Body Image

A project that I have been working on lately has required that I go digging in places where old photographs live.   I have looked in boxes in the basement, in photo albums, in the cedar chest, and it has been quite a little trip down memory lane.

I have seen family photos taken at every stage of our lives, collectively and individually.  Life is one continuous series of changes. Growing, changing, graduating, birthing, moving, growing up, moving on, etc.    I have seen pictures of the various places we have lived.  One thing I observed from that is that as far back as 1972, which would be forty years ago, I always made some attempt at growing a vegetable garden, wherever I lived. My conclusion is that I must really like to watch things grow.

Looking at old pictures of oneself is an odd experience, at least it is for me.  And it is an odd experience because when I see pictures now of what I looked like then,  I know that I did not feel like the pictures looked.  It is hard to explain and put into words.  Mostly it has to do with self-esteem and self-image and self-concept.   The self in my head has never been entirely in sync with the embodied self.

I saw pictures of me in my slimmer days.  There were a number of those time frames over the years, in my 20's, 30's and 40's.  Now I can see that there were times when I looked really great,  but I know, because I lived in my own head, that I never felt like I looked great.   I don't know how to explain that or even understand it, exactly.

In my early 20's,  once, I lost 50 pounds in a three month period, and went from a very large size to a very small size in a short period of time.   But I was unable to see that difference in the mirror. My inside could not comprehend my outside.

Now that I ponder all of this,  I can see that I was able to internalize being the overweight person,  but I was never able to internalize being the slender person.

While it makes me happy to see pictures of a beautiful young woman,  it also makes me a little sad, knowing that I never lived in her skin.

1982

Addendum:  After writing this, I looked up body image dysmorphia, having heard of that.  My own mental discrepancy between reality and perception does not rise to that level.  I have not suffered from anxiety, depression, nor compulsive behaviors associated with this mental peculiarity.