After reading a similar blog post about bodies changing after sports, I wanted to share my personal experience. My whole life I have been involved in many sports. I started club soccer when I was 6 and played up until high school, while also playing a variety of sports alongside soccer. Then in high school I played a sport in the fall, winter, and spring alongside club volleyball outside of school. I was always seen as the “skinny” kid because I was constantly active. The biggest change for me was when Covid-19 hit and put a pause on all sports. Being left stationary at home with no sports was a huge change for me. I saw a huge change in my body, going from this “skinny” girl to a girl who was not as skinny. This created a huge hate in my body. I would try to skip meals and look up quick weight loss meals. I was one of the many people who tried doing Chloe Ting workouts from YouTube during Covid. If hating the way my body looked was not already detrimental to my mental health, when we were finally allowed back to sports, that’s when I realized there was more about me, I hated. Stepping back on the volleyball court for the first time and realizing I was not the same player was hard to come to terms with. For a while I blamed it on being “rusty” and “not in season”, but as time went on, I realized I would never play the same. There are still days that I get really self-conscious about my body but then I realize, I can’t have the body I had at 14 because I am maturing, and my body has these natural changes. Body image is a detrimental thing that a lot of people deal with, and everyone’s experience with it is different. 

In class we talked about if being pregnant was a disability. I think when it comes to what a disability is I do not fit pregnancy under this category. I feel like pregnancy can present some limitations but does not disable you. The woman’s body is created so strongly that it gives us amazing abilities, like being able to grow a human in us. With any other thing in life, everyone experiences things differently, pregnancy is no different. I do understand that each pregnancy is different, and each experience is unique. I feel like periods and the menstrual cycle is in this same argument if it is seen as a disability. I feel the same way about the menstrual cycle as I do with pregnancy, that it poses limitations but does not disable you. Is every woman who gets a menstrual cycle disabled, even though it is experienced differently in every female? In my opinion the idea pregnancy is not a disability, but it can pose limitations. I feel like there are experiences that shape how you view this topic.  

To also relate this post into talking about reproductive bodies and pregnancy, I want to shift the attention to who is “in charge” during pregnancy. In history, we see woman not being “in control” because men overruled us, even when it came to our own bodies, as we sometimes did not have a say in what happened to our bodies. Today, as women have more rights, I have no clue why men feel like they have a say in our bodies. Women are the ones created to carry and grow a baby in us, which is an experience only women go through directly. With that being said only women should be seen as “in charge” during a pregnancy. 

What makes something a disability? Can mental illness be a disability? If your disability is being treated, and doesn’t currently disable you, are you still disabled? Are you still disabled even when your disability goes from being primarily visible, to primarily invisible? If you were in Special Education as a kid, but have made Dean’s List the last 3 semesters, are you still able to call yourself disabled? Do you say you are disabled? Do you say you were disabled? Do you count your issues as a disability at all? Is that undermining the plights of actually disabled people? 

Last year I was in a math class, and two girls sitting next to me got to talking about the fact they were both people who grew up disabled with chronic illness conditions. I couldn’t help but overhear them, and as they talked I realized I related to everything they said. From not being believed by doctors, to getting denied accommodations in school, to missing out on formative experiences due to disability and trying treatment after treatment with little to no results. But as much as I wanted to join in and say “me too” I couldn’t. I didn’t know how they would respond. 

As someone with severe anxiety and panic attacks, I’ve always felt like I straddle the line between mental illness and disability. People don’t like to consider mental illness a disability. Even in writing this anonymously, part of me is scared that I will get criticized for calling it that at all. I feel this need to go out of my way to justify that my experiences were bad enough to get the label of disability, to put my heart and trauma out on the table so that no one thinks I am trying to claim a label that doesn’t apply to me. But that’s exactly the problem.

I don’t want to have to explain the fact that I was a completely non-functional child, a total mess. It’s no one’s business that I had daily severe panic attacks that would last for hours, complete with kicking, screaming, and endless sobbing. It isn’t fun to recount the fact that multiple therapists told my parents that my issues were too severe for them to treat. I don’t want to have to explain the years I spent in Special Education classes in order to participate in a conversation about disability.

I am not the gatekeeper of disability. I don’t know what counts and what doesn’t. But in my opinion, while not all mental illnesses are disabling, some of them are, and I see no reason for that to be any less valid than any other kind of disability. Maybe there is no one firm guide to disability, maybe it’s more fluid and complicated than that binary allows.

In a world where appearance is very important, a lot of us have body image concerns that impact our daily lives and mental well-being. The reflection staring back at me in the mirror can make me feel powerful or powerless, influencing how I perceive myself. For me, my body image plays a big role in my day-to-day life. It affects everything from the outfits I choose to wear to how comfortable I feel in public spaces. I’ve had moments when I’ve stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing every curve and flaw, which, in turn, altered my perception of my body. But I’m not alone in this struggle. Many women in society deal with similar feelings, haunted by an idealized image of beauty shown by the media. It’s a constant battle, one that has many effects on my mental health. Choosing an outfit can be a hard when you’re conscious of your body image. I often find myself hesitating to wear certain clothes, fearing they would draw attention to the areas I’m most self-conscious about. It’s something I go through daily, an internal dialogue of self-doubt that many can relate to. Walking out in public can also make me feel self-concious about my body. Thinking about the fact that others perceive my body and can form their own opinions about it. It’s as if I’m constantly under a spotlight, and the pressure to look like unrealistic standards can be overwhelming. The mirror itself can make me feel good or bad about myself. It’s easy to become fixated on certain flaws, inadvertently distorting my self-image. My body image concerns can sometimes have a negative effect on my mental health. It can lead to feelings of depression and anxiety. The comparison to unrealistic beauty standards takes a toll on my self-worth. Supportive communities and professional help can offer guidance. Learning to love and accept myself as I am is a lifelong process, but it’s worth it. I am slowly working towards loving myself for who I am and being okay with all of the features I was born with. 

When I was little, I was always complimented on how “skinny” I was. I played sports at that time (club lacrosse and soccer), and my mother had full control over everything that I ate. My parents put me in sports as a child and I grew up playing them. I stayed the same “skinny” physique until around Sophmore year of high school. I decided to stop playing club lacrosse for mental health reasons, and I was told by the track team at my high school that I was not fast enough anymore. Then, for the first time in my entire life, I had to figure out how to keep myself healthy on my own when it came to working out and moving my body. I stopped for a while, I wanted a break from it, but I started to hate the way my body looked. I started to stalk models and other girls that society deemed beautiful and would shame myself because I did not look like them. My parents would tell me often to go to the gym because it would be good for me, but at this point I was in a depression. I slowly hated who I had become and who I looked like, and this continued for years and years. During this time in high school, I stopped eating for periods of time. Never having a stable healthy relationship with food, I either restricted or binged and always felt guilty no matter what I ate. I started to gain weight and my family started to make comments on what I was eating. I would get shamed for eating chocolate or would be told to loose weight so I could fit back into my school uniform. Then I began to skip meals and my relationship with food got worse from there. I was constantly on my phone wishing I was someone else and wishing I had a different body. This progressed for years, until last year of college. I met a group of people that made me feel like I did not have to be perfect, that I could be myself around and changed the way I view my body. I still struggle with this a decent amount but I am extremely grateful to have people in my life that always remind me that I do not need to change a single thing about my body and that social media is not always healthy.

I was five years old when my mother smiled at me and told me that I was losing weight. She expressed her excitement about this to me and told me that I should keep doing whatever I was doing that made me look smaller. At the time, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing but I wanted to do exactly what she told me. Unfortunately, I have never been able to exist outside of my weight since then. 

There has never been a time where I felt that I was at an adequate weight. I was constantly reminded by family how big I was and still am. Adding to this, family and family friends also expressed how abnormal I was in comparison to the rest of my family seeing as I was the only overweight child my parents had. I was continually told that I needed to lose weight because it’s not good for me to be overweight as a girl. My weight also affected the family image as I was the only one with a visible flaw in my appearance. 

As I look back at old photos of myself, I realize that I actually wasn’t overweight in high school. I just had a bigger build in comparison to other girls my age because of the sports I played in combination with my genetics. I wasn’t overweight, I just wasn’t skinny. My perception of my entire being was completely skewed during that time.

I associated my weight with everything. I thought about every step I took and wondered if it sounded heavy. I was aware of my breathing, in hopes that it didn’t sound too loud as I didn’t want to sound like I was panting. I would suck my stomach in on days where I felt like I looked bloated or bigger because I didn’t want anyone to think that I had gained any more weight. I would starve myself so that I could feel and appear lighter. I would purposely wear oversized clothing to give the illusion of a small body hidden under clothing. I would make sure to keep my opinions to myself to avoid being verbally attacked in case someone may have been offended why what I said. 

I often felt physically weighed down by my body because of the amount of weight I believe I carried. Learning that I wasn’t overweight in high school, often makes me reflect on the different perceptions, feelings, and experiences I have had of my body. I often wonder if the feeling of “heaviness” I often felt was something that was entirely in my head. I thought to myself that people didn’t like me or find me attractive because I was too big and thus, undesirable to be around. I now wonder if the negative perceptions people had of me even had anything to do with my weight at all as a teenager. I wonder if the size small that I so desperately wanted to fit into was ever a size that was and would ever appropriate for my body then and now.

I will specifically be speaking about voluntary cosmetic plastic surgery. Think nose jobs, botox, BBLs, lip filler and tummy tucks. I am not touching on reconstructive plastic surgery or any procedure that is for a medical reason.

What causes someone to desire a certain cosmetic procedure? For most cases, the short answer is the unrealistic beauty standard and insecurities. Growing up as a woman you are constantly and subconsciously soaking in these presented beauty standards like a sponge. The picture that is painted shows that the most perfect women are fit, have perky boobs and butt, an hourglass shaped body, clear skin, a complexion that glows, full lips, bright eyes, perfectly symmetrical eyebrows, straight teeth that are pearly white….. the list truly could go on forever. As we all know, this creates insecurities in return. You begin to grow up as your own biggest critic, freaking out before school because your hair won’t lay right, and crying in the dressing room when you’re shopping for new clothes. It is one thing to feel this way when you’re young. It is another thing to grow up and have these thoughts and realize, your insecurity may be something you can actually change for good, if you have the money.

Plastic surgery has become much more common in the last 20 years. It used to be something that was exclusive to the rich and famous. Now, you might know someone personally, maybe yourself, who has gotten some kind of procedure. For me, I know multiple people in my life. I know someone with lip filler and a nose job. I know someone who had their ears surgically pinned back. I know someone who has gotten a full body transformation including a tummy tuck, brazilian butt lift, fake boobs, botox, cheek filler, and more. I would say that most people getting some kind of plastic surgery done are doing it to rid some kind of insecurity, and I don’t blame them. Why wouldn’t you take the chance to finally get rid of that one thing that bothered you so much if you could? You won’t have to worry about it anymore, and you can finally feel more confidence when it’s gone. I absolutely believe that you can do whatever you want with your body, and you should. My confusion where plastic surgery stands morally comes in here. If you partake in plastic surgery in order to fix your insecurity and become a closer fit into the beauty standard, aren’t you now contributing to said standard?

There is a mold that women today feel that they need to fit. There is a very small number of people born naturally to fit these guidelines. Everyone today is trying to fit this similar look, and by conforming to these guidelines in the form of getting plastic surgery, aren’t you just creating a wider range of people who fit this standard? Therefore, contributing to this unrealistic beauty standard, that is usually unreachable without some kind of plastic surgery. It kind of contradicts the saying “you are beautiful just the way you are” or “everyone is beautiful in their own way” that most people have heard at some point in their life. With an increasing amount of people getting plastic surgery to fix their insecurities, there becomes less variety of people and how they look. I think one of the most amazing things about humans is that not everyone looks the same, but there has been a slow and steady increase in people who are trying to look similar. At least in the United States of America, which is the only place I can really speak on because it’s the only place I’ve lived. 

So, my mind is kind of back and forth trying to decide where plastic surgery stands morally in the sense of beauty standards. Everyone has the right to their own body, and you should always do what makes you happy. No one should tell you what you can and cannot do with yourself. Then again, is partaking in cosmetic procedures a further contribution to the  unreachable beauty standard? I’m not sure where I stand on this topic, but it’s interesting to talk about.

I feel that it’s important to mention that I am in no way judging anyone for choosing to receive some sort of cosmetic plastic surgery. I am simply pondering where the concept stands morally in the sense of beauty standards. Please do what makes you happy.