“You are so fat!” “You’re disgusting!” Who is going to love you if you look like that?” “How can he stand looking at you with your disgusting stomach and your double chin?”
These were just a few of the many things I used to say to myself. The irony was that the more depressed I felt, the more I shamed myself.
For a good chunk of my life I used to be thin. I was very active. I used to compete in dancing and exercise regularly.
I was 22 when it happened.
I was practicing for an upcoming dance show with someone who wasn’t my usual dance partner. We were working on several flashy moves and suddenly… he stopped. He stopped me in the middle of a trick we were working on causing my knees to grind into the floor at a very fast acceleration rate.
Physical therapy took 4 months. I was told that I would never be able to dance again. So, I stopped exercising altogether. If I couldn’t dance, what was the point?
I was 24 when my friend died. She was close to my age. She suddenly developed leukemia. She was getting better. Until she didn’t.
My world crashed. I gave up. I was put on an antidepressant and was told to seek therapy. I wasn’t exercising. I gave up caring what I ate. My skin was ashen and I was just going through the motions.
I gained 30 pounds in 1 month. Being very short, I looked like I gained a lot more than that.
My family and friends thought I was pregnant. It was both heartbreaking and deeply shaming to tell them that I wasn’t.
“Nope. Just fat,” I would joke, putting myself down.
And the self-bullying kept getting worse. I would look in the mirror and I hated the person I saw.
“You’re disgusting!” I would tell myself.
I would judge every part of myself, especially my non-flat stomach, my round cheeks, and my double chin. Though I would never ever judge anyone else that way. That’s why the video below really spoke to me.
Sometimes I would shame myself into exercising.
“Go to the gym, you fat ugly pig!”
I’d sign up for a gym membership, or yoga, or try running. But the weight wouldn’t come off as quickly as I wanted it to, I would get discouraged and quit. After a while, I stopped posting pictures of myself on Facebook and was unwilling to reconnect with old friends for the fear that they would judge me as harshly as I judged myself. Interestingly, none of them ever did, I was harsher on myself than anyone else was on me.
It wasn’t until a few years ago that I started learning about self-compassion. Self-compassion refers to connecting to yourself in a kind, compassionate way. It includes 3 components: mindfulness, common humanity and self-kindness.
Mindfulness is noticing when you are struggling, so for me, it was noticing when I was judging myself for my appearance. Common Humanity is realizing that you are not alone in your struggle. Millions of people, men and women alike, fat-shame themselves. And everyone struggles with trying to be accepted and loved. So perhaps, instead of alienating ourselves for how we look, we can see it as a common human experience and realize that everyone in our lives likely struggles with the very same feelings one way or another.
Finally, self-kindness refers to being as kind to ourselves as we would be to our loved ones in the same situation. Most of us, myself included, would never say as mean of things to others as we do to ourselves.
For me, I would always be able to find beauty in others but I never could in myself. Until about two years ago. I was at a self-compassion training retreat and the instructor invited us to think about the very thing we shame ourselves about the most. For me, that was my “fat, ugly” stomach. Then the instructor asked us to notice where in our bodies we experience shame. Well, wouldn’t you know it? My shame lives in my stomach. I felt it, sharp like a sword penetrating my guts.
And then I got it – I was shaming myself in the very area of my body that needed love and compassion the most. The very area that needed love and acceptance. Prompted by the self-compassion teacher, we then practiced offering soothing touches and kind words to the part of our body where we felt shame. I cradled my stomach the way I would hold a child to close to myself.
“I love you. I’m so sorry.”
This was life changing for me. Don’t get me wrong. I did not stop shaming myself altogether. I still struggle with it every day. But it became easier for me to accept myself for who I am and how I looked. I started exercising not to lose weight but because I wanted to get healthier. Almost two years into it, I’m still going. I lost 30 pounds (though I gained 10 of it back). I ran my first half marathon and just signed up for my first marathon.
I still struggle. Every day. But I’ve started noticing when others fat-shame themselves and I made it my mission to not let people suffer alone.
When I first met my partner, he was so ashamed of what he called his “fat ugly” stomach, that he hit himself in the gut. Like I used to do to myself. I took his hands away and kissed his stomach.
“Your stomach is beautiful, just like you,” I said to him.
He now says that to me when I judge myself for my looks and the size of my stomach. The truth is, we all struggle. Many of us might have been harshly bullied for how we look or felt hopeless and suicidal.
I am here to tell you that you are beautiful. All of you. Each and every part. I hope you realize how beautiful you truly are.
Much love,
Dr. Scarlet.
Dr. Janina Scarlet is a Licensed Clinical Psychologist, a scientist, and a full time geek. She uses Superhero Therapy to help patients with anxiety, depression, and PTSD at the Center for Stress and Anxiety Management. Her book, “Superhero Therapy” with Little, Brown Book Group released on December 1, 2016 in the U.K. and is expected to be released with New Harbinger on August 1, 2017.
If you would like to learn more about Superhero Therapy, please feel free to contact Dr. Janina Scarlet via Twitter @shadowquill, Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Shadow.Scarletl, or via her website at www.superhero-therapy.com
