In the grand scheme of our collective mental health, one thing is true – self acceptance and self love are critical in any successful recovery and overall happiness. The way we perceive our reflection and our happiness with what faces us directly impacts our confidence both at home and in the outside world.
In my recovery, the way I feel about myself is proving to be one of the biggest sticking points. A trait I’m really struggling with. I’ve been putting the work in while I’ve been away (more on this to come). Weekly sessions with a regular support worker and therapist, getting to grips with everything from practical ways to get out again, to my biggest fears and concerns. The hardest part awaits me – trauma counselling – but I want to be ready, and that means overcoming the things that repeatedly tug me backwards. No matter how hard I try to discuss myself with my therapist, how much I try to look for ways to be positive about my story, think about talking about how I move forward without paranoia, anxiety, depression and agoraphobia weighing me down, I find the steps forward impossible because, in the end, I feel judged for my appearance.
As I said to him recently, if you happen to bump in to a group of kids looking to have a laugh at someone elses expense, then the fat girl in the wheelchair with hair that touches the floor and who won’t make eye-contact seems like the obvious option. Being confronted like this would be a catastrophe for me, and no doubt set me back to where I started.
My confidence with how I look is clearly a big problem. No matter how fat, thin, happy, sad, long-haired, short-haired, made-up, or made-down I’ve been. Nothing looks right, everything is worth mocking.
I still have a lot of work to do. But there’s one area where I may have cracked it…
Our relationship with hair…
So, grey hair. No, lets just start with hair. It’s something we all have, and whatever we’ve got, we want it to be different.
I lusted after the hair of one of the girls in our year at secondary school. Long, red and curly…like Disneys Merida but she was dressed in a dull grey pair of trousers and matching cardigan instead. To be honest, the greyness only made that lucky cow’s bouncy locks stand out more.
I remember a conversation with Merida back when we were pretending to be quiet during another lacklustre weekly assembly. I’d made the terrible decision to allow my mum to cut my hair at age 13. I ended up parading an unexpected bob with multiple nonsensical longer sections around the school (no, my mother was not a hairdresser!) . The whispered chat at the back of the hall naturally turned to my altered barnet. I remember telling Merida how much I craved hair like hers, hair with bounce and personality, hair that makes you stand out. Her response?
“I hate it. It takes hours to wash and brushing it is horrible. If I had staright hair like hers (*points to Rapunzel*) I’d be happy”. Disgruntled she hadn’t chosen to opt for my square shaped lob, the quiet conversation changed.
Age 13 and I’d had my first beauty-based shock, and it came from a friend. I perceived this girl as having follicular perfection, but she despised it. This became a common theme in life, and it crossed the gender divide too. Men with bald heads wanted a fade and curls on top, but the men who already had a dreamy top wished their hair grew faster, or looked darker, or had less grey. It didn’t matter what hair someone was graced with, every time I mentioned it the other person was never happy. One persons trash is another persons treasure, I guess.
I’ve spent 30 years of my life living by this mantra – that my hair is shit, and the hair of the next person is far better. That my life would somehow be more fulfilling and cheerful if I had hair like them. I think I may have been wrong…
Grey pride
Around a year ago I stood in the bathroom mirror assessing the car crash that faced me. Scars on my arms and belly, wrinkles on my thighs and hips, a turkey neck that won’t firm up no matter how many buckets of callogen I apply, and a head of hair that’s so long I can now sit on it without realising. I don’t feel good naked, and apparantly I like to remind myself by looking at it all every now and then.
Ready for my close up (usually for an intense inspection of the whattle), I leaned towards the mirror. Instead of being drawn in by the fine lines, wrinkles, blemishes and rosacea that usually attract attention, I noticed something shining. It sparkled as I got closer, it was in my hair, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
I was 43, and I was finally going grey.
Now, you’d be forgiven for thinking that Steph was going to lose her mind. In fact, Steph was probably going to cry and think of these few silver strands as further evidence that the world is against her. But you’d be wrong.
Weirdly, I hadn’t thought hard about going grey before. Both my parents had grey hair, so subconsciously I knew it was coming. I remember my mum spending most of the 80’s with a cardboard box of Chestnut Brown Nice and Easy hair colour in her shopping basket. I was brought up in a world where grey = bad, but I hadn’t given it much thought. It seems that my impending heriditary hair challenge wasn’t a challenge at all. In fact…
I liked it.
It could have been a mentally distressing moment where I discovered a new reason to dislike my features, but the opportunities to feel depressed, anxious or (at worst) panic, were overlooked.
One year on, and I have a lot more of the light streaks to show for my 44 years on earth. There are now definite lines of the hair that stick out from my natural reddish/brown colour. To be honest, it’s pretty clear I now have greying hair. But instead of finding it a barrier or a problem, I’ve leaned straight in to it. I’m actually happy to show it off and the thought of hiding it has never crossed my mind (don’t think I’ve said that many times before!).
This wasn’t a prepared or conscious thought, I was simply proud of something my body produced on it’s own. FINALLY.
Why does this matter?
Well, for the first time I understand what it’s like to feel happy with something in the mirror. It’s refreshing and in some ways, powerful. I can see what therapists are trying to achieve when they repeatedly attempt to pull a positive out of you amongst all the relentless negative. Is my body still something I dislike, of course. Can I look in the mirror and find something to smile about, yes. It’s not all bad, and I think that might be where the power lies.
That one small seed of confidence and pride can grow into something far more special and significant. For me, it tightens the relationship with my mum, who’s now been passed for 16 years. Remembering how adamant she was that grey had to be covered, only to go the opposite direction myself and show her (wherever she is) that I was never bothered by those silver strands she had, makes me feel connected. In a tiny, odd way.
So the first lesson I found is one of personal acceptance. Although it’s such a small insignificant thing, finding something I didn’t hate about myself was a eureka moment. Like I’d cracked the code of my self-loathing brain, and left it injured and weaker in the process.
Mental health and body image
How do my thoughts about grey hair effect other people?
Statistically speaking, body image and the way we feel about ourselves is one of the most important elements of balancing mental health. According to Mental Health UK…
60% of adults have felt a negative emotion about their body image
and even more worryingly…
Just over one in five adults (22%) and 40% of teenagers said images on social media caused them to worry about their body image
Unsurprisingly, with the rise of the online world and the lack of community engagement that’s available these days, this poor body image sows a seed of negativity and doubt which, in the right climate, can have a terrible effect on a persons wellbeing. My experience proves that we don’t need to let outside influences effect how we feel about ourselves. We can take ownership and decide what we like, and what we don’t. Other people, the media and the online world have never, and will never, have that right.
Conversely, the Mental Health Foundation confirms…
Body satisfaction and appreciation have been linked to better overall wellbeing and fewer unhealthy behaviours (especially in dieting)
Although it seems a tenuous link, me finding some happiness in my hair colour genuinely was a moment to feel some relief and less self-hatred, however small. And, as my kid was in the bathroom shortly after talking about dinosaurs, it was also a moment we shared and I could explain it to her without framing greyness negatively.
That’s not to say I haven’t passed on any bad body image thoughts already. I try not to, but I really do hold a lot of shame about how I look. It would be hard for her not to see, hear and digest it, so it’s something I actively work on when I’m with her, even if I can’t do it for myself yet.
That moment got me thinking with more clarity that the impact of positive body image isn’t something you manage for your own mental health, it’s something you pass on for the mental wellbeing of others too.
I don’t doubt you have people that listen to what you say and digest it as important information, whether it’s friends, family or followers ;- we are responsible for our words and communication. How we talk about ourselves, how we feel about our ever-changing bodies, only passes to them and leaves behind a feeling that can be good or bad.
Essentially, if we can find reasons to balance our self-love and self-hate and be open about those feelings, then we’ll assist others in understanding the importance of such a balance too. If we can normalise seeing the things that are wonderful about our mirror image rather than only harvesting the things we perceive as bad, we might make it easier for others to do the same. If we can accept the compliment with grace rather than rejecting it with self-loathing, then we’ll show others it’s ok to love what they’ve got.
Now, I started with grey hair here, and although it’s a tiny thing that doesn’t hold all the answers, I hope it’s made me think differently. Not just about the colour of my barnet, but about the misery I protrude when I’m forced to talk about how I look, or try on a new dress, or hear a compliment etc.
Of course I’m acutely aware that beauty isn’t just about appearance, but as a child of the 80’s it’s going to take time for me to loosen my grip on needing to LOOK good above the value of the beauty that comes from within. I’m working on it because I understand it’s importance, but in the real world my mirror still matters.
How to improve body image
I’ve read several books about improving body image, especially as a plus size woman. Happy Fat by Sofie Hagen is a great book with plenty of thought provoking moments about self acceptance. You are not a before picture (what a great title) by Alex Light is another book I’d recommend for the same purpose.
There are also free resources online that are helpful for us adults, as a resourse for parents / guardians, and for the younger generation too.
- Medical News Today has a report called What is Body Image?, with practical ideas you can try to help cultivate a better relationship with yourself.
- The Mental Health Foundation have tips about body image that are aimed at teenagers and their guardians called Tips to improve body image.
- The Young Minds Body Image page has lots of advice, resources and information about body image specifically aimed at young people, with additional advice for those concerned about any young persons welfare.
In conclusion…
I have, without question, gone around the houses here. What started as a post about a Disney character has turned into a post about body image and the effect it can have on the mental wellbeing of any human.
But, like all things, real change starts at grassroots, and hopefully (if cared for over time) it can build into something that’s stronger, normalised and difficult to change back again. If someone like me, someone with such extreme problems looking in the mirror that she only does it once in a while, can finally find a feature to appreciate about her looks, then anyone can. You have to be brave enough to look, you have to be brave enough to listen, and you have to be brave enough to accept. Then you can pass it on and the seed is sewn.
Just like Merida, I hope my greyness makes me bouncier, happier and more attractive both inside and out. I hope.
If you are looking for advice or support with any aspect of mental health (whether it’s your own or someone you care for) then please take a look at my mental health and suicide prevention support page, which has contact information and links for many organisations who can help in lots of different circumstances.
Love yourself, and take care. Your ass looks great today!
Creative Steph 