TW: mentions of body dysmorphia, weight loss/gain.
“Suck in. You have to make this fit,” I thought to myself. My frustration was continually growing as I made a valiant attempt to squeeze into my favorite leather mini-skirt. “This fit me so well last year, there’s no way it doesn’t fit now.” I finally managed to zip up the skirt, only to be displeased with how it hugged all the wrong curves. Immediately I became hyper-aware of all the ways that my body is not perfect and all of the improvements that could be made.
And then I remembered—I bought this skirt when I was depressed.
Since starting college, I’ve noticed that my weight and my mental health have almost a direct correlation. Early on in my sophomore year, I went through a terrible phase of depression and anxiety. I was dealing with heartbreak, among other things, and had completely lost my desire to eat. No food appealed to me and what little I could stomach would often come right back up.
I was miserable…but my body looked “great.” I would often get comments about how good I looked. I remember one comment in particular. Word had gotten out that I had lost a lot of weight and a friend remarked, “I’m so jealous! I wish I could lose that kind of weight!”
Comments like that confused me. I was so sad that my body had physically lost its desire to eat—and people were jealous? It was almost comical. “If only they knew the real secret to weight loss,” I would chuckle to myself. “Depression with a healthy dose of anxiety.”
That one small comment from a friend demonstrated a much larger problem at hand: the prevalence of body dysmorphia among college women. Body dysmorphia is defined as “the sense of dissatisfaction with one’s body, and the sense that their body is flawed or defective.” It is commonly associated with eating disorders, although I would argue that even those with regular eating habits may battle dysmorphic thought patterns. In fact, I witness it among my peers every day.
Weighing out meal portions, obsessively going to the gym or being unable to avoid self-deprecating comments about weight when engaging in a conversation. There is a whole culture of weight loss, dieting and exercise that is so prevalent on college campuses. An attempt to appear “healthier” can oftentimes be the most toxic thing a person can do to themselves.
It’s no wonder that women, in particular, battle these disordered thought patterns. From a young age, girls are taught that their bodies are projects that constantly need to be improved. We are sold the idea that things like diets and exercise will make us prettier, skinnier or sexier. These are the things we are taught we need to be in order to succeed in life, and it’s a poisonous mindset to buy into.
I’ve been the skinny girl—and I was miserable. People tend to think that if their bodies look a certain way, all of their problems will be solved. They’ll finally get the love and acceptance they’ve always craved, if only they can achieve the toned abs and the nice butt. From first-hand experience, this isn’t the case.
That leather mini-skirt doesn’t fit the way it used to, but the person wearing it is much happier. I’ve gained weight because my mental health has improved. My body finally decided to eat again. I have healed the parts of me that were broken.
I have learned that my body is deserving of respect at all phases of life. When I was depressed and skinny, I needed to nurture it back to health. Now that I weigh more, I maintain its health by eating well and moving every day. Instead of doing it to be skinnier or sexier, I do it to maintain my happiness. Wellbeing is not determined by how we look, but rather by how we feel.
Learning to embrace and love your body at all stages isn’t an easy task, but it is well worth it in the end. Being skinny won’t make you happy. Only self-love and appreciation can do that.