Body Dysmorphia Genau Press

Genau Press • MAR 2019

Body DyS mor phia

DEFINITION

Genau Press • MAR 2019

Body dysmorphia can be defined in many different ways depending on who’s experiencing it, but it generally means the perceived, often obsessive, idea that our outward apearance and/or body is severely flawed.

ECHINACEA Amelia Evard ajevard@gmail.com

Genau Press • MAR 2019

Alannah Clark

they called this anorexia because a better word hadn’t been invented yet and told us “don’t be like this” before teaching us to be afraid of becoming the fat girl in the mirror i kept their definition in the back pocket of jeans that never fit right thinking i was just fine even when i wasn’t eating because when i looked into the mirror i didn’t see an obese version of myself

instead i saw the girl i had always known with a face too round and a nose too wide a body where clothes were either too tight or too loose and all the other flaws pointed out by my mother and freeway billboards in their voices i told myself i was fine even though i knew what waited for me behind the glass was me all along exactly as I am and nothing could convince me of anything worse

Genau Press • MAR 2019

I

n textbooks they showed us the same picture of a thin blonde girl looking into a mirror and seeing a girl five times her size staring back

Philamorphia

Sit with your back straight, shoulders relaxed: Breathe in slowly//deeply//comfortably through your nose Breathe out through mouth with a sigh Repeat 6 times, use fingers to count on the exhale On the seventh breath, hold your inhale for a few seconds Exhale completely through nose, allowing a sigh here, too Wait quietly for a few seconds, holding your breath Breathe normally

Inhale, Inhale, Inhale,

slowly say with exhale: Sweet breath of life. slowly say with exhale: I can see this chance I have. slowly say with exhale: I am strong and beautiful.

Picture a secret smile resting on the top of your head Wait quietly for a few seconds, breathing normally say with exhale: I am strong and beautiful. say with exhale:

EVERY BODY IS WELCOME. Genau Press • MAR 2019

Inhale, Inhale,

WHO IS THAT? Violet Elder @violet_eeee

Recently, I’ve found myself wanting to share old photos, from before I entered recovery. The longer I’m in recovery, the more people I meet who didn’t know me before, who don’t know what I used to look like. I feel a need to justify myself. I know that’s just my eating disorder talking, telling me that other people deserve to let their bodies look however they’re gonna look and be happy, but that I never will.

I look at old photos and I’m looking at a stranger whose body I’ve stared at for so many hours, and it’s someone I used to be, and now it’s someone I’m not, but it’s still me, and that kind of strangeness is so heavy sometimes, and if I let myself think about it for too long I feel like I want to start shouting. I scroll down to look at old selfies and the teleprompter in my head is just reading:

“WHO IS THAT WHO IS THAT WHO IS THAT” I feel so close and so far from every version of myself that I have ever been. I’m so separated from who I was at various points in the past but I also hold past versions of myself as “standard Violet” and “default Violet” in my head.

I want someone to read this and reach out to me and say, “Yeah, show me those pictures. You can share them with me. It’s okay,” but I’m not sure if that’s a actually healthy thing to want or do.

Genau Press • MAR 2019

I’ve resisted sharing those photos, for the most part. If I do share old pictures, they’re normally from before I looked a certain way.

Nikki Schneider www.nikkischneider.com @typetacular

Genau Press • MAR 2019

Aimee Lin @thesunweptrose

Sometimes i like to think about how mean i’d be if i were pretty but then i remember Hedy Lamarr, the most beautiful woman in the world—she was the model for snow white—beautiful as the catacombs de paris, with eyelashes like gunpowder.

Genau Press • MAR 2019

when she was young, she was so thunderously gorgeous, no one noticed when she invented the technology behind wifi.(unlike cartoon princesses, life isn’t fair.) and when she was old, she invented new plastic surgeries and then suddenly no one ever saw her anymore.

WORDS LINGER Diane Molandes

I’M TIRED. WORDS LINGER.

Going through puberty, I received an array of mixed messages about my body changes:

“You’re getting so lean,” “Oh my god! Look you’re getting some boobs,” “We’ll teach you how to dance even though you have no ass yet.”

“We gotta tweeze that uni-brow of yours”

Body dysmorphia causes me immense emotional stress. Isolation seemed to be the best way out. Anxiety convinces me if I step out into the world all eyes will be fixed on my every flaw. I’m obsessed with mirrors, I’m afraid of scales, and size is just a number but damn does it feel good when that number is low. It’s hard finding balance. I feel caught between a healthy lifestyle and self-destruction. I want affirmation, love, and nurture, however, asking for help means I’m on display, exposed and vulnerable. Would I burden my loved ones? Or inconvenience them with this insignificant issue that unfortunately runs my life if I reached out? The rational side of me knows I’ll have support, but the rational side isn’t always loud enough to silence the past that haunts me.

I’M TIRED.

Genau Press • MAR 2019

This would be hilarious if I signed up for a pubescent Comedy Roast, but I was 13, just started my 1st period, and had no mother to comfort me. I moved in the middle of 6th grade from Texas to California to lived with my Aunt and Uncle, two people obviously drained and detach from the idea of dealing with another teenager after raising their own kids. I relied on my older female cousins for any advice that could bring hopefulness during this transition. Unfortunately, I received convoluted messages on valuing vanity.

ROLLING HILLS? @anastasia_scheichl

My stomach

Genau Press • MAR 2019

My favorite view in Tahoe

ANOREXIA Annette Kelly @annette_c_kelly

Images: 1. no (second version)« by louise bourgeois (1973) 2. Unknown 3.Self-deceit #6 « by Francesca Woodman (1978)

Genau Press • MAR 2019

I dreamt all of my blood was gone, so I stared eating again.