Dear Louise: 'I've struggled with body image as long as I can remember'

Louise O'Neill, author. Photograph Moya Nolan

Dear Louise, I’ve struggled with body image for as long as I can remember. I don’t have any ‘off’ days — I honestly can’t stand the sight of myself. I was sexually assaulted in the past and that’s when I really became disgusted with my body and sexuality. 

Before that I thought I was fat, I struggled with body image and disordered eating, but I wasn’t sexually repressed as I am now. I hate my breasts, I hate the female body and any symbolisation of it. I hope you can offer advice. Thank you.

For those who don’t struggle with chronic body image issues, it’s difficult to fully understand how exhausting it can be. We live in our bodies; they are our only true home. We cannot escape from them. To spend every minute of every day despising our physical selves is an utterly miserable way to live and yet for so many of us, that is our reality. I’m sure there are people today reading your words — when you say you don’t have an ‘off’ day from the self-loathing, that you ‘can’t stand the sight’ of yourself — who can see their own experiences reflected back in that. When we hate our bodies, it bleeds into every other part of our lives.

Often, we deprive ourselves of things that bring us joy because we don’t believe we deserve them. We tell ourselves that when we are thin enough (by which we mean ‘good’ enough) that we will go swimming, we will buy nice clothes, or we will order the dessert. You don’t need me to tell you that this punitive thinking is a desperate waste of your one, precious life. You are good enough, just as you are right now. You don’t need to change anything about yourself to be worthy of love and respect.

When you’re coming from a place of intense self-hatred, the idea of loving yourself or your body seems impossible. 

I wonder if it might be helpful for you to strive for acceptance of your body rather than appreciation. That’s not to say the latter won’t come, in time, but for now, even feeling neutral about your body might be a huge relief.

When I was in recovery from my eating disorder, the first thing I had to do was to tackle my self-talk.

Every time I had a disordered thought about my body, weight, or food, I would pause, notice the thought and acknowledge it, and then remind myself that I was free to choose another thought. (For example, if I was eating my dinner and a negative thought arose, I would tell myself something like, “I need food to fuel my body. I want to be healthy and well. I am worthy of nourishment”.) This is not easy in the beginning; when we have been berating ourselves and using hurtful language to describe our bodies for years, it feels unnatural to be kind to ourselves.

But with repetition, practice, and determination, it can be done — I promise you. I would also recommend curating your social media feed, muting or unfollowing accounts that make you feel negative about your body, and instead, follow accounts that celebrate body positivity and the Health At Every Size movement. You could also listen to self-hypnosis tapes while you’re falling asleep at night, ones that focus on positive affirmations around your body and sexuality.

You wrote in your letter that you were sexually assaulted and I’m so sorry that happened to you. You didn’t mention if you’re seeing a therapist but if you’re not, I would highly recommend contacting your local rape crisis centre for more support.

It’s not unusual for people who have been abused or assaulted to develop disordered eating, and it’s also not unusual for sexual trauma to exacerbate existing disorders. When the body is seen as the battleground for the traumatic experience, it seems almost instinctive that we would turn against it or try and punish it in this way. 

(As an aside — have you heard of The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel Van Der Kolk? It’s a transformative book which looks at the “extreme disconnection from the body that so many people with histories of trauma and neglect experience”, and helps us to heal our mind, brain, and body. I have a feeling you might find it helpful.)

And while rape and sex are two very different things, they are often conflated and some survivors believe they can somehow protect themselves from future violence by ‘disguising’ their sexuality. Do you think your disgust with your breasts and the female body might be related to this? And if so, can you challenge that idea?

Not everybody who experiences sexual violence struggles with their sexuality afterwards but it is a common reaction. 

It can be devastating for many survivors, many of whom feel as if sex has become inextricably linked to their trauma, but it can be overcome. You don’t have to resign yourself to a life of self-loathing — you deserve so much more than that. You can enjoy a neutral relationship with your body and recover your sexuality, but it will take time and patience and an infinite amount of kindness directed internally. 

Picture yourself this time next year, or in five years, in 10 years. Think about a life in which you choose self-compassion and self-care, one where you choose to be gentle with yourself and your body. Imagine what that would feel like. Imagine the relief.

• Louise always recommends speaking with a professional for more support. If you have a question that you would like answered, email [e-mail]