Hopping Trains: I’m far away from my arrival destination, but I’m on the right set of tracks

On Wednesday afternoon I graduated from university. As with an awful lot of things, I found it very difficult to enjoy, partly because any kind of success I just see as par for the course and a push to do better next time, if I can get past thinking I should have done better in the first place, and partly because there was so much to get done in so little time that I felt very panicky and stressed throughout the whole day, and couldn’t stop thinking about all the things that might go wrong.

More than anything else, I was dreading having to get the official photographs of the day taken, because the thought of it sent me right back to experiences at school of photography day, of a chubby faced, thin lipped, pig nosed, short and lumpy girl-creature with round glasses, lank hair and bad skin, who looked about twice her actual size because of those godawful round-necked jumpers she had to wear that did nothing for her too-big boobs and hips when every other eleven-year-old still looked like a little princess.

I do think I might have an issue about actually seeing myself in photographs. Bar a very few exceptions, whenever I look at myself, most of the time all I can see are things I don’t like about myself, and how terrible I look compared to everyone else in the pictures. I genuinely see myself as looking very different between photographs and in the mirror. In the mirror, I actually like what I see, almost every part of myself I can find something good about. But in photographs, I honestly don’t recognise myself. I look like a different person, and a horrible, ugly person. It’s really strange, because it’s not as though I act the same way when I see myself in a mirror, or in day-to-day life – my internal self-image is pretty much fine – but in photographs I just have to glance at myself and I feel nauseas. I have to look away, because there is a physical ache in my stomach seeing myself.

So I went and got the photographs at graduation taken, and I checked myself in the mirror and thought I looked pretty good – my fringe was a little ugh because of the wind and the stupid ridiculous hat we had to wear – but otherwise I was pretty happy. I loved the dress I was wearing and the robes felt pretty cool too. I had practised my smile, wide and genuine but without creasing up my eyes, but then I looked at what the photographer had taken and I just didn’t recognise myself. In fact, I really couldn’t bear to look. I had to choose the one I liked best and I just hated all of them, and all I could think was that that photo I chose would be with me my whole life, and would be in my parents’ house, and my grandfather’s house, and that’s how I look to other people, and it’s just disgusting.

When I got home, I thought about it some more, and my first thought was how I could limit my eating, how I could cut out all of these different foods, how I could skip breakfast and lunch and get away with eating less at dinner, how maybe I could skip dinner and act like I was making my own, and then all of these other thoughts came into my head like how on earth will I ever be able to find a nice hairstyle that actually suits me, and how will my skin ever get better, and why is my face so fat, and why are my shoulders so broad and why do I feel like I take up so much space?

But then I just felt a little voice in my head, a strong, defiant, fierce, angry, patient and compassionate voice in my head, telling me that I am fine just the way I am, that I am so bored and tired and done with limiting myself and purging and disordered thinking about food. I reminded myself about how I had actually felt genuinely hungry for the first time in ages right after my graduation ceremony had finished, once all of the nerves and panic had gone, all I felt was hunger, and I finished a chicken katsu curry from Wagamamas and actually had a dessert (with my family! while eating out!) without feeling even slightly guilty about it!! I had a chocolate fudge cake and shared it with my brother, and I loved it and it was so gorgeous and I ordered it confidently and didn’t laugh anxiously or take an apologetic tone while ordering it, I just wanted it because I was hungry and I thought it sounded good.

So, all of these things still hit me really hard, and I wish terribly that they didn’t, but it seems as though I can deal with them better than I used to, and I’m hoping that will gradually keep getting better and easier in time, if I stick at it and don’t give up.

K.

Coping: Their Dream of You

I have been feeling a lot better about my body recently, having read a lot about self-esteem and self-worth based on inner peace and balance, and after following a whole bunch of body positivity blogs. Also, reading feminist articles and books specifically addressing the negative impact of the media, in particular fashion magazines and editorials with titles like ‘How to lose weight in…’, ‘Lose inches off your hips and…’, ‘You can be happy too if…’

I know that I need to cut out all of this toxic waste from my day to day life. So, I decided to check through a TV guide before each week, and plan what I will watch, limiting myself to programmes that do not buy into this damaging ideal of what a ‘real’ or ‘perfect’ woman is (if you’re interested, next week I’m only planning to watch 3 hours of television in all). I’ve also stopped reading fashion magazines – I stopped buying them a few months ago, but still read the ones my mum buys out of interest until recently. Firstly, we can all wear whatever we want, because whenever we see someone in the street who we think cruel or nasty comments about, it is an opportunity for us to re-evaluate what murky influences in our lives have made us turn against each other to try and make ourselves feel better somehow.

Secondly, if we do want some advice as to which cuts, colours and patterns of clothes will “suit us best” (by society’s standards, of course!) then we can access it for free in moments online. If we must remain in capitalist patriarchy, then we have a responsibility to spend the money we have wisely and with a strong political ethic. That way, the money you could spend on a couple of fashion magazines that will try to convince you you are not absolutely wonderful just the way you are, could instead be spent on a book celebrating what is awesome about yourself and the world around you! (Hadley Freeman’s Be Awesome is just one I would definitely recommend.)

But even though I have made these big steps, I was hit badly last night when my dad told me that I shouldn’t have jam on my toast in the mornings. Being told this was triggering for me, because I assumed that he meant that eating jam was making me fat, and that being fat was a bad thing, and that he respected and loved me less because he thought I was fat/was worried about me getting fat. These feelings all hit me in less than a second, wrapped up in nausea and panic. I managed to laugh it off, saying we all deserve small pleasures in life, but I had to think it through carefully before I went to bed and was able to get to sleep.

To do this, I referred to a quote I read in a Don Miguel Ruiz book (either The Four Agreements or The Voice of Knowledge, both of which are great reads). Don Miguel Ruiz writes about spirituality and neoshamanism, and it was after reading his books that I started delving into shamanism and the spirit journey, where I met my motherspirit, and which I return to whenever I am dealing with significant emotional stress – but that’s a topic for another day. The quote went something like this: “People never interact with you, they interact with their dream of you”. In essence, this means that all other people see in you is their impression of you, moulded by their own experiences, hang-ups and influences.

So, when my dad said to me that I shouldn’t eat jam on my toast, he didn’t mean to imply about fatness or anything like that, I think he meant that he was worried about my teeth, because he has always been proud of me never having any problems with my teeth when he has had so many, and that he was worried about my health, because I am healthy while he is on medication to deal with hereditary high blood pressure. My dad’s fears and experiences clouded his words, and though he could have simply said he was glad I had found something I enjoy eating for breakfast, or could have said nothing at all, I have to accept that my own hang-ups and insecurities caused me to assume he was making a jibe at me when, today, I know he would never do that.

Thinking things through in this way has really helped me stay calm in this situation, and avoid binging last night or not wanting to eat today. In case it will help, I’m going to jot down how I re-assessed my thinking in this situation.

• Triggering situation, feelings of intense anxiety and guilt
• Repeated the mantra “people only see their dream of you” until calmer
• Considered how triggering person’s experiences shaped their comments
• Remembered my own values of self-esteem and self-worth

If this article helped you, or if there is something you would like me to clarify or go into more detail on, just let me know.

K.

email: biafi@hotmail.co.uk