The other day I attended the premiere of a movie that benefited my favorite local non-profit. It was pretty exciting (the movie was great). There was a lot of press in attendance, as well as a couple of photographers hired by the non-profit to document the evening. At one point, a photographer from the local daily newspaper snapped a shot of me with a couple of friends, and I remember being hyper aware of the fact that my arms were bare. I tried to suck in my belly and stick out my chin at the same time.
Two of my friends, at separate points in the evening, told me that I was very photogenic. I thanked them for the compliments, but inside, I was rolling my eyes.
The next morning, I saw several of the photos, and I was really surprised to see how different I looked in a couple of them. In one, I look pretty slim, at least in the face. In another, I have two very distinct chins – not to mention those bare, giant arms.
This got me to thinking about how we perceive ourselves physically, and how others perceive us. Where does the truth lie? You know what they say: beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But how different things seem when we are the beholder!
One of the body-positive blogs that I read faithfully encourages readers to submit photos of their bodies and discuss how they feel about them. I’m continually shocked to see bodies that I see as slim and beautiful where the owners of those bodies talk about their numerous flaws, and how they struggle to accept them. Flat stomach, slim thighs and arms… what’s wrong with these (predominately, of course) women, that they can’t see how good they’ve got it, body-wise? And how am I supposed to feel about my “obese” body with its rolls and stretch marks when someone half my size struggles to love their body?
But it’s just like my friends thinking I’m photogenic, whereas I am super critical of how I look. These women see only their own flaws, and not how beautiful they are. Where I see a flat stomach, they see a belly pooch. I see slim arms and legs; they see saggy skin and weak muscles.
I’ve said it before, and reading that blog reinforces this for me every day: I believe that we all suffer from some level of body dysmorphia. I might feel my body is quite fat, and that my stomach rolls can be seen from space, whereas someone else might think I’m not fat at all, and they have never noticed my fat rolls (the ones I am always sure can be seen no matter what I’m wearing).
What if we could see our bodies the way other people see them – especially the people who love us? Imagine what we’d see in the mirror and in photographs if we looked through the eyes of our mothers, our spouses, our best friends, our children? We would see a completely different body than the one we see reflected back at us every day. A body that is loved and cherished, that is strong and capable, that is so much more than the sum of its parts.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Then let’s learn to look through different eyes, eyes that love us exactly as we are.
