I Want to be in Pictures: Body Image, Aging, and the Courage to Be Seen

A reflection on body image, aging, and the slow, brave work of self-acceptance

“I want to be in pictures” I heard myself say. This was a first! I’d spent decades hating seeing myself in pictures, but on this particular day and in that very moment, I decided to be in as many pictures as possible from now on. At 68, I finally want to be seen.

This all came about when my personal trainer asked me for a few recent pictures - preferably of me travelling - to use in a promotion she’s creating for a new movement program designed for 55+ men and women. It’s the first of its kind at the gym with the goal of helping us strengthen, but more importantly to increase agility and mobility as we age.

Jenn and I have already started using some of the exercises in my 1-1 sessions, so when she asked me to help her spread the word about the new program, I was happy to help.

As I searched the hundreds of photos I’ve collected, it didn’t take me long to realize there were very few of me other than those I’ve taken from the shoulders up to use to promote my business.

In the past, I did everything I could to stay out of the picture. When I did happen to appear, my inner critic was relentless about making sure I felt terrible about my size, weight and shape. Its eagle eye would scour the picture, picking apart every inch of me - what I was wearing, how I was standing, and God-forbid I should be eating anything other than a carrot.

I spent so much time judging myself, worrying about how I looked, comparing myself to other women – both slimmer and heavier. I dreaded seeing myself, believing my weight was somehow a reflection of all that was wrong with me. I wish I’d been able to look past it to realize I was a product of a society in which restriction and failure strategically kept us compliant and dependent upon profit-driven organizations and diets that were never meant to work in the long term.

At this age and stage in my life I see things very differently now. Despite some residue discomfort at the thought of my body being seen in pictures as she is, larger than I’d like but strong, I feel something I’ve never felt before. I’m not sure how to describe this feeling but it’s there, waiting for me to lean into it instead of pushing it away, ignoring it.

I watched an episode of Everwood on Netflix in which one of the doctors revealed to her family that she contracted HIV from a patient while working overseas. She said something that stopped me in my tracks – I actually paused the video so I could sit with her perspective. She said “I live in this body now. I found a way to love it just as much.”

Step by step I’ve been working towards this – to care for and love this body now, not some time in the future or when she’s smaller. I’ve thought deeply about the importance of finding a way to accept that no matter what, this body is where I live – this body is my place to reside and cherish despite the inconveniences I experience and the limitations I’m navigating.

If this sounds too “pie-in-the-sky” thinking, I too spent a lifetime scoffing at the idea that anyone could actually love their body. And then there’s the whole idea of neutrality and standing in the middle between dislike and love. The problem for me with this concept is that I don’t want to feel neutral about my body – it’s like sitting on the non-committal fence, void of feeling anything about or for this body.

It’s also not as simple a matter as journaling about how grateful I am for this body. No, it’s too easy to think that just because I’ve acknowledged and written about it, I won’t then dismiss gratitude in one fell swoop by uttering a disparaging comment, making a subtle comparison, or ignoring discomfort.

No, I live in this bag of bones, and I want to embrace them. I think that coming to terms with what it means to “live” in this body and to find a way to love her, means that I’m prepared to show up, to be seen without trepidation; that I’m ready to shed my fear of others’ opinions and my own worries and pre-conceived notions of what I “should” look like.

Instead, I’m choosing to think of this change as an act of bravery, to love and accept and own what is rather than what isn’t. I’m not there yet but if I’ve learned anything in the last year-and-a-half while on my weight loss and health journey, it’s that I can do hard things, and one step at a time, become more of the woman I want to be.

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I invite you to take a moment to notice how you speak to the body you live in. Tap and breathe before setting a timer for 3-10 minutes and complete this sentence

“This is the body I live in - and today I’m willing to…”

After you’ve Tapped, reflected, written and reflected some more, I’d love to know what’s emerged for you.

And, just as I am learning, you too are allowed to live “in” your body, to make it your home.

Thanks for reading,

Joan

PS. If you’re ready to explore what it means to truly live in your body—rather than waiting for it to change—I’d love to support you.

You can begin by subscribing to The WISER Woman’s Guide where I share weekly reflections and journaling invitations for women in midlife and beyond. I’m also found on Substack at The Tap and Write Studio

And if you’re drawn to a more guided, experiential approach, the Tap and Write Studio offers live sessions for women, midlife and beyond, that blend EFT tapping with therapeutic/reflective writing.