Bikini Season, Body Shaming, and Other Stupidities

Bikini season is coming!

We know what that means… Lots of bikini/ fitness/ diet Pinterest boards leaving people feeling horrible about themselves. Article titles like, “How to get ‘bikini ready”. Or, articles about kale smoothies and how good they taste and while you’re at it,you should exercise like 18,000 calories a day. Pictures of “best/ worst” celeb bikini bodies. It’s already begun with “shocking” pictures of Tara Reid in a bikini and talk show hosts telling Kelly Clarkson she “could stay off the deep dish pizza” after she… gained weight (WHAT!!!!) after having a baby (um, you’re supposed to lose that weight in 2 weeks, maybe less, everyone knows that *heavy sarcasm*).

I don’t know what is more sad: 1) That a bunch of tabloid dipshits judge and mock people’s bodies, how much they eat, and their weight struggles/ triumphs/ how they’re “letting themselves go,” or 2) That somehow these magazines are selling! People are reading articles by said dipshits.

I just have to ask: What is this world?

What kind of weird society do we live in that deems terms like “fat,” “dessert,” “seconds,” and “full” shameful? What is so disgusting about women’s bodies? Side note: my focus for this post will be about body shaming women because I am one and have more to say on the topic, but men are also victims of body shaming.

All of the mean twitter posts… the cyber bullying… the incessant fat shaming… WHY? The stigmatizing body shaming comments casually zinged about, they hurt. We may not acknowledge that body shaming comments hurt inside, but they do.

Body shaming hurts.

There is endless interpersonal and internalized shame about what we look like– that number on the scale what we eat what we don’t.

Culture tells us appearance defines our worth.

People are ashamed of their own bodies, and then collectively, we shame the body of others. With all this body shaming going around, it is no wonder that the diet industry is so prominent. And here’s where things get more disturbing. In 2014, the U.S. diet industry raked in $60.5 billion. More disturbing yet: that astronomical number is a DECLINE from the year before.

This video is a good visual of how much $1 billion really is. So take that video’s visual and try to wrap your mind around $60.5 billion. This is, by any standard, a lot of money. How many social ills that much money could solve in the world? Water sanitation, poverty, racial, sexual, policy to promote gender equality, and so much more! Maybe we could even put a dent in the United States’ massive debt.

Let’s just sit here for a moment and realize how fucked up this all us.

People are spending more money than the GDP of many countries on diets that become popular and unpopular as fast as hashtags or the latest in social media… Atkins is old school (the N’Sync of diets), but kale is in (the Taylor Swift of food). People are going Paleo, organic, and gluten free. Egg white omelettes are the new black. Diet pills remain comparable to the quirky and questionable relative at many family gatherings. Constantly changing options for people who are essentially wasting their money considering that DIETS DON’T WORK!!

Body insecurity is a given in today’s culture. Between 40 and 60% of young girls ages 6-12 are already expressing concern about their weight or are worried about being fat. The body-shame cycle starts so young. The same girls memorizing Let It Go and wearing Elsa costumes around the house might be considering going on their first diet. Maybe they already have.

In our culture, we are not at peace with our bodies, and how can we be with all this propaganda and equating body size and looks to worthiness? We think, maybe that next fad diet will make us enough. Maybe, then, we can feel okay and good about ourselves. Maybe, then, we’ll be worthy.

I follow an Instagram page called “Bye Felipe” which was created to call “out dudes who turn hostile when rejected or ignored.” The site usually focuses on people who are interacting on dating web sites. You can see for yourself the number of fat-shaming comments doled out to girls on this page. It is horrifying to open up my Instagram and seeing how guys degrade women by playing on body insecurities and playing the “fat” card.

These comments hurt, and they are dangerous.

So here is my message, and I wish I could put this in size 200 font:

LET’S PUT DOWN THE SWORDS.

Let’s stop shaming ourselves and others about the way they look.

Let’s treat our bodies with acceptance and compassion.

Let’s humanize each other’s bodies. Let’s humanize our own bodies.

Do we have body flaws and faults? Do some people need to gain or lose weight? A resounding yes. But can that be okay? Are we still worthy? An equal and resounding yes. It is possible to take care of our body struggles with a posture of love and self-care.

When people talk about how so-and-so is too thin/ skinny/ fat; what’s with her butt/ boobs/ nose/ ears/ mouth/ teeth/ hair, they don’t know who they’re affecting. Little girls (AND little boys) see the disgusting way people are body-shamed, and we’re breeding new generations of body-shamers.

An app exists in which you can “fit the fat girl crown”, and there was an app (thankfully it was TAKEN DOWN) that was designed to “rescue the anorexic girl.” All this when some reports suggest that incidences of eating disorders may be on the rise.

Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting.

You don’t know what the person across the street or next to you or in the cubicle over from you is dealing with, body-wise or life-wise. Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. Often you know nothing about it, and it is better to be KIND and COMPASSIONATE, rather than shaming and potentially triggering. This spring marks the 14th year of my eating disorder, and frankly, I think people have to mind their own fucking business. I realize this does not sound kind, but one negative comment can set off a slip or relapse or a passive-aggressive text to my therapist about how much I hate her guts. NO ONE wants to hear a passive aggressive, “Do you really need that slice of cake?”, or, “Wow you look huge in that picture!” And especially not someone who has struggled with an eating disorder.

PUT DOWN THE SWORD.

So in conjunction with this blog post’s title, I’m going to tell you a secret about bikini season. Here is how to have a bikini body:

People are at war with their own bodies and the bodies of others. It is a war that no one will win, but there will be many casualties.

So, in sum: be kind, compassionate, and please:

50 Shades of Disordered Eating

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Marya Hornbacher writes, “I look back on my life the way one watches a badly scripted action flick, sitting at the edge of the seat, bursting out, ‘No, no, don’t open that door! The bad guy is in there and he’ll grab you and put his hand over your mouth and tie you up and then you’ll miss the train and everything will fall apart!’ Except there is no bad guy in this tale. The person who jumped through the door and grabbed me and tied me up was, unfortunately, me. My double image, the evil skinny chick who hisses, Don’t eat, I’m not going to let you eat. I’ll let you go as soon as you’re thin, I swear I will. Everything will be okay when you’re thin. Liar.”

This week marks the National Eating Disorder Association’s annual awareness week, and the theme this year is, “I Had No Idea.” Fourteen years ago, I didn’t know anything about eating disorders. I was creating dances to Five for Fighting songs, eating Mackinac Island fudge (it’s a Michigan thing), and reeling from loneliness alone in my room.

I knew that I was miserable, that I needed middle school to end. I knew that there was a void that hours of studying a day and my endless quest to be good enough would not fill. There was a hole in my heart, and I believed that if I could fend off my age-appropriate weight gain, maybe I would feel better inside.

What I did not know is that starting on a seemingly harmless diet would turn into a rabbit hole of misery that would continue into my late 20s. I did not know that my personality traits, perfectly suited to anorexia’s grip, genetics, and my social context would culminate into the perfect storm that would change me so much, so fast, that I barely would recognize myself.

I have a picture of myself on a Florida beach on my 13th birthday, my eyes squinting at the sun. I am rocking a one piece turquoise suit, and I look… happy. I wonder if I could talk to that 13 year old now, what I would say. I wish I could hold her hand and tell her that she doesn’t have to worry about overeating at the breakfast buffet the next day. And that middle school is horrible for a lot of people. Far too many raging hormones and mean girls.

Just 2 months later after I turned 13, I have another picture of myself in a state of complete starvation. I still thought I was “fine” at that point, but my eyes tell another story. They are vacant and lifeless. My life had changed drastically as well. My Saturday morning choreography sessions had shifted to compulsively reading cookbooks and taking naps from starvation fatigue that zapped away all my energy. I was drifting farther and farther from reality.

Over a decade has passed since my eating disorder’s initial onset. I have been through more than 50 phases of restricting, bingeing, and overexercising. Here is the difficult part– I am extremely hesitant to mention the specific behaviors that I’ve done and the abuse I’ve put my body through, because I don’t want to have anything be a “how to” or trigger.

I’ll let’s put it this way: my eating and exercise over the last decade and a half has been a play in the theater of the absurd. I’ve done figure 8’s with my cyclical behaviors and manipulated people and reeled in physical pain. There have been compulsivity, vegetables, and bizarre safety foods. Revelation of the remaining 47 shades can be left to one’s imagination, or preferably, dismissed entirely. The details are irrelevant, really.

The end result has been pain for me and others… financially, relationally, physically, spiritually.

I wouldn’t have put the last 14 years onto anyone, even my worst enemy.

Sadly, I did not receive adequate early intervention for my eating disorder. Instead of hearing about eating disorders in my health class, I learned about nutrition from my liposuction, weight-loss obsessed nutrition teacher. In gym class, instead of hearing a single thing about eating disorders, I was subjected to public weigh-in’s (can we just all agree that those are shaming?).

When my eating disorder was in its infancy, I saw a therapist who stared at me for the majority of our sessions… awkward for both of us, I’m sure, and definitely not therapeutic. I lied outright to my first (okay, first few) dietitians. My doctor told me I would be sick for the rest of my life.

That is why NEDAW’s 2015 theme of early intervention is near and dear to my heart (take a free screening for ED’s here).

I implore you: take this week to educate yourself about eating disorders. You never know who you know who will thank you for the information you have. And I’m not just talking about learning only about anorexia and bulimia… read about binge eating disorder as well! It was only just “officially” recognized in the DSM-V, but it still lacks recognition but is more prevalent than anorexia and bulimia, and it can be very dangerous.

The bottom line is this:

Eating disorders are not sexy, enviable escapades. My stomach hates me (despite my profuse apologies to it), I have paid hundreds of thousands of dollars just to be here and alive writing to you today, I am constantly at risk of relapse, and I can no longer remember a time when I was completely normal about food because I’ve lived longer with an eating disorder than without it.

Early intervention and education are so important. I wonder still if I were 13 right now reading these words, taking an online screening, and hearing about eating disorders in health class instead of liposuction… would things have been different? Would I have had fewer years of suffering?

I don’t know. But I will do anything I can to prevent others from going down that road.

Nobody wants 50 shades of disordered eating. I mean how much more horrible (and less sexy) of a movie would that be? I would not see that movie. I have lived that movie. And it sucks.