Age 25

This post is hard for me to write. I've gone back and forth about whether or not I should write it. I don’t like being vulnerable and this post is going to make me extremely vulnerable. I want to start off by saying that I am not a victim and don’t plan on making this post around being a victim – but I have body image issues because of my scars and I feel like the only honest way to address them is to be upfront about it.

My number one body image issue I have had to deal with my entire life is burns. It’s something that I've come to accept and most days they don’t bother me. That doesn't mean that there aren't days where I would rather hide from the world and be a recluse, but most days I am okay with them and sometimes even like them.

For those of you wondering, I was burned in house fire when I was 3 years old. Over 50% of my body was burned and I have 20+ skin grafts and various other surgeries because of it. I’m telling you this because it was extremely hard to grow up being “different.” Kids are jerks. They’re mean and I was teased relentlessly about it. It did a number on my self-esteem. I really hated my body because of it for a really long time. Obviously scars aren't the prettiest things on the planet, but they’re part of me and there isn't anything I can do it change it.

Even though I can’t do anything to change it, my family made sure that I knew I had been burned on a daily basis (and sometimes still bring it up). What I mean is they’d say things like, “You were such a pretty baby. You would have been so pretty if you hadn't been burned.” Or, “You shouldn't wear a tank top. You should cover your scars up more.” Heaven forbid I show any imperfection or anything that isn't the norm. It was hard to deal with. I feel like I’m more insecure about it because of the way they handled it.

Age 23

Diet Lie #1: Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels...

Bullshit.

The first time I really tried to diet, and I mean really tried - not the dozens of times in high school when I would count calories for exactly three days and then give up and eat Taco Bell - I told myself over and over that nothing could ever taste as good as being thin would feel. I don't know when I first learned that phrase; it just floated in the ether of diet/body-hate wisdom I continuously and subconsciously internalized, but I immediately found it comforting. What better way could there be to talk myself out of eating a cookie? The cookie would only taste good for a few minutes, but once I got thin I would be happy for life! I just had to keep my eye on the prize - the payoff would be worth it.

The trouble is, it wasn't true. After seven months of dieting (which should probably be more accurately referred to as the beginning stages of anorexia), I had lost almost 50 pounds and was well below my original BMI goal. I was 5'4'' and weighed 105 pounds. Others, including my boyfriend, told me I was beginning to look too thin, but I thought I looked great. Actually, to be perfectly honest, I still thought my belly stuck out. I was still not entirely comfortable in a bathing suit, but I sure felt better about my weight than I did before.

And yet, being thin didn't feel good.

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You Are More Beautiful Than You Think

Age 23

Like Her Momma
I was watching the Tyra Show this afternoon and it was an episode about young girls that hated what their face looked like. They had the mothers of these young girls on the show as well, and it was said that if the mother didn't like how she looked, the daughter would internalize that feeling and manifest it. "If Momma looks in the mirror and criticizes herself, her daughter would do the same, like her Momma.”

Sitting there on the couch watching this show, it hit me. I think my mother is a very pretty woman. She keeps herself up well, her makeup and hair always looks nice, and she dresses well for her body.
But it wasn't always this way. She used to be quite overweight and that is how I remember her for most of my childhood years. My father would be extremely focused on her appearance and constantly put her down because of how she looked. And I hated him for it. For years, I could barely talk to him or be around him because of the way he treated my mother. And I secretly felt paranoid every time I cracked open a pint of Ben & Jerry's or helped myself to seconds at dinner because I felt he was watching me with that internal disapproval - the same disapproval he looked at my mother with.

So I became an exercise addict for most of my high school years and did not eat well at all. I would starve myself during the day, go to track practice and work out hard, then come home and eat dinner like maniac because my body was so deprived. Oftentimes I would stay up late at night and binge eat as well. It didn't help that my sister had gone through this very same cycle a couple years before, so I felt like I wasn't being abnormal.

But I hated myself and my body. I'd look in the mirror and loathe what I saw, even if to everyone else I was a completely normal, healthy weight. I was obsessive about myself, all because of how my father treated my mother. She tried to lose weight and took a lot of crap from my dad over the years, and I admire the heck out of her for that. She is an incredibly strong woman today and has come a LONG way from where she was. I'm so proud of her.

It makes me realize that as a woman and a mother in future years, I need to be so careful of how I treat myself because my daughters will follow my example. The last thing I want is for them to feel what I felt about myself. It's taken some time, but I have started to accept and love my body for what God made it to be...healthy and not legalistic. To move my body and exercise, not because it will make me lose weight, but because I love how I feel when I'm done. I still have "fat days" like any woman and just want to curl up in sweatpants on the couch. But then I have to remind myself - beauty comes in so many different shapes, sizes, skin tones, lip sizes, hair colors and textures...and I want my daughter to someday look in the mirror, see her flaws and all, and think she's beautiful, like her Momma.

"You are not your bra-size, nor are you the width of your waist or the slenderness of your calves. You are not the amount of sit-ups you can do, nor are you the amount of calories in a day. You are not a little red dress...you are the content of your character. You are the ambitions that drive you, the goals that you set. You are beautiful and desirable not for the clique you attend, but for the spark of life within you that compels you to make your life a full and meaningful one. You are beautiful not for the shape of the vessel, but for the volume of the soul it carries."

Age 16

As a child, I was absolutely perfect. Cute, shoulder-length hair and very SKINNY. It happened in about elementary school when I noticed something about this little girl. She wasn't as skinny as everyone else. So to handle my concerns and worries I turned to food. Ice cream, sweets, soda, almost anything that would fill my insecurities. It always seemed to work so the habit persisted and I fostered it ‘til I became a very chubby child.

Fast forward to middle school. Everyone seemed to be all loved up with their boyfriends and girlfriends, but I was alone. Already having a destroyed self esteem from the bullying in elementary school, this only made things worse. And being the very shy and introverted person I am, I didn't tell anyone about my feelings. Instead I ate them away.

Now I'm in high school. A junior and still FAT. My life has been spiraling down ever since elementary. But now it's taken a turn for the absolute worst. I stare in the mirror daily just looking at all the unattractive features I have. Instead of over eating, now I've turned to anorexia. I have a rubber band on my wrist that I snap on my skin after I eat to punish myself. And today I ate a slice of pizza and held back tears of guilt and shame.

I feel like I can't save myself. Anorexia has literally become a person to me. It's no longer just an ED. It's a girl who sits in my mind and thoughts all day just reminding me of how fat I am. Telling me to lose weight so I can finally get the love I want so badly. And even though she hurts me it kills me inside, I want so badly to be her friend. I want her to tell me she's proud of me for skipping meals. I want her praise for exercising for at least an hour and a half every day.

But more than anything I WANT TO BE SKINNY. I crave it like the air I breathe. Yet I don't want this life. I don't want her in my life. So why do I keep doing this to myself? I want to be free, yet I hold on to the chains that surround me.

To This Day

Take a moment to watch this stunning video by Shane Koyczan...and listen. Carefully.

False Advertising

JAM Films produced this documentary, False Advertising, to help women start thinking critically about the media and how they define what is considered "beautiful."

Age 17

Looking at myself everyday getting ready for school in the morning is almost rewarding. I have started to take care of myself, I started CrossFit (so motivational and comforting) and I look at myself and smile.

I look at myself and smile because of the progress and how I've stuck with it. I am currently doing a project for a class on body image in teens. So I googled "body image in teens" and I came across your blog. This is so amazing that you started this - I am so inspired.

Thank you for starting this.

I’m sure it has made so many girls feel confident about themselves and I’m happy you started it.

I am 17 years old, under a lot of stress trying to finish high school and get into college.

I am going to college for personal training and nutrition. I weigh 170 and am so proud of myself.

I have hips, a large butt and a small bust. I love my body and your blog made me realize how important it is.

Thank you and I hope you see this someday and smile.

Meghan Tonjes Response Video

Age 27

"I don't think you understand," I cried to my Mom. "I feel about my skin the way anorexics and bulimics feel about their bodies. Only I kind of envy them because at least they can do something about their weight. There is nothing I can do to make my skin clear up." Later in the conversation, I told her she was a bad mother for not being ashamed to be seen with me in public. Logically, I knew I was talking crazy, but my rational mind obviously was not in charge at the moment. I was throwing a temper tantrum because I wanted my acne to go away, and some achingly young part of me expected that my Mom could fix everything. She was baffled and protested that she thought I was fine, that she had not taught me about makeup and hairstyles because she thought I wasn't interested. I expected her to observe me close enough to know that this apparent disinterest was just clever camouflage. I was pretending I didn't care because it was the only way I could deal with hating my looks so much. Now I know that she was so afraid that insisting I wash my face or wear foundation would give me a complex of some kind that she erred by moving to the opposite extreme, leaving me without any information or support.

People with acne are invisible in our culture in a way that even overweight people are not. Plus size models are now depicted in ads alongside skinny ones, but you won't find any zits in popular culture. I take that back, there are exactly two places acne can be seen on TV: 1) ads for Proactiv, Clearasil and other acne products, and 2) in a comedy when a girl gets one zit the night before the prom and it's a huge tragedy. (Usually, when the camera zooms in on her face, the zit is practically invisible.) In fact, now may be the worst time in history to have bad skin. Because of Photoshop and airbrushing, we’re bombarded with images of perfect skin that is unachievable even for people without persistent breakouts. These Photoshop face fixes look natural and are even harder to spot than the waist-whittling seen so often on magazine covers and in catalogs. Even though our current vogue for thinness feels eternal and ubiquitous, there have been historical periods and cultures that encouraged weight gain and viewed plumpness as a sign of beauty (as well as relative wealth and privilege). On the other hand, clear skin is so central and universal in beauty standards that there is no culture in the world that has ever seen pocked, inflamed skin as attractive. Our reaction to seeing a pimple-covered face is visceral revulsion. This is an ingrained, evolved response that helped our ancestors avoid disease. Nowadays, we automatically think zits make someone look careless, unclean and immature. It's a stereotype without a name or an -ism.

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