So we all saw the viral video of Goop’s very own Gwyneth Paltrow discussing her wellness routine, yes? Glad we are all up to speed.
There are so many things to say about this and most of them have been said. For me, that’s part of the problem. Lots of well-meaning people use these opportunities, when celebrities say something ridiculous about how they treat their body, as a way of justifying their looks via their unhealthy habits. Online becomes swarmed with reminders that they're only thin because they're starving.
The Gwyneth chat coincided with similar conversations around the Oscars, when people were commenting that yes, everyone looks thin but please remember this is down to Ozempic, not reality.
You can see why this might be helpful - most people do the cost-benefit equation and decide they would rather eat nice food and not drop thousands on rectal ozone therapy. Many even argue that it’s better to be honest about what you do to your body, to prove it’s unachievable, so that laymen don’t feel bad when we never get there.
But for so many people struggling with disordered eating or eating disorders, being told the way to thinness is the enough - regardless of how dangerous or healthy that journey sounds. By explaining celebrities' bodies via these intense 'wellness' regimes, we are giving a blueprint to people who are struggling. Even when we are warning people away from the diet, exercise or needle, we are really saying, here is exactly how she looks like she does, go give it a go.
An Oxford University study published yesterday proved this, as researchers found that viewing self-harm material online made people more likely to self-harm themselves. As well as fuelling ‘competitiveness’, it normalised behaviour rather than shocked people to restrain or seek support. There is virtually no protective outcome to showing the dangerous things people do to their bodies in this way, found the researchers.
That is why not talking about bodies can sometimes be a good thing. Ideally, that would start at the other end, with the interviewer not asking either. The media is obsessed with reporting on how celebrities train and eat or, in the case of Gwyneth, stay ‘well’. But in a world where body-related activities are synonymous with what we look like - despite the science showing that action and aesthetics aren’t related - there is virtually no way of asking a woman how they treat their body without there being undertones of how do you look like that?
It’s why, quite a while ago now, I consciously made a decision to simply not comment on what people around me look like. It doesn’t matter if I know the friend is proud of how their body looks or ashamed of its current presentation, I will not mention the size, shape or appearance of their body.
That is ironic, given I write a newsletter about bodies, so let me explain. I find the things our bodies do and feel more and more fascinating, which is why I love talking about them, but discussing the way they look feels more and more of a pointless and painful conversation.
It is hard though. It requires shutting off the reflex to comment first on how people look and then how they are. Obviously, it means not joining in their pride when they feel good about their body, but the most difficult is not calling out when they feel bad.
This weekend, when two friends were discussing the ways in which one of their bodies had changed, I didn’t comment. The conversation was loaded with binary language of starting and stopping, ‘bad’ and ‘good’. I squashed the instinct to challenge the way they were talking about their bodies, which I used to do repeatedly. I didn’t jump in to lecture them, tell them how they should treat their bodies or the best way to feel about it. This time, I let the conversation continue while I fiddled around unpacking my bag.
I hope that doesn’t sound like I was being avoidant or supporting their suffering. It’s more that if I tell them you are amazing just the way you are or even you can still be kind to your body even if you don’t love it I only add to the cycle that their body is their value and it is important.
Even the kindest of nudging towards less hatred can come across as shaming them, as Professor Heather Widdows, who specialises in the modification of bodies and the rising demands of beauty, said when I recently spoke to her about Botox: “Inducing shame and blame stops activism. It stops collective action, and it doesn't do anything to take the pressure off the body at all.”
It’s also that my own head space can not be a battle ground for fighting off diet culture in other people. It’s too exhausting to be running after the conversation, picking up the language that I feel doesn’t serve them. I won’t catch it. I’ll end up floundering and breathless. Instead, the silence feels like a more important proof of the fact that the way their thighs touch or arms bounce doesn’t matter.
We need this attitude online. We have to stop feeling the need to have strong opinions (lol that this is exactly how the algorithm works) about how other people treat their bodies. We do not need awareness about obvious diet culture practices! We need to not let Gwyneth’s video be made, not go viral, not share the directions to her body, because it doesn't help anyone except those ready to do that to themselves.
I hope you enjoyed this bonus edition of Gray’s Anatomy. I’m thinking of mixing up my posting schedule and I’d love to know how often you read newsletters, what you like seeing in your inbox and what might eventually tempt you to head behind a paywall (don’t worry, there will still be plenty of free content!).
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