There is a backstory here that influenced my decision to post this. That story, as important as it is, is not part of this story. - Ed.
I'm finding an increase, most notably on my Facebook news feed, of links to posts and articles and blogs by individuals (mostly women) taking a stand against body shaming. As you can guess, these women are/were overweight. There's been a revolution at hand: outcry toward a fashion industry that for years set a body standard to which the world should conform; condemnation about models having their appearance digitally altered to perpetuate that conformity; getting public acceptance for having your hips wider than your shoulders; redefining what beauty is.
The authors by and large talk about the personal pressures they faced growing up, struggles they had to overcome in a world obsessed with diets and fitness and achieving the perfect size to weight ratio to obtain a socially acceptable body form. These blogs and such are part of their process of peeling off those uncomfortable layers. Some of these people peeled off enough layers to expose themselves photographically as part of that process. I read these articles for perspective, for my own personal enlightenment. I know people who struggle, have struggled, or fear eventually struggling again with weight issues. The articles don't change how I care about these people. They don't spur me into an intervention. They help me understand and allow me to contribute where I can if I'm needed.
But every now and then I read an article that comes across with what I see as an inconsistent message. One such article was written by a woman named Emily Nolan. You can read her post and see her photos here (Ed. note: her photos are nude, but not pornographic).
Now, to be fair, this isn't the only article of its kind. I'm not picking on Emily. I only use her article as an example because reading it and looking at her photos - taken as part of a professional photo shoot for a book - made me start to think (and thinking is the Devil's tool). I wouldn't describe what she presented as insincere, but she did make a point of promoting the publishing of her photographs as what she called "courage to share the truth." And I sort of took exception to that.
First, I must commend Emily for putting herself out there, in both pictures and print. She has a mission to be inspirational to others who have weight problems and eating disorders. Her message promotes seeking comfort and confidence in who you are, as you are. It's a message that comes in contrast to the combat mentality I've encountered directed toward social shaming of body sizes coming from all points. Her story wasn't awe inspiring. I read it as a therapeutic vehicle for her, a way for her to reinforce in herself what she's accomplished, and to help her share these experiences in order to help others. It's a way for her to be, as she puts it, a "catalyst for positive change."
But, as noted, I took exception. To me, the pictures didn't match the tone of the words.
Emily said that doing the photo shoot wasn't easy and made her feel vulnerable. She said the decision to publish the photos was a difficult one. But I questioned how difficult. She's a model. Her career is based on a relationship between being in front of a camera, having confidence in the photographer making her look good, and a safety net of her appearance being enhanced by lighting, hair styling and make-up. Emily isn't, say, a 40-year-old, overweight mother of three whose cosmetic splurge comes once or twice a year with an Ulta gift card. She isn't a woman whose photographs are, with few exceptions, a secretly embarrassing collection of cropped, waist-up shots downloaded from someone's iPhone. Emily also runs self-confidence workshops that tour the world. With that, I will make the assumption that a person in her current incarnation doesn't have too far to go to overcome the obstacle of putting herself in front of a camera or the masses.
Even dismissing critics who without substantiation called her out for her pictures being Photoshopped or air brushed (she denies this), there is a noticeable quality to the photos that I couldn't ignore. I'm sorry, but a person can't go through the processes of preparing for a photo shoot with professional support in a controlled environment and present it as what they actually look like. Take a picture without make-up in shorts and a t-shirt in natural light. Take a post-exercise picture wearing gym clothes with your sweaty hair tied back. Post a picture at any point in the day that you believe you would be unprepared to face public scrutiny. THAT is the courage to share the truth.
THIS is the courage to share the truth...
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Now when you're all done having fun with this, go
get your camera. Strip down (but be modest). Take your
picture. Look at it. Not difficult for you yet? Then put
it up for public viewing and see how difficult clicking the
"send" button is. Then click the "send" button and see
how difficult it is not having second thoughts, or
the ability to take it back.
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I am insecure about my body. Less so now than I was fifteen or twenty years ago, and without a doubt less than I was before this blog post. There are parts of me that I feel are best exposed in a darkened room, if not hidden entirely by a bass guitar. While some people will comment that I look good or that I'm in decent shape, it doesn't change how I feel about who I am. Granted, I am not fat, but I am overweight by medical standards. My weight and body shape change with the seasons. I have a ten pound tolerance for myself, and as I write this I'm at the upper limit. I don't take the prep time my wife does, but I always check myself before I go out. It's not that I care so much what other people think of me (other than my wife), it's that I care how I think of me.
I would never have thought I'd put myself out in the public arena exposed like I am here. This is me daring to "share the truth," as Emily Nolan puts it. This is my breakthrough. I will agree with her that making the decision to do this was not easy. But it would hardly be fair of me to expose my criticism of her without exposing criticism of myself. So here I am, exposed. No lights. No photographer. I combed my own hair. It is real. And I will expect that the understanding of my friends and family - and their laughter - will be real, just as they expect that of me towards them.
We all have personal insecurities, obstacles or traumas to overcome - weight, big ears, small breasts, any number of fears. If you've found a way to move forward and are going to promote a personal message designed to be a catalyst for others to help change or become more accepting of themselves (or educate others), then be true to the message. If your message is about being comfortable and accepting of being in your own skin, as in this instance, be in your own skin without replacing that layer of clothes with layers of light and make-up.
To present ourselves as being real, part of that presentation is to step away from the photo shoots we tend to hide behind and just be real.
