Issue #20: Aliza introduces the body image series
And Vietnamese American writer Sophia Le talks about why her relationship to her body and food are so intertwined
From the earliest conversations Aja and I had conceptualizing platonic love, we've wanted to tackle body image. Questions like: How does it feel to see your body change after giving birth? Would you ever have plastic surgery? How has your relationship to your body evolved as you’ve aged?1
We’re sharing responses to these questions and more through a series — similar to how we approached friendship in July — opening up a space to connect over our experiences and frustrations, our strengths and our insecurities. Over the next several weeks, we’re going to talk with some incredible women, including
, , , and , about what it means to have a body.I’ve been writing — and mostly deleting(!) — my reflections on body image for months. Body image is complex, incredibly personal, and, even on my best days, sensitive enough it’s felt safer to avoid it.
I’ve thought back to my earliest moments of body consciousness: the moments when I learned the world might see some part of my body as imperfect. Maybe it was when a fellow second-grader teased me for my “thick” arm hair. For years, I comforted myself that at least my arm hair turned light blonde in the summer. But how did he know arm hair on a girl was something to shame? We were eight.
Body image is complex, incredibly personal, and, even on my best days, sensitive enough it’s felt safer to avoid it.
Ten years later, as I sat at lunch with several women in their forties, I discovered a new public enemy number one: forehead wrinkles. It had been less than a decade since Botox received FDA approval for cosmetic use, and forehead wrinkles (God bless us) hadn’t reached the collective consciousness yet — at least, not for 19 year olds. I went to the bathroom to look at my face in the mirror. Oh no, I thought. I have lines in my forehead when I raise my eyebrows. Is that bad?
I’m still not sure. But now I think about my forehead wrinkles, a lot.
Most of the time, the factors that influence our body image are pretty nebulous. Just take the swath of messages and ads we’re inundated with on any commercial block or newsstand. When I think about it too much, I find it overwhelming. As former beauty writer and publisher of one of my favorite newsletters
writes, “Centuries of messages seep into our subconscious and influence our everyday behaviors.”For many years, I’ve acted as though if I didn’t give my body too much of my attention — just enough to “maintain” or “control” it — I would be happy enough. I didn’t always have to love my body, but I wouldn’t hate it either. This is made easier by being born into a white, thin frame, closer than not to the ones propped up as our societal ideal. Like Aja’s explanation around her decision to embrace a “damp lifestyle,”2 I had found an equilibrium (on most days) if I approached my relationship with my body as several notches above “giving zero fucks” and several notches below “injectables.”
But this explanation is smoke and mirrors.
A few weeks before Jude was born, I made an appointment for a lash lift and brow lamination. The idea was to give myself a boost of confidence, reclaim some semblance of control over my body before a life-altering change (and physical toll of sleep deprivation). Maybe it was the momfluencers already seeping into my subconscious.
As I’ve grown older (again, relative), and especially as I’ve gone through the experience of pregnancy and postpartum recovery, I feel less and less in control of any physical outcomes — and I’m still trying to figure out what that means. Even if I’ve never embraced “diet culture,” I haven’t avoided the societal message that thinness and smooth, clear skin are equated with good health — and, even more problematic, moral virtue.
Over the next several weeks, Aja and I will delve deeper into this topic ourselves and with other women who have agreed to share their own stories.
Today,
and I talk about why her relationship to her body and to food are so intertwined — and how becoming a mom has changed that.Sophia Le is a Vietnamese American writing coach and author. She’s the chief storyteller of The Write Life Balance, a twice-monthly newsletter where she shares her writing on the journey to creative expression, authorship, and the pursuit to balance it all.
Aliza (AS): When was your first moment of body consciousness? A moment you learned the world might see some part of your body as imperfect?
Sophia (SL): The spring after my maternal grandmother passed away I noticed a shift in the way my mom presented food to me. Suddenly, my voracious appetite felt like something to curb and control through the best diet advice the 90s had to offer.
My favorite cereals were replaced with Special K in skim milk. My after-school ice cream disappeared in favor of single-serve aspartame-laced yogurts.
I was eight years old at the time.
AS: Did you immediately begin to connect food with body image?
SL: Yes, it wasn’t a secret what my mother wanted. I ingested heaps of iceberg lettuce and ran on the treadmill, but nothing seemed to make a dent on my curves.
Eating only low-fat or sugar-free foods actually made me more hungry and cranky. I experienced brain fog, constipation, and mood swings; as a result, my grades suffered. Not only were my siblings high-achieving academically, but they were also thin. I was a massive disappointment.
AS: How have you reconciled this experience into adulthood?
SL: It’s taken a lot of crash dieting, infomercial exercise programs, and therapy to realize there’s nothing wrong with my body. I might have looked different from other members of my family, but I had to unlearn this socialization to realize I’m not defective.
AS: Do you think about your body more or less now?
SL: Probably the same amount. But the thoughts are very different now — more fueled from curiosity and the drive to experiment instead of ridicule and shame.
I might have looked different from other members of my family, but I had to unlearn this socialization to realize I’m not defective.
When I was younger, I used to convince myself my body didn’t matter; that I was smart and didn’t need to “look good” to advance towards my goals. Then I injured my shoulder and jaw through poor work ergonomics; I had to spend hundreds of dollars on acupuncture to remedy the pain. I had prided myself on being able to sit at a desk for hours — in reality, that’s not something to brag about.
When I was younger, I used to convince myself my body didn’t matter; that I was smart and didn’t need to “look good” to advance towards my goals.
So nowadays, I treat my body with the same importance as my brain and spiritual practice.
AS: That feels like such a healthy approach to treating — and valuing — our bodies. What does that look like for you?
SL: About a year into writing my fiction manuscript, I fell into a creative rut. To get through it, I signed up for an adult ballet class.
Every ballet movement is intentional and precise — from the tilt of your extended arms to the tuck of your abdomen to support your lower back. It was such a valuable lesson in using your body for (internal) creative expression while also pleasing an audience (external validation).
AS: Yes! As a former dancer, I’ve always felt like movement is the best way to connect back to yourself and your creative energy.
How has becoming a mother changed your relationship with your body?
SL: Becoming a mother helped me see my body as a vessel for giving life: something to protect and nourish instead of derive admiration from or loathe.
When I was 24 weeks pregnant, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. At first, I felt cheated. Pregnancy had felt like a chance to binge eat whatever I wanted until labor. But after some time, I found I gained immense power from testing my blood sugar 6x a day, journaling about my meals, and discovering how different foods impacted my health.3
The “Aha!” moment was when I began to realize that what our society deems as “healthy” might not actually be good for my body. There’s no one-size-fits-all solution to health.
AS: Have you maintained any of those rituals or habits postpartum?
SL: Yes, even though my blood sugar levels are back in the normal range, I still pay closer attention to how different foods make me feel. For example, some foods taste good in the short-term but give me terrible brain fog. Others have amazing health benefits but taste awful.4
This comes into play with parenting too — I’m constantly battling between nutrition and taste. If I’m making a smoothie for my daughter, it contains less kale than it used to — but I also include plenty of bananas, berries, and a cooked beet. Then if we’re at the playground for a few hours, I don’t stress if she wants to order chicken tenders and fries.
AS: My mom always told me it’s all about balance, too.
How does body image play into your friendships? Do you and your friends talk about your bodies?
SL: My mother and her friends spent so much time dissecting and criticizing my body as a child that I’ve made a conscious choice not to bring it up with friends.
There are some exceptions; I’ve had friends talk about wanting to [work out / eat better / stop drinking so much], and if there is an interest or openness, I’ll share anecdotes about what has worked for my body. But I always give the caveat it’s up to each person to experiment with what works for them.
AS: Sophia, thank you so much for sharing your journey with us. Are there any favorite books/articles/influencers/etc. on body image or related topics that you would like to recommend to our readers?
SL: Yes, I have a few recommendations, particularly related to food and eating well.
If you are interested in a plant-based diet and only have space for one cookbook, I recommend Amy Chaplin’s At Home in the Whole Foods Kitchen. My copy is so battered, I had to take the pages to Office Depot to get it spiral bound!
I also enjoy Sarah Adler’s work on Simply Real Health. She takes a more holistic approach to nutrition that is so refreshing.
Read more of Sophia’s writing at The-Write Life Balance.
Bonus Content:
As part of this series, we’ll also share some of our favorite content and readings on body image that have influenced us in positive ways:
📰 Is Your Wellness Practice Just a Diet in Disguise? by Melissa A. Fabelo for Bon Appetit. As Fabelo writes, “Today we’ve come to associate the concept of dieting with beauty and vanity, so we’ve eschewed the D-word for more noble-sounding ‘wellness.’”
- “provocatively dissects what it means to become self-aware the hard way, to go from wanting to be silent and invisible to earning a living defending the silenced in all caps.”
😊 A Smaller-Bodied Friend Let Me Borrow Her Bra... by
is, as Tovar says, “a cute story about inter-size solidarity.” Wish there were more of this!
Finally, last week’s most clicked link was the everyday bag I already own in two colors (might get another, too).
As always, thanks so much for reading and supporting this endeavor! This has been a scarier topic to venture into, and while I know we’ve just started, we’d love to hear from you: reactions, feedback, questions?
xo, Aliza
With the caveat that “aged” is relative. Aja’s in her late twenties and I’m in my early thirties.
Aja’s article “Why I’ve decided to stop drinking” — while a different topic entirely — has some unexpected parallels. Highly recommend reading.
Turns out that the so-called healthy egg white breakfast wraps from a certain coffee chain are a disaster for glucose levels!
I’m looking at you, spirulina.
Also a TV show starring Aidy Bryant. I haven’t seen it but have heard great things. (Aja: I have! Highly recommend.)
Thank you for sharing your experience with us, Sophia!
What a wonderful start to this series! There were so many elements of your and Sophia’s stories that felt deeply relatable.