I changed my Instagram feed and it helped me actually like my body
Commentary: It's time to start investing in sustainable happiness instead of chasing fleeting standards of beauty.
- She received the Renau Writing Scholarship in 2016 from the University of Louisville's communication department.
The last three years have put a lot in perspective for me. I never expected that Instagram would help me down the path.
This year, for the first time in over 15 years, I didn't make a New Year's resolution to lose weight. And no, I didn't disguise a weight loss resolution as eating healthier or exercising more. When I woke up on Jan. 1, 2022, it felt like I'd unconsciously made a New Year's resolution to be happy. As February begins, it still feels like that.
Weight loss is a common resolution to make. Even if you didn't set your sights on weight loss, the concept is hard to avoid when companies ramp up advertising campaigns for gym memberships, diet plans and apps at the beginning of January.
Predatory, ever-present advertising across social media platforms like Instagram, Facebook and YouTube promotes unsustainable, expensive and often unhealthy methods to "achieve" the ideal body. The commercials buzz with "testimonies" about how easy it is to follow the plan and how fast the weight fell off. The implication: If your results aren't the same, you must've done something wrong. You lack the willpower. It's your fault.
If your New Year's resolution was to eat healthier, exercise more or lose weight, please know that I'm not here to criticize you. If you abandoned your resolution -- like many people do around this time of year -- I'm also not here to criticize you. But we do need to be critical of the social ideals and perceptions that stereotype large bodies as "before" images that need to be changed.
Weight loss was a substitute goal for me -- a mask put over the thought that, "If I lose more weight, I'll be happier." TV says so, magazines say so, social media says so. But I'm here to tell you that you don't have to lose weight to find joy in your life. Here's how I'm finding sustainable happiness in 2022.
Instagram can change the way you view your body for the better
My body has always been larger. Even if I was at a healthy, normal weight -- which I never believed I was -- I was tall. I always felt like I took up too much space, even after others caught up with my height in high school. Even at my thinnest or my most in-shape, it was never good enough. The pandemic amplified those anxieties by removing every sense of normalcy in my life.
To be clear, I was no health nut before March 2020, but I had some good habits in place like packing a healthy lunch to take to work and following along with yoga videos a few nights a week.
My wedding day was wonderful, but when I look at this photo, I remember feeling so self-conscious. I'd been on an unsustainable crash diet for almost a year. I'd lost 30 pounds by my wedding day, but it still didn't feel like enough.
When the pandemic struck, I initially enjoyed the novelty of working in pajamas, watching copious amounts of Netflix, neglecting meal-prep and learning how DoorDash worked when we didn't want to cook dinner (which was more often than not). But when the novelty faded, depression and anxiety took up residence in the vacant space. My pre-pandemic mindset continued firing in the background -- why couldn't I just work out more? Why couldn't I make better eating choices?
Like most of the world, I flocked to social media – scouring Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram and TikTok, starving for a sense of community, a shred of normalcy. Social media was rife with problems before the pandemic and those problems remained -- perhaps intensified -- as user totals climbed. We found solace in seemingly authentic posts during the first year -- people sharing personal stories, leaning on one another, creating events and spaces to enjoy hobbies -- but it was short-lived.
The social media machine steamed ahead, the world slowly began opening up again and it wasn't long until "stay home, stay healthy" posts were overshadowed by images and videos of folks venturing out for vacation, parties and pre-pandemic activities (however ill-advised). Carefully edited images with flattering filters contrasted sharply with coffee for breakfast and staying in pajamas all day.
My brain immediately erased anything I'd accomplished or been proud of over in 2020, and I lamented every day I didn't exercise and every night we had fast food for dinner. I remained in a spiral of self-hatred and shame until I came across an Instagram post from journalist and National Eating Disorder Association ambassador Danae Mercer.
The video was about how to "sit like an influencer" in photos. I watched her meticulously arrange her legs, her clothes, arch her back and adjust the light before capturing the image. Instead of leaving it at that, Mercer dropped all the angles for the next image and relaxed her body. The "tips" cluttering the screen were replaced with "or just sit comfy and know online [isn't] real."
"I just want to remind you that the internet is not real," Mercer wrote in the video description. "So don't compare your wonderful, relaxed self with a single snapshot. Not even when it comes to sitting." It was a revelation that would ultimately reshape my entire Instagram feed and even my self-image.
Deep cleaning my Instagram during the pandemic
Mercer's Instagram account is full of videos and photos that pull back the curtain on just how carefully edited social media is. She demonstrates how easy it is to fake "before and after" images with poses, how easily you can completely change your photo with editing apps and more. She also posts vulnerable, honest messages about her own struggles and ongoing self love and acceptance journey.
I couldn't stop watching her videos. Mercer's account led me to similar Instagram accounts run by folks of all shapes and sizes celebrating themselves, living their lives, enjoying their lives, as well as eating healthy and exercising without weight loss being the ultimate goal. They weren't waiting to be thin to go to the beach, to go on a date, to buy new clothes or eat a slice of cake.
As I followed more accounts I realized that I'd put my life on hold. The pandemic was the biggest obstacle, yes, but I was "sheltering in place" -- mentally and physically -- long before COVID-19 cases surged. I took stock of how many times I avoided a pool party, consulted a food logging app's advice before ordering at a restaurant, chose jeans over shorts in the dead of summer, changed my clothes multiple times in the morning and stewed in jealousy when someone I knew lost weight.
If you search certain phrases and words on social media, like Tumblr, for example, the platform will redirect you to helpful resources. The option to view the content still remains.
After following dozens of body positive accounts (and unfollowing accounts that weren't) my Instagram algorithm drastically changed. Bodies outside of traditional beauty standards became the norm on my feed. The ads and accounts glorifying unsustainable diets and fitness regimes were replaced with normal, relatable women who told me it was OK to take up space. And that's something I've never believed was OK.
Rewriting decades-old beliefs is a monumental task -- but seeing myself represented consistently in the media I consume has greatly helped the process. My reworked Instagram feed now features positive messages from bodies that look like mine. Even when someone's body doesn't look like mine, the message doesn't tell me that I'm less worthy of love and happiness.
These accounts not only help me reframe current thoughts, but old memories too. The good times and good friends that accompanied good food -- healthy or not.
Your body has never truly been the problem
The positive changes I've experienced since reworking my Instagram only reiterate the fact that social media hasn't done enough to combat unhealthy diet culture and fat phobia. To their credit, Facebook, Tumblr, Pinterest and Instagram do have safety guards in place. If you search for certain words or phrases, you'll get a pop up message suggesting eating disorder hotlines and resources. There's still the option to view the images.
But it's still possible to search for accounts, images and tags that glorify eating disorders. And access to that kind of media can reinforce outdated, harmful perspectives.
Not only are larger bodies stereotyped in television shows, according to the American Medical Association Journal of Ethics, larger social media influencers disproportionately have their posts removed and flagged as inappropriate in comparison to thin influencers.
Negative attitudes towards obese individuals have created a negative stigma that leads to prejudice and discrimination, according to a 2021 study published by the National Center for Biotechnology Information. The discrimination also extends to the workplace and job searches.
In her book Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia, Sabrina Strings, an assistant professor of sociology at UC Irvine points out that fat phobia has been around for hundreds of years and its roots are racist.
"In my research, I found that thinness has been a mainstream archetype in the US since at least the early 19th century," Strings said during a 2019 interview with the University of California. "That precedes the medical establishment's concerns about excess weight by nearly 100 years. It shows that slimness -- while today associated with medical concerns -- was not primarily, historically, about health."
Read more: Suicide and self-harm content is scarily easy to find on social media
You are good enough just as you are
The ultimate goal isn't to banish "thin" bodies from social media. Instead, online spaces need to represent more types of bodies in positive ways, stop assigning traits like "good" or "bad" to food and present healthy eating and exercise as good habits for general well being and not only for weight loss.
This photo was taken in 2012. It was a hot day, but I wasn't confident enough to wear shorts. After I posted the photo on social media, I was fixated on how big I thought my thighs looked. Today, I'm trying to clear the hypercritical thoughts attached to so many of my memories and remember what was truly good about that day.
In addition to finding Instagram accounts run by folks that make you feel seen and good about yourself, accounts that debunk "beauty" and photo-editing apps can help when reworking your social media feed. Editing technology has gotten so advanced that we're often striving to attain a look that is quite literally not real. I can only imagine how it must be for some models -- to have the ideal body or look, but still not be viewed as good enough.
Everyone's journey will be different, but the pivotal moment for me was looking in the mirror recently and actually being happy with what I saw. Instead of drowning in thoughts about who I wished I looked like, I thought of the influencers who were creating spaces for different kinds of bodies. I'm not at my thinnest, but I am happy.
The last two years have given us a lot of room to take stock and find perspective in multiple areas of our lives. Each generation was held to an impossible standard in some way and imparted that on the next generation. But those standards can be redefined and we can break the cycle.
Take this advice into the new year and all the years to come: Weight gain is not inherently bad. Weight gain has been pretty common during the pandemic and it doesn't only happen because you chose McDonald's over something with kale.
Fat is not a bad word. Fat does not negate beauty. Wear the shorts and the crop top. Enjoy ice cream with your friends on a hot day. Charcuterie board? Yes please. You can still enjoy bread and cheese while you train for a marathon. Working out shouldn't be a punishment because you drank a soda.
Life is too short to be miserable. Life is too short to wait to be happy and enjoy things.