Representation – Part 2 (Bonus post)
Or: How feeling represented is life-changing and life-stirring
As a reminder, all posts in May 2024 are free to all subscribers. This includes any bonus posts, like this one. Happy reading!
I recently wrote about my experience feeling represented for the first time in 52 years as a result of Nicola Coughlan’s recent success with two shows (Bridgerton and Big Mood). As I wrote this article on representation, I realized that Nicola made a statement in 2022 that I wanted to honor as best as I could, while also exploring what this has meant for me a bit further. For reference, Nicola’s statement reads:
“Can we please stop asking women about their weight in interviews, especially when it’s completely irrelevant," she wrote. "Every time I'm asked about my body in an interview it makes me deeply uncomfortable and so sad I'm not just allowed to just talk about the job I do that I so love." (2022)
Though I have written about her appearance as part of my experience of representation, I hope my intention is understood that it was from a perspective of relatability and my own self-awareness. This experience has prompted more thoughts for me about body image in general as well as the current body positivity movement, which I’m now trying to make sense of for myself.
To that end, and as a follow-up to the previous article, I want to explore the more body-centric thoughts I’ve been having, especially as they relate to representation. Please note: This article also comes with a Trigger Warning (TW) for eating disorders. So, if this is a sensitive issue for you, please feel free to stop reading.
As I said in my previous article, the first moment I realized that representation was what I was feeling, I got choked up. It brought in relief in ways I could never have explained before. When you hear people talk about representation, even if you agree with the concept, I think it’s hard to actually relate to it until you feel it yourself. At least that was my experience.
Also in my experience… In our society, the prejudice against being “bigger” than some prescribed or desired “norm” is so pervasive that it permeates everything we see on a daily basis. It’s a disparagement that is applicable to anyone that fits that description, regardless of what other demographic you may identify with. So much so that people are willing to literally starve themselves into illness or death in order to “fit in” and avoid the shame and stigma that often comes with having anything but the socially ideal figure. You only need to look at the explosion in the use of Ozempic and other similar drugs in recent years to understand just how far-reaching this is, as well as how dangerous it has become.
I have felt a fair amount of this shame myself throughout my life. Even when I was in college and significantly smaller than I currently am, I felt it. I remember one time when my playwriting professor included a line in a writing exercise we were working on in which she “teasingly” disparaged a larger woman behind her in the check-out line at the grocery store for buying Ho-Ho’s. Everyone in the class laughed. I chuckled in order to not stand out, but inside I felt ill. It was cruel, not funny or witty. (And yes, 30+ years later, that memory still stings.)
On social media, there is a lot of argument around “body positivity” and what it actually means. For those who disagree with it, they equate it to giving a “get out of jail free” card to people who are “overweight”—as if someone trying to learn to love themself equates to sanctioning gluttony or laziness (neither of which are true). That’s just one example of course, and there are many more representing an incredibly wide spectrum of beliefs ranging from cruelty to ignorance. It’s staggering how many divisive and often uninformed voices feel obliged to add their opinions to something they haven’t personally experienced. (Note: I am not an expert on this, but there are experts and activists/advocates in the field, so if you want a deeper dive, please seek them out. I have found Katie Sturino to be a good place to start and a reliable source.)
This exploration has invited me to really think about what body positivity means to me. Here’s what I have come up with:
For me, body positivity is about empowering someone to be comfortable in their own skin, whatever that looks like or means for them. It’s about supporting people to love who they are, as they are, even if they want to change something. And although I have been on the fringes of watching and learning from body positive activists, I can say I didn’t actually understand it in a way that made sense to me until I experienced representation through watching Nicola Coughlan show up and simply be herself.
For me, representation shifted “body positivity” to a space where it isn’t about the “body” at all—it’s about the person. “Body positivity” became “body normalization” akin to something Lizzo said in Vogue in 2020.
Though it was seeing myself in a physical aspect of Nicola that prompted me to feel truly represented for the first time, it was actually her overall presence that has been the gift I needed. Somehow, her presence—the entirety of her—has given me permission to exist.
It’s not that I couldn’t exist before, but it always felt limited. As if I could only justify existing in certain spaces, most of which were behind the scenes or not visible. As a writer, that seemed to be okay; but if I’m honest, it also felt like I was settling. It also created a deep internal struggle. One that I have held close to my chest, until now.
“…it was actually [Nicola’s] overall presence that has been the gift I needed.”
For years, the world has told me that my appearance mattered more than anything else, and my work would only ever be as good as I could look on the outside. At least, that’s how I internalized the messaging I received for over five decades (and I know I’m not alone in that as a woman). The truth is, what I’m wearing and how I look are simply anecdotes to the main story, and I can choose how, if, and when I want to engage with those anecdotes on a daily basis. Even if it still feels marginally daunting to be seen, my focus has shifted.
Now that I’ve seen another woman who I can relate to, not only existing in public spaces but thriving in those same spaces on her own terms, I feel like my life can have more breadth and breath. It feels, in a word… freeing.