A lengthy musing on body image, Millay, and the possibility of transformation: a response to Jen

From the Carnival of the Feminists, I found this blog post from Jen, a student at Smith College, on being a young feminist struggling with body image issues.  She writes:

My being a feminist does not, unfortunately, make me immune to the widespread dissatisfaction of women with their bodies. I, too, hate my body. Well, that's not entirely true. My ass is pretty shapely. And I enjoy my surgery scar on my knee. But everything else? There's definitely room for improvement, to say the least.
And see? Even that, I know, is problematic. Seeing my body as something that needs to be improving. Wanting that waifish, bony (read: passive, unaggressive) body is purely a product of the patriarchy.
I know this.

And because I know this, I'm having an ideological dilemma. On the one hand, I have the typical eating-disorder-esque mindset of self-hatred and celery sticks*. On the other, though, I fully recognize and acknowledge that the source of the majority of the aspects of this mindset lie in the way that my mind has been socially constructed to play into the patriarchal beauty myth. I recognize these things, but I cannot change them.

Part of the reason I use this disordered eating is because I want that socially constructed impossible ideal of the 6-pack abs - the "perfect" body. I know that this body is largely unattainable, and my desire to attain this level of "perfection" plays easily into the hands of the patriarchy. But that doesn't mean that the social pressures to attain this ideal affect me any less.
But the main reason that I need these disordered eating patterns is control. It is an explicitly personal need to control my life and what happens in it. It being so explicitly personal, it almost becomes easy to dismiss it as not really part of the patriarchy, because it is my (intrinsic?) "nature" that makes me so reliant on the idea of self-control. It's not, and I know this. After all, the personal is political. And the personal, too, is largely socially constructed.
Even so.
I need that control. And no amount of feminist theory can give that to me.

Bold emphasis is mine.  For some reason, this old Millay line comes to mind:

Pity me that the heart is slow to learn
What the swift mind beholds at every turn.

This is true for so many of us, feminists and non-feminists alike! We go to college, we get filled with all sorts of interesting and useful theories, and we become first-rate students of ourselves and our motivations.  We very quickly discover why we do what we do.  We wax eloquent about the constellation of factors that made us who we are today, about parents and peers and popular culture.  But the intellectual grasp of the nature of the problem is not the same as a solution to it!  Ask any sad and wise alcoholic, who can tell you eloquently why he drinks and is fully aware of what it is doing to him and those who love him, but feels powerless to stop his behavior.

I was moved by Jen's short post.  I've struggled with my own eating disorder/exercise addiction/body dysmorphia for years.  It began in my teens and continues to haunt me, though I am pleased to report that I have an infinitely healthier relationship to food and my own flesh than I did in my youth.  I don't exercise twice a day any longer, I don't try and get by on 800-1000 calories a day while training for a marathon, and I don't weigh what I did at my "adult bottom" (just under 145 pounds on my  6'1"  big-boned frame).  But I still run plenty of miles, lift plenty of weights, take plenty of Pilates classes, and still gaze critically at myself in the mirror.  Yes, though I am 38 and tenured and at peace in my life, I'm still known to exasperate my patient wife with queries about whether or not I look good in a specific outfit.  But praise be, I'm infinitely more self-accepting with each passing year, even as the wrinkles sprout across my skin.

Of course, male privilege affected my own experience with an eating disorder.  In the early 1990s, when my weight plunged below 150 and I became gaunt and emaciated, my friends and family rallied to help me.  Folks told me I looked awful, and that they were worried.  My department secretary asked me privately if I had AIDS (the rumor was going around).  You see, by getting so thin and frail, I was doing something distinctly at odds with the masculine ideal.  My "sickness" was easy to see.  I got help, and I got it quickly.  (I wrote about some of this before, here.)

But I've known plenty of women who've dieted and exercised as hard as I did, and who became just as skinny.  But instead of attracting oodles of worried attention, they got validated.  "You look great!"  "Keep it up!"  "I'm so jealous, how do you do it?"  When I starved myself, I was rejecting a traditional message about manliness; when my female friends starve themselves, they are embracing a very seductive and very dark message about what it means to be a desirable woman.   Though I do not make light of my experience, I do recognize that I got much more attention and support as a man exhibiting anorectic behavior than I would have as a woman in a similar situation.

So what does this have to do with the Jens of the world?  Jen is hopeful about what we can do to reach out to little girls, but though still  young herself, is somewhat despairing of feminism's ability to help her and those like her work through these immensely difficult body issues:

I'm sure there are cases where feminist consciousness has brought someone out of their eating disordered life, but in my case, and in many others', understanding these social implications does not immunize you, or even seriously protect you, from the patriarchy's message that you must attempt to attain this unattainable, "perfect" body. It might allow you to deflect the more blatant indoctrination of this ideal, but I don't think that anything, really, can protect women from the subtle forms of patriarchal control over our bodies.

I do think, however, that feminism's role in this issue of eating disorders is one of prevention, of preventing the indoctrination of young girls into this distorted body image cult. There is, unfortunately, little that can be done about the women who have already been indoctrinated by the patriarchy, an indoctrination that runs much deeper than we could possibly hope to reach. But it can change for the future generations. And, really, it must.

Though I share Jen's commitment to reaching younger girls before they are "indoctrinated", I'm deeply saddened by her belief that there is little we can do for college-aged and older women who have already got years of experience with loathing their own flesh.  Certainly, reciting feminist aphorisms about beauty and identity is insufficient.  And though I have found that spiritual conversion has been an immense source of solace in this regard, I'm not going to crassly suggest that what Jen and other young feminists really need is to "come to Jesus."  Believe me, there are plenty of young women at evangelical colleges whose hearts are on fire for the Lord but who share with their secular sisters an intense hatred of their own flesh! A relationship with Jesus, even if it becomes the Great Fact of one's existence, is not a prophylaxis against the damaging lies of the culture about beauty and the body.

But while neither feminism nor faith is a magic bullet to kill self-loathing, feminism does offer more than theory.  At its best, feminism -- like the church -- is about building community. It's about creating a family of like-minded individuals with similar ideological or theological commitments who are devoted to each other.  So many women, and some men, struggle with comparing their bodies to those of their peers.  Feminist community, at its best, ought to offer a safe haven to women, a place where they can be challenged when they need to be challenged and nurtured when they need to be nurtured.  Above all, feminist community is about creating meaningful, safe, and enduring relationships where men and women can and do hold each accountable for their eating, their exercise, and their own slow and painful progress in extricating themselves from the Great Lie about their own bodies and their worth.  This is more than just an opportunity to bemoan one's shortcomings -- it's an opportunity to hear the truth in love, and to be challenged to take small steps to change one's own behavior and thinking.

I work with teenagers who have exquisitely sensitive bullshit detectors.  One reason I've worked so hard on my own issues around the body (anorexia, compulsive exercise, cutting) is because I feel an intense obligation to show kids who are struggling with similar problems that hope exists, that change can happen.  As they say in Twelve Step programs, "You can't give away something you haven't got."  We can't ask our younger brothers and sisters to overcome problems which still have us bewildered, overwhelmed, and defeated.  Overcoming one's own disordered eating and body dysmorphia is thus not merely about self-improvement and personal happiness, it's about setting an example and transforming the culture.

I have nothing but great sympathy -- and to the extent that it's possible for a man twice her age -- empathy for Jen.  I'm not asking her to try any harder than she's already tried.  But I grieve the tone of despair I sense in her writing, and it reminds me that those of us who are a wee bit older must redouble our efforts to transform our own relationships to our body, and to witness about that transformation to our younger brothers and sisters so desperately in need of that good news.

Comments

[Vacula]

On a personal level, I'm not sure it's possible to reject these messages by effort alone. You can't always "control" your responses to advertising that you disagree with by pure intellectual effort, no matter how much encouragement you get. But it is possible to consciously seek out alternative messages.

Like you said, role models are an extremely important part of the way kids start to see themselves and think about things. I think it's very important for role models to demonstrate how to make positive entertainment choices - not just to "avoid sex and violence" but to pay attention to the movies and magazines we consume and how they affect our emotions and thinking.

I spent an afternoon this summer watching "chick flicks" with my sixteen-year-old younger sister - we put in Bridget Jones' Diary and my sister, who isn't obese but is definitely larger than most of her friends, got up in the middle and said she couldn't take any more. Listening to Renee Zellweger moan about how much she hated herself and her body was making my sister feel physically ill. I knew that stuff was in there and I disapproved of it, but I should have thought harder before throwing it in with just a general disclaimer. We switched to Beauty Shop with Queen Latifah, who starts off with a "Do these pants make my butt look big? Good!" comment and goes on to live life well. Because she felt the impact of the movies so differently, my sister was able to sort out for herself afterwards what she was hearing from each one. I didn't have to initiate any kind of discussion about body image, it was obvious to her that one hurt her and the other helped.

There are lots and lots of "girl power" movies and books out there, some obvious PC beat-you-over-the-head crap and others that just focus on, as one of my favorite authors called it, "girls who DO things". As you said with regard to compliments, it is far more important to emphasize the interests and capabilities of young women than it is to add to their anxiety over body image. Sometimes discussions of bad vs. good body image can add to the stress. In terms of role models it's also imporant to find good ones in pop culture, like Queen Latifah and America Ferrera, whose movies can be a much more palatable way to deal with the issues.

[Hugo]

Vacula, indeed -- sharing info about what pop culture role models "work" to help young folks struggling with these issues is an important task. "Real Women Have Curves", the Ferrera film, resonated with many of my students, who grew up in the same sort of cultural milieu, the same city, and with the same issues as her exquisitely realized character.

[Random Lurker]

This post got me thinking about my own eating disorder/weight issues. This is probably rambling and sort of pointless.

I wonder if the subject of weight in young women (and hell, in North Americans in general) doesn't suffer from a lack of clarity. After all, anyone can eat a healthy diet and get good daily exercise- and this will lead to a healthier and more attractive body in anyone. *Anyone* can do this. It's not unattainable in any way, and it leads to a better overall quality of life. No one benefits from no exercise and a lousy diet.

I consider myself to have a weight issue and an eating disorder, but I'm damn clear that the way to be healthy and happy - AND attractive- is through a reasonable diet and exercise, and a healthy weight. Being underweight obviously doesn't do your skin, hair, nails, energy level or fun-loving personality any favors.

Furthermore, I don't want to look like a fashion model, I want to look like ME. What's idealized as 'The Perfect Body' in the media is such a bizarre, attenuated version of what a healthy attractive young body looks like... I really wonder why everyone loveslovesloves it so much.

I don't consider myself to be particularily enlightened. So I find myself wondering why other women like Jen, who are probably far more intellectual and educated, still find themselves in thrall to this weird ideal of neon skeleton-women. Why is it so hard to shatter the spell of that ideal?

I can't help but think that it's connected to other desires- for acceptence, for status, for wealth, for control- as she said. And that's a big fat DUH right there, I guess. But maybe feminists should try to seperate these issues from the body... and clearly they are, so hey. Useless comment. Sorry. :)

But it did get me thinking, so thanks.

[sophonisba]

What's idealized as 'The Perfect Body' in the media is such a bizarre, attenuated version of what a healthy attractive young body looks like... I really wonder why everyone loveslovesloves it so much.

I don't consider myself to be particularily enlightened. So I find myself wondering why other women like Jen, who are probably far more intellectual and educated, still find themselves in thrall to this weird ideal of neon skeleton-women. Why is it so hard to shatter the spell of that ideal?

Attractiveness doesn't equal beauty. It doesn't equal power. Sexual attractiveness of the sort conferred by a large and robust young female body is not a lot of fun for a lot of people.

Anorexic women are not oblivious to society's message that they are silly for wanting a beauty that's not sexy. Everyone is told over and over that skinniness is a female ideal, that what men really like is T&A, that having a bit of flesh in the right places is what makes you fuckable. Real women have curves, and all that. To a woman with curves (i.e. tits) who does not care to be told what kind of woman she is or what kind of attention she should be glad to have, getting rid of the curves can easily seem like a great fuck-you to it all. Jen's right that a skinny, weak body can easily be read as passive and unaggressive, but all the anorexics I've known personally have molded their bodies out of huge amounts of aggression. Passive resistance, if you will. Looking at anorexia as a simple matter of slavery to the fashion magazines will not get you far.

I've never been anorexic, but that's only because I find it more comfortable to direct anger outward than inward.

[alexander]

Of course, male privilege affected my own experience with an eating disorder.

Hugo, can you enumerate some of the male priveleges? Which ones are set in law? ("privilege" from Latin "privus" + "lex", "private law".)

[Vacula]

Alexander, why would it matter whether or not the things he referrs to are "set in law"? Words certainly aren't limited to the meaning of their original roots.

One aspect of male priviledge that Hugo refers to immediately is the healthier body-size expectation for males in our society than for females - "I was doing something distinctly at odds with the masculine ideal." Obviously such an "ideal" can create other problems, but in this instance it helped that people recognized the danger to his health and tried to help him.

[Rayven]

I find this sort of discussion fascinating because I'm one of the few women I've ever met who doesn't have body issues. (This is not me bragging - sometimes I feel like it must be because I'm just abnormally clueless or something - I just bring it up because if the question is how to avoid those issues, maybe my experience can be a clue).

I think the reason I've managed to avoid them refers to what someone else brought up above -- bringing the focus on something else. In my case, I almost always got my attention and validation from my sports and academics. And the sports that I got attention for were not "feminine" sports like ballet that encourage anorexia, but "tougher" sports like soccer, track, and rugby (which encouraged body types further from the skinny, anorexic "ideal"). These effects in combination with being quite completely average-looking -- in short, not getting much attention to my body one way or another -- made it not much of an issue for me, even when that seemed, in moments of exasperation, to be all my friends would talk about!

In short, while we can't intellectually think ourselves out of our emotions, we can often change them by doing differently. Thus it might be most effective -- for women of all ages -- to focus on making yourself aware of what other societal messages there are, rather than just trying to tune out the damaging ones. Replace the damaging ones, in other words. That's what I got (naturally) by being in situations where the messages were all about my worth in academic or athletic ways - even though the societal messages about diet were there, I just didn't buy into them because I had so much more salient messages coming from other directions. I think you can consciously put yourself in situations where the messages coming in are more what you want to hear, and this will do a lot more to change unconscious motivations than any amount of intellectual "willing" will do.

[Christy]

I'm with Rayven - I think one of the best ways to help young (and older)women obsess about their bodies less is not to spend time talking about Hollywood's glorification of skeletal women or critiquing patriarchy, but rather to encourage women in activities where being skinny is not particularly helpful. Sports, of the non-gymnastic, non-dance variety, are great, as is volunteering and activism. If you are concerned about refugees starving to death in Darfur, then you might be less likely to eat celery for lunch.

It also helps to hang out with people who are not white and middle-class. I've spent most of my adult life in working class communities of color, and I very rarely hear African-American women worrying about their thighs. The feminine ideal of beauty is very different in communities of color and immigrant communities. I've found that very freeing.

Having said all that, I think there is a difference between an eating disorder and not liking your body. Purging and anorexia are not just about patriarchy. Outside of gymnasts, dancers and Hollywood actresses, where there is extraordinary pressure to be unnaturally thin, there is usually something else going on. There is a high correlation between sexual abuse and eating disorders in young women, which is not to say that all women (and men) who have eating disorders have been sexually abused, just that if someone has a serious eating disorder, I don't think critiquing Cosmo is going to do a lot of good. The causes are a lot more complex and personal than that.

[Hugo]

, I wish that I could agree with you that communities of color are immune from anorexia and eating disorders (that may overstate your case).  My student body (pun noted) is well over 65% non-white.   Though it's true that the standards of beauty may vary from culture to culture, the unattainability of those standards seems to be a constant -- and judging from my Latina, Asian, and African-American students, that anxiety is fully equal with that of their middle-class white female peers.

Nice, but brief summary here.  Note this bit:

Unfortunately, eating disorders do not discriminate. Individuals of any race, class, sex, age, ability, sexual orientation, etc. can suffer from an eating disorder. What can and does differ is the individual’s experience of the eating disorder, how health professionals treat them, and finally, what is involved in treating a woman of color with an eating disorder. Research that is inclusive of the women of color eating disorder experience is still quite lacking in comparison to eating disorder research that is conducted from the white ethnocentric viewpoint.