I recently had some time off work and I had decided to spring clean my wardrobe, which was so full and tightly packed that spare space and coat hangers were becoming a precious commodity. I was really excited to do some serious sorting, make some room and hopefully some money by selling some items and donating to my favourite thrift shops.
What I hadn't anticipated was how it would unleash a dragon of despair and lunge me into a place of shame and disappointment. I came across numerous items that I had loved at some point and had to put aside because they didn't fit me anymore.
Sorting through my wardrobe ended up having a surprising outcome for me.
Since being a part of the body positive community and monitoring the
media I expose myself to, I have rarely had negative thoughts and
feelings about my body. However, going through my wardrobe was a bad
day. The shame of putting on weight is terrible in our culture of rigid
beauty standards. As I added to the "save for a thinner day" pile, I
could feel the colour creeping into my cheeks even though I was alone in
the room.
I realised that maybe shame was an odd emotion to feel about this. The very definition of shame is to feel humiliation as a result of doing the wrong thing. It speaks of morality. And it made me wonder - when did thinness become a virtue? Kate Moss said, "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels" as though being skinny is the ultimate prize for depriving oneself.
Have you noticed that health has gone from being a personal decision to a moral obligation, like not jumping the queue or choosing not to drink and drive. Everytime I "eat clean" or do something for my fitness, I feel a terrible urge to Instagram it or Facebook it, to tell the world about my achievement: "I'm not a bad fatty! I'm a good fatty!" I'm not saying this is always the case though - it's okay to be proud of an achievement, like finishing a marathon that you've been training for. But in a lot of cases, the motivation behind "gym selfies" and the sneaker shot is to subtly let others know that you're not a fat, shameful burden on society.
While I've been in the process of writing this post, a good friend sent me the link to an article called
Rise of the Gym Selfies by Lou Heinrich.
"When we take a photo of ourselves and post it on social media, we
are trying to communicate a specific message," says Kellie Hodder, a
psychologist at Bodymatters Australasia, an eating disorders clinic.
"In the case of gym selfies, we are attempting to convey
perhaps that we are hardworking. The pursuit of health is seen as
something to be revered in society. Fitness and health have moral
meanings attached. People who pursue health and fitness are viewed as
being disciplined, motivated, controlled and valued members of society.'
A smug gym selfie doubles as a visual brag then, declaring
with false nonchalance, "I'm better than you." Unhealthy people are
perceived as lazy and undisciplined, so by posting a photo at the gym we
are sharing our moral worth.
I think she's right, and I think it explains why I sometimes feel ashamed about my weight - because it has "moral meanings attached".
But here's the thing: health, actually, isn't a moral issue. You can be fat and good-hearted. And
you can be fat and healthy. And you can be thin and an asshole. And you can be thin and lovely. And you can be a fat dickhead.
So if you're anything like me, and you put on some winter weight....chill. Forgive yourself. Weight fluctuations are a part of life. And in the words of Heinrich, "a newsfeed without duck faces or Lorna Jane would be a relief...Embrace your individual beauty and if you want, get healthy, but don't post a photo about it."
Unless your boyf unloads a box of mandarins all over you. Coz that's funny ;)
