This week I had the opportunity to spend two hours with a dozen other women in their twenties and thirties, discussing our wants, needs and insecurities when it comes to how we dress ourselves.
The one thing that really stood out to me was how universal our insecurities are. I listened to a younger woman talk about her concerns about her figure and needing to cover up or hide certain areas of her body. Meanwhile, as the heaviest woman in the room I looked at her and felt a strange mix of emotions. First, envy, she was petite, young, attractive, dressed trendily, and yet she felt the exact same insecurities that I feel every day.
While I do sometimes struggle with feeling empathy for the woman who wants to lose ten or fifteen pounds, there is nothing to say that my feelings are any more difficult to bear than that womans. Others experiences do not diminish our own, and our internal dialogue can be debilitating.
Lately I've been consciously listening to the way I talk to myself. Depression comes with a whole barrage of self-esteem issues, when I am at my lowest I can't be bothered with makeup because I feel that it is a waste of time and that nothing could improve my appearance. Now when I look in the mirror and hear my voice silently telling me 'You look terrible', 'You're so ugly', 'Why do you even try?' I ask myself, is that what I would say to my best friend? How would I feel if I heard someone say that to her?
Horrified.
I can be much kinder to me when I treat myself like a friend.
Whether you have fifteen or eighty-five pounds to lose, the smaller number doesn't necessarily make your journey easier. Of course I am coming from a purely speculative position here as I am the one with the bigger number to lose.
Image source: Έλενα Λαγαρία
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