Why Jonah Hill Is My Spirit Animal

I have been uncomfortable in my body since I first sprouted boobs.

I remember one particularly troublesome time, when I was probably 11 or so, while out running with a friend. He was on his bike and I jogged alongside him. I recall glancing down at my body and feeling embarrassed by my chest. Like it was the only thing anyone could see…not that there was much to peek at, mind you.

That is my earliest memory of feeling uncomfortable in my skin.

I found an interesting quote as I began pulling ideas together for this post:

“Womanhood is something you don’t consider until it hits you.”

- Laura Marling, singer + songwriter

It’s a perfect summation of my feelings. As an athletic, mud-covered, bike-riding little girl, I never thought about my body, unless it was to consider how I could run faster or throw further. When my body began to change, it was all I could think about. And I just never stopped.

I am a lot of things - some intentional, and some not so much. I’m kind. And funny. And driven to a fault. Clever. Persistent. Silly. A terrible singer. I give great hugs. And kiss boo-boos like a champ. I care about my people to no end. I can cook complicated, multi-step recipes, but not rice. I love soccer. And naps. And spending time alone. I work really hard. I’m highly educated. Addicted to Trader Joe’s. And so many other things. But sometimes, in the blink of an eye, I find myself reduced to nothing more than a set of body parts.

I hate hearing comments about my physical appearance. HATE. They make me so uncomfortable. I don’t care if you’re telling me I’m pretty as a peach or if my appearance is akin to a pile of dog barf in the backyard. I feel uncomfortable either way. Society has a way of telling women - both implicitly and explicitly - that appearance matters above all other things…and that message can be really harmful.

This blog, from 2018, does a great job of explaining why comments such as this are problematic:

“Well-meaning compliments like: “Have you lost weight? You look great! What diet are you on?” or “Wow, look at her body. I wish I looked like that!” can cause more harm than good. It reinforces the lie that in order to be healthy or worthy, we must be at a smaller size.

Quite often, we don’t have any idea of what’s going on in a person’s life, whether it be illness, stress at work, or limited access to food that led to their weight and body size changes.  For those who may be suffering from disordered eating and over-exercising, there is no way of understanding the type of extremes they are pushing themselves in order to maintain their body size.”  

This part below cut me to the core:

“And when these behaviors are validated by an incoming stream of compliments, it essentially confirms to the person that they should continue behaviors that may be ruining their life.”

Remember way back when I wrote this blog talking about an unhealthy relationship with food and exercise? Comments about my body - commending my smaller size, or commitment to healthy eating, or discipline to exercise so often - fueled my unhealthy behaviors.

But what about now? Well, now I have a much healthier relationship with food and exercise. I still eat pretty healthfully and move my body regularly because those things feel good to me. These behaviors no longer consume me and that is significant emotional progress. But guess what? Comments about my body still fuel unhealthy behaviors. When I hear them, I need to engage is some pretty serious self-talk to dismiss them. After years of training myself to be concerned about society’s expectations of my appearance, my subconscious inclination is to return to an unhealthy place. It’s muscle memory, I guess.

This isn’t just an issue for me. It’s also not just an issue for women. In October, Jonah Hill posted about this very topic on his Instagram page.

As I was writing this piece, I Googled “why I don’t like comments about my body.” There are over three billion results. Apparently Jonah and I are not alone in our feelings.

“When we comment on someone’s “new body”, we are essentially saying there was something wrong with it before.”

I always thought I was uncomfortable with comments about my physical appearance because I’m not good at accepting compliments. That’s not it at all. Tell me I’m funny. Or smart. Or kind. Or that I have the tidiest junk drawer you have ever seen. Or that my resting heart rate is perfect. Or so amazing at remembering phone numbers from friends I had in elementary school. I will accept all of those compliments with a smile. But tell me that I look like I have lost weight? Yuck.

I think maybe these ideas are wrapped up in historical context. For so long, women were considered to be accessories. We were the special something on an outfit that really pulls it all together. The polka-dots on the socks that match the stripes in the tie. We were part of the package that helped define a man’s success. The house. The white picket fence. The 2.5 kids. And the pretty, little wife. But my life is bigger than that. I am no one’s accessory. I am my own being, with an education, a career, a bank account, and bodily autonomy.

Another reason I’m uncomfortable with these comments is because of the body image issues I have fought so heard to release. Most days I feel okay living inside this body. But every so often, something happens to ruin my day or week or month. Something as simple as being weighed at a medical appointment. Or seeing a really unflattering photo of myself. Or forgetting not to dry my favorite jeans so they’re snug the next time I wear them. I just want to exist in my body and give it grace. I don’t want to examine it or change it or discuss it.

And I don’t want you to, either. 🖤