TW: body dysmorphia
Forgive me for just one moment, for I am about to get serious and also very straight to the point. Amongst the piles of homework, tedious nights working towards my future, and all the in-betweens of college life, the biggest and most terrifying struggle I have gone through is facing myself and my body dysmorphia in the mirror.
As a constantly evolving woman in a society built on the tomb of utter perfection and appearance, I’ve had my battles to say the least. In my experience, body dysmorphia does this silly little thing where she likes to disappear and then resurface. As I flourished from a childlike-being into womanhood, I found myself at a loss of words as I turned from girl to woman. In the battle of my life versus my body, I thought I had won. But it turns out, just as my body evolves, so do my thoughts about her. They fluctuate insanely, going up and down and up again. More recently, they have been down, and I’ve been forced to face the truth about my body.
The Hard Truth
The hard truth is simply that I am no longer a girl. I am a woman. This truth, while it hurt at first, is something I am currently relishing in. Every case of body dysmorphia is unique to its person, and while those negative thoughts may linger every now and then, I am learning to embrace the body I inhabit. I feel like I have lived in a world so catered towards the male gaze and how a woman should look. I sometimes feel stuck, unable to grow outside the seed of adolescence and her standards for beauty.
My confidence had been stunted all because I didn’t like the way I was growing, yet all I was doing was simply becoming a woman. I used to be so afraid of doing just that- leaving behind the girl and body I knew so well. Familiarity had grown into comfort and suddenly, that comfort was gone. The blanket of adolescence had since been thrown away.
It’s All About Grace
I am at a huge fault for one reason and that reason is that I do not give myself enough grace- enough grace just to live and breathe. Why would I want to spend my life tearing my body apart in a mirror, whose only fighting words back at me are a look of reminiscence for what once was? I was not ready to change, and that was when the body dysmorphia began to resurface. I was perfectly healthy and beautiful in my own way, and yet this mindset seemed impossible for me to have. I was blinded by the girl I knew before, and the body she thought was hers. My body is not a possession. It was granted to me to take care of and cherish no matter what challenges she faces. I believe if bodies don’t grow, then they’ll be stuck on the same life path forever. And who wants to be stuck in the same place forever? That’s just boring.
As I Age, So Will My Body
My arms have changed. My stomach is different. My legs (yes, they’re super sexy and strong now because I’m a dedicated gym rat) are growing. As my body changes, so does my age. I like to think of this in reverse. As I age, so will my body, and that’s exactly how life should be. It’s okay that I don’t have the body I did three years ago. It’s much more than okay because it’s normal. To me, being a woman means embracing the changes that adulthood brings my way. I’ve been handed a new college body on a silver platter. And she looks fine as hell.
Living life amongst the mirrors in a society with people who are so obsessed with looking in them, truly changes the way I view my beloved body. And being immersed in a college atmosphere where everything has the potential to affect my mental and physical well-being makes that change even harder. Loving my new- and what I consider recently improved- college body takes time and grace, but every new day is a day to embrace it. For me, embracing this body instead of tearing her apart, means embracing my newfound womanhood and all she has to offer. Change is quite literally terrifying, but looking in the mirror never should be.