Content Warning: This article discusses restrictive eating, disordered eating behaviors, and body image.
At this point, “All I had today was an iced coffee!” has become somewhat of a Gen Z catchphrase, often announced as though it were a badge of honor. It’s easy to roll our eyes when we hear someone say it unironically, but the remark is a symptom of a very legitimate cultural ill that we are all subjected to.
What exactly is being celebrated? Presumably, it isn’t her experience of hunger, but rather her apparent ability to resist her body’s demands. She sees her ability to neglect a biological need as an accomplishment.
I need not remind anyone that thinness reigns as the dominant beauty standard for women, or that it seems increasingly culturally salient lately. Often, the pursuit of thinness means overriding and ignoring our appetites. As I’ve spent a lot of this past year dismantling the gripping desire to be thin, I’ve realized how odd the glorification of this kind of restraint is. Thinness isn’t an aesthetic ideal that exists in a vacuum. Culturally, I believe thinness has become entangled with our ideas of discipline and willpower to the point where restriction feels like an accomplishment in its own right.
Maybe the girl who only drank iced coffee today genuinely just forgot to eat, and it’s a completely innocent remark. But maybe, as I suspect for many women, it has become a game for her to see how long she can go without eating. It might begin with her swapping whole milk and sugar for a splash of unsweetened almond milk and three stevia packets. She starts to feel guilty going out to Tres Hombres for Tuesday margs and tacos with her girlfriends and ordering in Wingstop with her roommates within the same week. She orders a chicken sandwich with a gluten-free bun not because she can’t tolerate gluten, but because it is 30 calories less than the regular bun. She decides to work out an extra day because it’s her birthday this weekend and her mom is making red velvet cake– her favorite.Â
Before she knows it, she is making every decision on the basis of how it aligns with her goal of getting thin and staying thin. She is plagued by the fear of “falling out of line” and consuming more calories than she can “afford.” It has become all about meticulously monitoring and controlling her body. She might recognize how much anxiety it is giving her, but relinquishing control feels entirely unthinkable.
Regardless of what we are trying to manage, I believe that the insatiable desire for control often presents itself similarly. A great media representation of the pursuit of perfection can be found in the protagonist of Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan (2010). Nina (played by Natalie Portman) has dedicated her entire life to becoming the perfect ballerina. For her, this has required a remarkable degree of discipline in how she manages her body, focus, and behavior. On the other hand, her rival, Lily (played by Mila Kunis), is praised for how she carries herself in a way that feels effortless, uninhibited, sensual, spontaneous, and free. This energy is apparent in her performance as a ballerina, and it sets her apart.Â
Of course, Lily benefits from being conventionally attractive, but Nina is no less beautiful by those same standards. What sets Lily apart isn’t her appearance, but the freedom she seems to possess within her own body. Nina executes choreography with stellar precision, but Lily moves with an ease and uninhibitedness that Nina struggles to attain.
This tense contrast between these two women is so compelling because, maybe for the first time in her life, Nina cannot simply work harder to achieve what she lacks. The very qualities Lily seems to possess require something Nina has never learned to do: Relinquish control. Nina has learned how to control her body, but Lily has learned to fully inhabit hers.Â
Not all of us know what it takes to be a talented ballerina like Nina. But when it comes to our relationships with our bodies, many of us can relate to the way she white-knuckles her way through life in pursuit of perfection.Â
Now, here’s how I see it. When we start viewing our bodily cues, like hunger, as something to completely manage and fight against rather than listen to, we are setting a dangerous precedent in how we operate. Those who restrict to an unhealthy degree have fundamentally severed themselves from their own intuition and ability to trust themselves. And I believe there is so much beauty within the ability to deeply trust yourself and and just enjoy life.
Isn’t it ironic? In our efforts to become more attractive, we might be stripping away some of the qualities that make us captivating in the first place. But even if these efforts do bring us closer to the beauty we’re after, I do wonder what it means to achieve that beauty at the expense of being able to really enjoy ourselves.
I think most of us are not ready to give up on the desire to be beautiful. That is a very tall ask. However, maybe we don’t have to abandon that desire entirely. Instead, we can begin by questioning what we’re willing to sacrifice in pursuit of beauty, and whether those sacrifices are worth making in the first place.
This is much easier said than done. But I urge you, the next time you hesitate to allow yourself to indulge a bit, remember this: Being a woman who unapologetically enjoys her life is perhaps the most beautiful thing you can be.
If you or someone you know is struggling with disordered eating or an eating disorder, resources and support are available through the National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA).