Karma is… Body Image Struggles

I do my best to navigate my body image struggles with love and grace. However, that’s easier said than done. Even when at my thinnest, I would look in the mirror and judge the girl in front of me for being fat, ugly or just not sexy enough.

Today, I can look in the mirror and more often than not feel proud of the woman I see. To do that, though, I’ve spent years untangling my body image struggles, and I still have more work to do.

In other words, I haven’t always been proud of my body. From a young age, I learned to scrutinize what I ate because my mom told me that one day I would get fat based off my food choices. I vividly remember sitting at our kitchen counter, enjoying my favorite snack—buttered rice with lots of salt and pepper—when my mom walked in and said,

“You know, you can’t eat like that forever and stay so skinny.”

Even then, I knew something was wrong with that statement.

But I heard it anyway, and it stuck with me.

Now, my mom didn’t mean any harm—although the outcome resulted in years of body image struggles for me. Food has always been a trigger for her, a battle I’ve watched her fight my entire life. A few years after my parents moved us from California to Idaho, she discovered a fad diet called PRISM. If I remember correctly, it was a Christian-based eating program that involved cutting out all sugar for a period of time, then slowly reintroducing healthy sugars.

My mom experienced momentary success with this program. At the time, I was about 16 and already obsessed with the idea that I looked too fat for boys to find me attractive. Since my mom hosted the PRISM meetings, I joined in easily at her invitation. Although I probably shared my mom’s binder, I diligently followed all the no-sugar rules. 

I remember struggling to abstain, but I did it! I even lost weight—not that I needed to. At the time, though, I believed I was fat, which likely led me to take these classes. Looking back, I find it irresponsible that my mom let me join her adult classes and participate because I felt pressured to lose weight.

On the other hand, I learned what it’s like to go without sugar and then reintroduce it. I still remember the sheer joy of eating fruit again—how its sweetness exploded with flavor because I wasn’t desensitized by processed sugars in ice cream and treats. In many ways, I learned a valuable lesson: healthy foods can taste absolutely amazing.

So, while the experience didn’t feel wholly negative, it left its mark.

And while my mom lost a significant amount of weight through this program, I hated her for it. I hated her so much.

As she shed pounds, she changed more and more. For one thing, my mom started to wear different clothes. For instance, I had never seen my mom in a spaghetti-strap tank top before. Now, not only did she wear those, but she didn’t even cover up with a shirt. She must have felt so proud of her body and all her hard work.

In many ways, mom sent me the message that body image struggles could disappear just like the extra pounds around her waistline. 

However, more changed than just her wardrobe. My mom’s personality began to shift too. She started buying different kinds of makeup, like lip glosses. At one time she wore this horrible almost-white lip gloss all the time—something my friends and I might buy, but not moms. I felt like she wanted to revert back into being a teenager again. As a teenager at the time, I felt taken aback. 

Her new figure drew attention from men, also, and she enjoyed it. Though my dad seemed conflicted; he felt proud to have a thin, attractive wife but also felt bothered when other men would notice her. I remember them making remarks about such encounters in the car as my mom applied a fresh layer of her stupid white lip gloss. My mom would giggle and smirk and then kiss the air in front of the mirror.

I hated it.

And I feel justified in that.

Eventually, my mom gained all her weight back and then some. With that, all her new found youth disappeared and body image struggles took over once again. As far as I know, she still carries a dangerous amount of weight. Her upbeat, flirty personality disappeared as her waistline expanded.

That taught me something: my worth seemed tied to how others, especially men, perceived me. 

Being attractive to men became the goal.

I feel sorry for my mom and her body image struggles. Her weight and self-proclaimed food addiction took over her life. With my dad traveling constantly, she spent much of her marriage alone. I, too, might have gone down a similar path had I married someone like my dad, which I seriously considered in college.

Navigating the complexities of body image and self-worth has been a lifelong journey for me. Reflecting on my past and my mom’s struggles has taught me valuable lessons about resilience, self-compassion, and the importance of a healthy relationship with food. While the scars of those early experiences remain, they also shaped my determination to live a balanced life. 

At 36, I am not only working hard to maintain my physical health but also to foster a positive self-image that isn’t solely defined by external perceptions. My story is a reminder that our worth isn’t determined by our appearance, but by our strength, growth, and the love we show ourselves every day.