Thursday, June 11, 2009

Body image or why I can never stop straightening my shirt.

For a long time I thought I had body dysmorphic disorder.

Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) (previously known as Dysmorphophobia[1] and sometimes referred to as Body dysmorphia) (also known as "Dysmorphic syndrome," and "Dysmorphophobia"[2]) is a psychiatric disorder in which the affected person is excessively concerned about and preoccupied by an imagined or minor defect in his or her physical features.

Now I just think I'm human.

I know this all started somewhere. At some point when I was very young the idea crept into my head that I didn't look like I was supposed to. Maybe it was because my sister was in beauty pageants and I wasn't. That always made me feel ugly, because why couldn't I do it too? I just assumed I was the gross kid. I watched a lot of grown up movies at a young age, so maybe it was seeing older woman in film that cinched it. I remember being in kindergarten and thinking I was fat. It's true. I've felt that way ever since, and not just fat but all kinds of things. I happened to be born with crazy curly hair that was different and sometimes frizztastic. I happened to be born with a form of strabismus, which in simple terms means that there is a defective neurological signal to my eyes that have, over time, made them weak. Despite surgery. It's mostly cosmetic and still I've hated myself for it. But who cares about any of those things? Curly hair and curves and non perfect muscles don't make someone ugly. But try telling that to a teen girl.

Somewhere along the line someone told me I was pretty. I don't remember who but it could have been my mom. I grew older and did more shows and although I always felt too gross to be worthy of a leading lady role, I still got noticed in the theatre scene. I didn't understand it but I accepted it. Guys started becoming interested in me, which was really very baffling to this scared girl who always wanted to stay home and hide herself under the covers.

I started becoming aware that I had something men wanted but I couldn't figure it out. Then I became aware that my girlfriends actually believed I was pretty too - and this I could not understand at all. This I could not accept.

In time I eventually grew to believe that I could make myself tolerable with enough make up and hair product. I had boyfriends, I left them, I dated I got married. Somewhere in my early twenties my best friend had this idea that we should take artsy, risque photos of ourselves for fun. We did, and it was great and I started to believe that if I could force myself to do this kind of art I may be able to find a way out of my self loathing. It helped a lot - those photos were not always easy for me to do, but I'm so glad I found a way to become uninhibited with a trusted friend.

Now here I am, 26, and at times I am no better than I was twenty years ago. Where is the switch that I can turn on that allows me to let go of this nonsense feeling of not being worthy enough? When do I reach the point of feeling like my hips and belly and hair and eyes and skin and ass are actually beautiful? Life is too short. I never want to feel anything less than amazing.

What's important is that I KNOW these thoughts are old patterns and unhealthy ones too. I don't hold anyone but myself to these ideals - and I think they are silly notions that should be done away with all together. I'm getting better. I'm getting there.

A few tricks I've learned along the way, for those dealing with these same issues.

1. When someone complements you, do not negate them. Take it in. Believe it and remember it so you can recall it if you're feeling down.

2. Take photos of yourself and note all the positives. There are many.

3. Understand that some people are meant to be curvy and some skinny and some in between. Sometimes there isn't anything you can do about that.

4. People are born with all kinds of issues. Learn to love it. You can't always change everything you dislike about yourself.

5. Stop comparing yourself to other people. You wont ever be anyone but yourself.


It's not a pretty blog. It's just something I deal with from time to time.

....I'm bad at ending blogs......

3 comments:

  1. This stuff is so insidious. Sometimes it helps me to remember that there is an entire industry devoted to making me feel bad about myself so that I'll buy things. Then I get all rebellious, and say, "Aha! I'm onto you. Well good luck diet/cosmetic industries, 'cause you can't fool me anymore!" Then I feel all right at least some of the time.
    And for the record, I've always thought you were madly pretty.

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  2. I agree with you about the industry and the rebellion and the everything else. It is so entrenched in us. I know it isn't right, but I know I'm not alone.

    And thanks for the compliment. I've always thought the same of you.

    Take that!

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  3. I get it, I do. But I always KNEW you were the pretty one in and amongst our group of friends. In fact, I think that is why a certain someone seemed to always be gunning for you, she couldn't stand that you were the pretty one and that you didn't even realize it. Amost as if you must have been lying about your insecurities and that deep down you totally knew you were the pretty one. Whereas I thought that you not knowing that you were the pretty one made you more endearing and charming in a devil may care sort of way.

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