Gah. Right in the feels. I probably have a stack of Shape magazines in basement for my 1994 “New Year, New You!” scrap book 🤢 Excuse me while I burn them all 🔥
Alexa, you made my week! When I read your work, I felt like I was meeting my middle school BFF. I still can’t walk through the grocery freezer aisle without accidentally looking for a Slimfast freezer dinner. And you were doing my dream job! I think that’s why I love Substack. It’s my magazine dream come to life. But even better, because I get to connect with people like you!
Passing the self-loathing down from one generation to the next.' That line. I've been thinking about how much of what I believed about my own body wasn't even mine to begin with. This piece did real work.
I'm X-ennial, but I also started my first diet at 13. I asked my mom if we could go to Weight Watchers together the summer between 7th and 8th grades because I saw a picture of myself that summer and was appalled at how fat I looked. My mom was very overweight most of my life, and she also had been doing diets off and on most of her adult life. She's actually lost a LOT of weight the past 5-8 years due to health issues, and there's a part of me that wonders if she sometimes chooses not to eat because she's enjoying finally being skinny. (I mean, it's also something she can control in her life, while a lot of her health issues are somewhat beyond her control and pretty frustrating.)
Anyway, I often lament how cyclical these things are. My mom was a teenager during the Twiggy era; I was a teenager during the heroin chic era; and my daughter is heading into teenage-hood in this Ozempic era. It's so frustrating to constantly be told that we are never thin enough, and it's heartbreaking to hear my daughter crying to me the very same things I said to my mom about how much she hates her body for being bigger than the other girls at her school. We have the body type that both gains weight easily and gains it mostly in the mid-section, so it takes WORK to keep it off. I'm so jealous of people who don't have to constantly think about food in order just to stay their current weight.
Anyway, my counselor recommend the book _Fat Is a Feminist Issue_ to me, and I was looking forward to reading it. Unfortunately, though I'm sure it was a revolutionary book at its writing in the 1970s, I would not say that it fits today's body positivity movement. The first few chapters that I could make it through very much had the vibe of "Let me explain how becoming fat is your response to the patriarchy, and now that you know that, you can finally become thin!" It wasn't really the vibe I was looking for, so I didn't end up finishing.
I'm trying hard to focus on making my body work for me - making sure my bloodwork is in the right levels and that I will be able to continue to move and do the things I enjoy as I get older. I also want to make sure I'm here for my daughter as long as I can be. I still struggle with hating myself, but I want to love myself. I suppose that's really the first step.
@Kristi S It is a lot to navigate, especially when it comes to parenting daughters. I often wonder what sorts off issues I would have passed along to a daughter if I’d had one. I’ve probably passed plenty of issues along to my son too because we are all so steeped in the messaging, to the point where certain judgments come out before we even think about them or whether they’re valid or true (!). I just keep saying we need to DISRUPT THE MESSAGING, which is really fucking hard when it’s everywhere. I think even being aware of it is a good place to start, though… xx
It's a very well-written piece Alexa, and I could really feel it. The messages that shape us come from so many places, and we often just seem to reinforce them and pass them on. We can start by being kinder to ourselves (as you said, radical self-acceptance), as well as kinder to others.
A situation just came to mind where a friend of mine organised a luncheon at a restaurant on International Women's Day. It was all slim, beautifully dressed women. Some other women arrived for a different event, and let's just say they didn't fit the mould of 'her people'. She made some nasty comments about them. I had to call her out on it and remind her that International Women's Day is a celebration of all women. They are beautiful just as they are. Be kind.
@Jody Delichte LOVE that you called out the nasty comments in such a constructive way -- by pointing out the reasons you were there in the first place. Love, love, love! xx
Earlier in my life, I may not have done it because I would have been afraid to upset someone or that they wouldn't like me anymore, invite me again, etc. But fortunately, I got to a place in my life where saying what needed to be said was more important than those things. x
I felt every word of this. It’s embarrassing to think what I could have done with all of the time I have wasted over the years thinking about my body, planning meals, feeling guilty for what I ate the day before, restricting, critiquing. The endless vicious cycle of self hatred. Even at 53, instead of being grateful for this body that has born and raised two children and carried me this far in life, I still find myself slipping into those same patterns. The visual of the urn holding your mother’s ashes hit especially hard. Will any container ever be small enough? Thank you for this incredibly raw and honest essay, Alexa. And here’s to fighting the good fight and living larger and bolder!
Aw, thanks @Laurie. And I hope nobody comes away from this feeling shame or embarrassment ... the machine is massive and resisting it is damn-near impossible. In the words of Taylor Swift, "this is me trying."
Did I know that you were a Swiftie? Please add that to the growing list of things we have in common! I can’t imagine anyone walking away from this piece feeling anything but recognition. I don’t know one woman who hasn’t struggled with some version of this. It’s maddening but true. And I think that hope lives in talking about it. Recognizing it when it rears its head and learning to say “enough” - for ourselves, for each other and for the next generation of women. XO
Every word of this is so relatable. Down to the mother who died of metastatic breast cancer and the work for women’s magazines. I’m finding the age of Ozempic so triggering of all that 90s shit. And I’m shocked by how happily friends who were not overweight are embracing it cosmetically.
This has been on my mind so much lately as I have been on a weight loss journey. One that was medically necessary. I had to deconstruct so much of my mother’s messaging throughout it all! Although, I will admit that given my strained relationship with her, it does please me to know that it is burning her up inside that I’m finally smaller than her, I hate that I am even aware that it was always a competition. My instinct, at least with her, is to want to flip her the bird and rub her nose in it. Not exactly healthy. Probably the biggest realization I had was that she convinced me that my favorite cake was Angel food cake! I’ve had that shit for my birthday for years, not because it was my favorite but because it was lower in calorie. The irony is that on my journey to better health I’ve finally started getting a big ass chocolate cake for my birthday. Because fuck her! (Thanks for listening to my therapy session, now go eat some cake)
Mother-daughter competition is such a strange and twisted part of it all (which I didn't even entirely address), isn't it? And omg...angel vs. devil's food cake. Gee, tough call and see you in hell :)
Wow, thank you. So much of this is me and my mom, who I love dearly but who certainly passed all her disordered thoughts onto me. I reread the last lines about your sweet mom several times. I’ve cared for so many women at the end of their lives who are still fretting about and apologizing for their bodies and I imagine that it absolutely was painful for your mom to be trapped in her body at her end as well (which makes me sad, but also completely resonates with me- I can imagine feeling the exact same way). I do love her very sleek carrying container! Thank you so much for sharing. I’m really enjoying your writing (and Flowers from the Attic- now I want to reread them all again!!!)
Thank YOU, Dr. Hoffman, for reading and sharing your own experiences around this. I hope it's clear that I have compassion for everything my mom experienced -- and everything we, especially women and daughters, continue to experience. It's not easy to question such a pervasive cultural narrative, but I'm trying...!
Gah. Right in the feels. I probably have a stack of Shape magazines in basement for my 1994 “New Year, New You!” scrap book 🤢 Excuse me while I burn them all 🔥
Middlescence! Can’t wait to read more from you. (And also schedule a time for a Shape mag funeral pyre ceremony…?)
Alexa, you made my week! When I read your work, I felt like I was meeting my middle school BFF. I still can’t walk through the grocery freezer aisle without accidentally looking for a Slimfast freezer dinner. And you were doing my dream job! I think that’s why I love Substack. It’s my magazine dream come to life. But even better, because I get to connect with people like you!
Passing the self-loathing down from one generation to the next.' That line. I've been thinking about how much of what I believed about my own body wasn't even mine to begin with. This piece did real work.
I'm X-ennial, but I also started my first diet at 13. I asked my mom if we could go to Weight Watchers together the summer between 7th and 8th grades because I saw a picture of myself that summer and was appalled at how fat I looked. My mom was very overweight most of my life, and she also had been doing diets off and on most of her adult life. She's actually lost a LOT of weight the past 5-8 years due to health issues, and there's a part of me that wonders if she sometimes chooses not to eat because she's enjoying finally being skinny. (I mean, it's also something she can control in her life, while a lot of her health issues are somewhat beyond her control and pretty frustrating.)
Anyway, I often lament how cyclical these things are. My mom was a teenager during the Twiggy era; I was a teenager during the heroin chic era; and my daughter is heading into teenage-hood in this Ozempic era. It's so frustrating to constantly be told that we are never thin enough, and it's heartbreaking to hear my daughter crying to me the very same things I said to my mom about how much she hates her body for being bigger than the other girls at her school. We have the body type that both gains weight easily and gains it mostly in the mid-section, so it takes WORK to keep it off. I'm so jealous of people who don't have to constantly think about food in order just to stay their current weight.
Anyway, my counselor recommend the book _Fat Is a Feminist Issue_ to me, and I was looking forward to reading it. Unfortunately, though I'm sure it was a revolutionary book at its writing in the 1970s, I would not say that it fits today's body positivity movement. The first few chapters that I could make it through very much had the vibe of "Let me explain how becoming fat is your response to the patriarchy, and now that you know that, you can finally become thin!" It wasn't really the vibe I was looking for, so I didn't end up finishing.
I'm trying hard to focus on making my body work for me - making sure my bloodwork is in the right levels and that I will be able to continue to move and do the things I enjoy as I get older. I also want to make sure I'm here for my daughter as long as I can be. I still struggle with hating myself, but I want to love myself. I suppose that's really the first step.
@Kristi S It is a lot to navigate, especially when it comes to parenting daughters. I often wonder what sorts off issues I would have passed along to a daughter if I’d had one. I’ve probably passed plenty of issues along to my son too because we are all so steeped in the messaging, to the point where certain judgments come out before we even think about them or whether they’re valid or true (!). I just keep saying we need to DISRUPT THE MESSAGING, which is really fucking hard when it’s everywhere. I think even being aware of it is a good place to start, though… xx
Girl, this one hits. Glad we are connected. Feel this in the bones.
So glad! Can’t wait for your book!
thank u!
God, I remember Shaklee! A friend's mom was a rep for Shaklee.
So many MLM companies in the mix, making it that much more sinister...
It's a very well-written piece Alexa, and I could really feel it. The messages that shape us come from so many places, and we often just seem to reinforce them and pass them on. We can start by being kinder to ourselves (as you said, radical self-acceptance), as well as kinder to others.
A situation just came to mind where a friend of mine organised a luncheon at a restaurant on International Women's Day. It was all slim, beautifully dressed women. Some other women arrived for a different event, and let's just say they didn't fit the mould of 'her people'. She made some nasty comments about them. I had to call her out on it and remind her that International Women's Day is a celebration of all women. They are beautiful just as they are. Be kind.
@Jody Delichte LOVE that you called out the nasty comments in such a constructive way -- by pointing out the reasons you were there in the first place. Love, love, love! xx
Earlier in my life, I may not have done it because I would have been afraid to upset someone or that they wouldn't like me anymore, invite me again, etc. But fortunately, I got to a place in my life where saying what needed to be said was more important than those things. x
Solidarity, sister!
👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻 YES
I felt every word of this. It’s embarrassing to think what I could have done with all of the time I have wasted over the years thinking about my body, planning meals, feeling guilty for what I ate the day before, restricting, critiquing. The endless vicious cycle of self hatred. Even at 53, instead of being grateful for this body that has born and raised two children and carried me this far in life, I still find myself slipping into those same patterns. The visual of the urn holding your mother’s ashes hit especially hard. Will any container ever be small enough? Thank you for this incredibly raw and honest essay, Alexa. And here’s to fighting the good fight and living larger and bolder!
Aw, thanks @Laurie. And I hope nobody comes away from this feeling shame or embarrassment ... the machine is massive and resisting it is damn-near impossible. In the words of Taylor Swift, "this is me trying."
Did I know that you were a Swiftie? Please add that to the growing list of things we have in common! I can’t imagine anyone walking away from this piece feeling anything but recognition. I don’t know one woman who hasn’t struggled with some version of this. It’s maddening but true. And I think that hope lives in talking about it. Recognizing it when it rears its head and learning to say “enough” - for ourselves, for each other and for the next generation of women. XO
YES! As with any problem, we first have to recognize and admit there is one...!
Every word of this is so relatable. Down to the mother who died of metastatic breast cancer and the work for women’s magazines. I’m finding the age of Ozempic so triggering of all that 90s shit. And I’m shocked by how happily friends who were not overweight are embracing it cosmetically.
Me too. Love your work.
We have so much to discuss, @Sasha! So glad to have found each other...
This has been on my mind so much lately as I have been on a weight loss journey. One that was medically necessary. I had to deconstruct so much of my mother’s messaging throughout it all! Although, I will admit that given my strained relationship with her, it does please me to know that it is burning her up inside that I’m finally smaller than her, I hate that I am even aware that it was always a competition. My instinct, at least with her, is to want to flip her the bird and rub her nose in it. Not exactly healthy. Probably the biggest realization I had was that she convinced me that my favorite cake was Angel food cake! I’ve had that shit for my birthday for years, not because it was my favorite but because it was lower in calorie. The irony is that on my journey to better health I’ve finally started getting a big ass chocolate cake for my birthday. Because fuck her! (Thanks for listening to my therapy session, now go eat some cake)
Mother-daughter competition is such a strange and twisted part of it all (which I didn't even entirely address), isn't it? And omg...angel vs. devil's food cake. Gee, tough call and see you in hell :)
Wow, thank you. So much of this is me and my mom, who I love dearly but who certainly passed all her disordered thoughts onto me. I reread the last lines about your sweet mom several times. I’ve cared for so many women at the end of their lives who are still fretting about and apologizing for their bodies and I imagine that it absolutely was painful for your mom to be trapped in her body at her end as well (which makes me sad, but also completely resonates with me- I can imagine feeling the exact same way). I do love her very sleek carrying container! Thank you so much for sharing. I’m really enjoying your writing (and Flowers from the Attic- now I want to reread them all again!!!)
Thank YOU, Dr. Hoffman, for reading and sharing your own experiences around this. I hope it's clear that I have compassion for everything my mom experienced -- and everything we, especially women and daughters, continue to experience. It's not easy to question such a pervasive cultural narrative, but I'm trying...!
100 percent. I sensed the same complicated love that I have!