“I Stopped Chasing Perfection – Here’s Why Owning My Body Feels So Much Better” 

This year began, as most have done since my mid-teens, with me feeling uncomfortable – ashamed, even – of my body. Dreading the summer already, a time when layers get shrugged off and my lack of confidence feels more exposed than ever.

I’ve written before about my lifelong lack of body confidence, regardless of my varying dress sizes. I’ve been honest that I feel smaller as a person when my physicality is larger. I had nothing but supportive feedback from readers who said they felt understood. But body talk has become increasingly loaded, so first let me state that I’m not here to diminish anyone else’s journey with their body. Quite the contrary.

Much of the talk and hashtagging around weight in recent years has been part of the body positivity movement, which can trace its roots back to 1969 and the rise of the Fat Rights Movement. It is about accepting our own – and other people’s – bodies without prejudice. The theory is great but, sadly, the space has become increasingly negative.

You only have to look at the public’s reaction to the wave of celebrities who, once known for embracing their bodies, have since lost weight to see this mood-shift play out in real time. Rebel Wilson’s 2018 romcom Isn’t It Romantic was centred around her being a plus-sized lead – two years later, her “year of health” resulted in an 80lb weight loss. Then there’s Lizzo, known for song lyrics extolling self-love and a clothing and shapewear line designed to fit “every single body”, who recently shared on Instagram that she’s reduced her body fat by 16%. And Dronme Davis, who gained a strong following as a curve model with Instagram posts that called out diet culture, has told the New York Times that she feels “scared of being judged or yelled at or letting people down” after losing weight. As a result, all these women have faced critique online – and even lost social media followers as a result.

But why should being positive about your body mean that you cannot change it? Specifically, changing it to be smaller. (I can’t help but think that people would have cared less if these women had gained weight.) As the French novelist and poet Jules Verne once said, “Movement is life,” so why have we still not reached a point where a woman can find positivity in her body, whatever its size or shape, and what she chooses to do with it? 

Of course, it’s never been easier to change your appearance, thanks to the availability of weight loss injections such as Ozempic, Wegovy and Mounjaro. I’ve recently discovered that so many people I know are using them. Some leading makeup artists have told that many of their already-slim celebrity clients are on them because thinness has more currency (read: brand opportunities) than ever. It’s more bad news for body positivity, and makes our relationship and the expectations on bodies even more complex.

Last March, Lizzo spoke out, saying that body positivity has evolved into body neutrality. Personally, I don’t want to feel neutral about my body – though I agree observers of it should see it with neutrality. We know there is prejudice towards overweight women, and that if you’re deemed too large it can affect you professionally: from being hired, promoted or even paid less. In 2023, The Institute for Employment Studies said that women in the UK living with obesity saw a 9% wage penalty, but overweight men did not. It’s a similar story across the globe, from Spain to South Korea.

“Society places so many expectations on how we should relate to our bodies,” confirms Tasha Bailey, psychotherapist and author of Real Talk: Lessons From Therapy On Healing And Self-Love. “We’re constantly being told how our bodies should look and what we should be doing with them. This can leave many of us feeling disconnected from ourselves, as if our body doesn’t truly belong to us. When that happens, concepts like body positivity or even body neutrality can feel out of touch.”

That is exactly why I’ve decided to break out of this system and any established terminology bogged down in conflict and negativity. I’ve had enough of that inside my own head. Since my mother died – she was a woman who never found peace with her own body – I’ve come to realise how much of my life I’ve felt almost apart from my own. I’ve never quite felt full autonomy or jurisdiction over it; never believed that it was only my sense of it that mattered. Throughout my life, I’ve given away power over the perceptions of my own body to my mum, and to others.

Not anymore. My focus is now body ownership. I don’t mean the purely scientific notion of knowing that my body belongs to me. I mean it as a movement where the goal is to develop an all-encompassing relationship with my body, to take full sovereignty over how I treat and talk about it, while learning how it works and how best to move and care for it. “Cultivating a sense of ownership shifts the focus from appearance to function, encouraging us to recognise what our body is capable of – and the autonomy we have over it – which all helps build a healthy relationship with it,” agrees Tasha. “Practising acceptance of our body’s needs and honouring the control we have over it is profoundly empowering, instead of viewing our body through the lens of societal expectations.”

To help with this shift in outlook, I’ve signed up to Zoe, the personal nutritional coach app, to understand the food that my body processes best; I’m also working with a nutritionist to maximise the results. On my desk is a Stride Biome testing kit to keep track of my gut health – and I’m already feeling empowered by trying to learn about myself, rather than learning the protocols of another diet. Next steps will be getting on top of HRT, finding sports that work for me, working on breathing techniques, mindfulness and talking to experts about my emotional connection to food. My hope is that by concentrating on supporting my body in doing its job, I will ultimately feel less inhibited inside it.

But I also recognise that I might not have reached this place of seeking ownership if it weren’t for the body positivity movement in the first place. After all, it has opened the door for more honest discussions about our bodies, even though that door has also been slammed in many faces and judgements are still rife.

Thankfully, good change is afoot, and Catie Miller of London-based and online barre studio Barre Series (one of the only group exercise classes I’ve ever enjoyed) says I’m not alone in this perspective. “I’m noticing an inspiring shift among women embracing where they are right now, without waiting for the ‘perfect moment’ to begin,” she says. “They are reclaiming their wellness on their own terms, moving in harmony with their own rhythm, and learning to trust their bodies more deeply.” This feels like something to celebrate. And it feels to me, like body ownership: a place of self-knowledge that ultimately is rooted in self-love.