Want to feel more comfortable in your body? Social media can actually help sometimes

by Staci Backauskas

Illustration by Holly Farndell. Our nonprofit generates funding in multiple ways, including through affiliate linking. When you purchase something through an affiliate link on this site, the price will be the same for you as always, but we may receive a small percentage of the cost.


 

When I fell in love with a lime green skort at Sears in 1971, my grandmother refused to buy it because I was “too chubby to wear it.” It was the beginning of a love-hate relationship with fashion, which was only an extension of how I felt about my body. At eight, I already believed that being in a larger body was a reason to be ashamed. 

Fashion contributed to that belief because it was virtually impossible to find bigger clothes then, save for the occasional pair of “queen size” pants. Wearing what my mother made me from Simplicity patterns never made me feel as if I fit in, no matter how much love she infused into each seam. The way I dressed cast me as an outsider.

A study published by the American Psychological Association in 2014 showed that there is a connection between body shame and depression for young adults. This explains why I never believed I had the right to take up space and often spent time alone.  

Even into adulthood, nice clothes were simply those that fit. They were never a reflection of my personality or an experiment in mixing colors or patterns. Although I wanted to feel stylish, to wear colorful skirts and blouses, I dressed to hide my body — or at least make it less noticeable by wearing mostly black clothes in understated looks that made me less susceptible to taunts. 

When I saw a plus-size fashion content creator do a clothing haul on YouTube a few years ago, it catapulted me into an alternate reality. She pranced on camera in brightly printed shirts, tight dresses, and plaid pants without an elastic waistband. Although she was my size, and I admired her gumption, I couldn’t see myself wearing clothes like that.

Becky Alvarez, a therapist who works with self-identified fat clients, explains that one of the factors contributing to my reaction is the morality assigned to being in a bigger body. “If you can't get or stay skinny, it's because you're ‘lazy’ and you make ‘bad’ choices. You have no impulse control. And I just don't think that's true.”

After that first video, I still felt like a voyeur. But over time, things changed. I followed this creator on Instagram and TikTok named Anna O’Brien (@glitterandlazers). I joined her Facebook group where women in bigger bodies shared their outfits of the day. Then the algorithms did their thing and recommended other similar creators. 

Holly Farndell

Within months, I became part of a community composed of people who resembled me. Many lived their lives authentically regardless of their physical appearance and were open about their struggles. It helped me own the desire I’d had forever: to be included as a fashionista.

“The benefit of having a community is you realize that you're not the only person who feels this way,” Alvarez says. “Some of the beauty in social media is that you can see other people and hear their stories. It helps break up that shame.” In fact, social media can be a vital piece in building community, which the National Alliance on Mental Illness says is “critical for us to thrive.” 

A new paper published this year by Dr. Paula Stehr, a researcher at The Ludwig Maximilian University of Munich, found that online social support can be positively associated with people’s well-being by satisfying basic psychological needs, one of which is connection. 

Now I have the confidence to wear patterns, colors other than black, and even shirts that don’t cover my belly. I focus on how clothes make me feel rather than how others will judge me for wearing them. The connection and community I found through social media helped dissolve the shame and thoughts about what I “should” wear so I can live more as who I really am.

Holly Farndell


Journaling prompts

Sit quietly with your body. Where are you the most uncomfortable — belly, thighs, arms? Write a letter to that body part. Be honest about your feelings. No one’s judging (except you maybe, and you’re here to work on leaning into harsh thoughts with curiosity and care instead of judgment and shame).

Identify one step you can take right now to feel better about that body part. Give yourself a timeframe in which to do it.

Think about someone you saw on social media wearing an outfit you thought was cute. How did you feel about how they looked in it? 

Imagine yourself wearing that same outfit. How do you feel about how you look in it?

Write about a time when you were criticized for your body. Where does that voice show up in your life today? (Perhaps it comes up most when you try on clothes, the first time you wear a new outfit, going to a cocktail party, meeting someone for the first time — find and explore your edges here). What are some kind words you can say to yourself when you hear those thoughts?

If body shape and size were not issues, write about the clothes you’d wear. How do they make you feel? How would you express yourself through fashion?

How do you deprive yourself of feeling good in what you wear? This could be color, material, or style and even the self-criticism that accompanies the choice. 

What is one piece of clothing you want to rock, but tell yourself you shouldn’t wear? Explore that story — what do you tell yourself? Who’s really saying those things? What will happen if you wear it?

 
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