim to accept that we may never love them instead?

This is my suggestion and something that I’m putting into practice…

I encourage you to spend some time reflecting on the parts of your body that can be changed for the better, and those parts that you’re stuck with — for better or for worse — and making a distinction between the two.

For example…

♥ You want your butt to be a little perkier because you want it to look cute in jeans. The solution then is to find some good glute exercises (there are great ones on youtube and Instagram) and do them consistently two or three days a week until you achieve the desired result (which you will if you remain consistent).

♥ You want your butt to look like JLo’s but you’re not Puerto Rican…or Brazilian (man they have good butts!). The solution to this is to either get fillers, a Brazilian butt lift, or accepting that you have a white-girl butt and turn your focus, and everyone else’s, on some other body part, like your boobs.

See the difference?

Let’s take another example. Let’s take cellulite (my personal favorite).

State the problem: I hate my cellulite.

Ask yourself if there’s anything you can do about it: No (cuz you can’t).

Ask yourself what you can do instead: I can do a series of exercises that will strengthen and tone my thighs and possibly reduce the appearance of cellulite (or not), but my legs will look better in short skirts.

Take action: Exercise those legs!

Let take another example. A flabby stomach (another personal favorite)

State the problem: I hate that my stomach isn’t as toned as it once was.

Is there anything you can do about it: Yes. I can work out my stomach to make it as toned as possible even though there will still be extra skin because I birthed two babies and I’m in my fifties.

Take action: YouTube, a mat, and 10 minutes a day.

See what I mean?

Do this for everything area of your body you hate, dislike, or wish was different.

Instead of lambasting yourself for the parts you hate, or worse, pretending you love your body when you really don’t, love yourself for putting in the effort and for working on the parts that are workable.

Really, it’s so easy I’m surprised there isn’t a movement about that.

Look, you’ll never love 100% of your body and you won’t love parts of it 100% of the time. Why? Because you are human.

We need actionable real-world solutions to our body woes, not La la land ones that only leave us feeling bad about feeling bad.

I’ll accept the flaws that I can’t fix, but I’ll never embrace them. And I think it’s fair to say that I will never, ever, love my cellulite.

Accept that you will never be 100% happy with your body. Accept that no matter how much weight you lose, you may think you need to lose a little more. Accept that no matter how fit you are there will be parts of you that you will never like. Accept that body insecurity is even a part of a still joyful life. Then move on with the task of living your life regardless.

And in the meanwhile cultivate an acceptance of a bunch of other things we can accept and that the most enlightened and confident women know: that life is short but sometimes seems long, that our bodies are not perfect and not meant to be, that every last one of us has some type of body issue, that we all want what we can’t have, and that at the end of the day none of it will matter.

There’s a clarity to this acceptance of not loving our bodies that is more loving than the fake hashtaggy kind of love. Had I known this back when I was thirteen, I’d still have pictures to prove my existence.

Now you: How do you feel about the body-positivity movement?