I spent the night before I left for winter break crying to my friends. I opened the floodgates, ignoring my anxieties and sharing my recent body image issues. I have come incredibly far with my efforts to eat and exercise in ways that nourish, not drain, my emotional and physical health. However, in the weeks leading up to winter break, whispers of inaccurate and harmful rhetoric about food and exercise from a little invisible creature had been getting louder, and its presence had been creeping upon my shoulder more frequently.
I shared with my friends that, despite this creature’s intimidation, I generally liked my body and felt confident in it. However, I also shared that if certain things about my body were to change, I would no longer like those parts of my body and my confidence would diminish. I was fearful of such potential changes.
I felt mostly positive about my body, but that positivity was somehow fueling this evil creature. It’s good to love your body, the creature would say, and you love your body at this moment. So be sure to keep it this way, even if it means doing something you know isn’t good for you. Or, regarding the aspects of my body I didn’t feel positively about, the creature would say, it’s good to love your body, and you don’t love this part of your body at this moment. So be sure to change it, even if it means doing something that you know isn’t good for you.
Although I knew following the creature’s sentiment would be harmful and that I should love my body’s healthy and natural changes, the creature insisted that loving such changes would be too difficult. I thought the best thing to do would be to keep my body the same so I could continue loving it. After all, why would loving my body be a bad thing?
After learning how I had been feeling, one of my friends said that the pestering of this creature is why she admires the concept of body neutrality over body positivity. This friend and I both participated in Tufts Burlesque Troupe last semester, where we learned about the notion of body neutrality. In our first rehearsal, we talked about what it meant to hold a body-neutral stance. We discussed how, instead of telling each other certain parts of our bodies looked good, we should avoid evaluative comments about our bodies altogether and instead focus on complementing each other’s confidence, energy or facial expressions.
I was initially skeptical about embracing body neutrality and rejecting body positivity. The body positivity movement has gained significant traction over the last few years, and its strong presence on social media and in daily conversation made me believe the best thing I could do for my body was to love it unconditionally. Why should I not love my body? And why should I not express positivity for other people’s bodies?
It wasn’t until my friend brought up her appreciation of body neutrality during my crying episode that I began to think more deeply about its value. I reread the statement the TBT executive board wrote about body neutrality in a document for the audience members to read before our shows began. They wrote, “Body neutrality means taking a neutral stance toward one’s own body, both emotionally and physically. Taking pressure off ourselves to always love our bodies also takes pressure off us to constantly qualify ourselves. By de-centering the idea of always having to love everything about our bodies, the time and energy we invest in dwelling on its limitations also decreases. Instead, we like to focus on nourishing our bodies and practicing gratitude for what they can do for us!”
I thought about this message deeply and sought to apply these principles to my own thinking and behavior over break. When I was about to eat something nourishing to either my body or soul, and heard the creature telling me I would not love my body if I ate it, I told the creature it would be okay if I didn’t love my body. When I looked in the mirror and did not love something about my body, instead of feeling guilty for not loving how I looked, I told myself that it was okay — it’s neither necessary nor even beneficial to love every part of my body. This shift in mindset was extremely valuable for me. Now, the creature frequents my shoulder less and its remarks are less, well, remarkable.
For many people, feeling completely positive about their bodies may be unrealistic and attempting to unconditionally love their bodies may actually be harmful. I have come to realize that subconsciously internalizing societal remarks and expectations about women’s bodies — both explicit and implicit — has made it extremely difficult to love every aspect of my body. I am now comfortable with the idea that I may never feel positive about my body all the time. This comfort with accepting discomfort has made treating my body with respect easier and made nourishing my soul with food less stressful.
Although I don’t believe the body positivity movement is ill-intentioned, I believe for some, subscribing to it may do more harm than good. A more neutral stance on our bodies may just be what some of us need, giving us a chance to free ourselves from unrealistic pressure and the annoying nag of an idiotic shoulder creature.
