Beauty.
As mental health awareness month draws to a close, I wanted to talk to you about one topic in particular that often plagues my negative self-speak and something that I am trying to be gentler with myself about. Beauty. 
I’ve been reflecting on this topic because I recently went to an event called Queer Sacred Sundays, run by a couple of favourites at peoplelikeusretreats. I went because I’ve been on a journey with my own self-discovery over the last few years which has led me to many answers and also prompted more questions. This event was organised so that queer people in London could come together in a totally safe space, with like minded souls, practice yoga & self-discovery while also finding a connection with spirituality and community.
Now I’ll be honest. Until I saw this event and asked myself whether I should go, I may not have realised that I identified as queer. You’d be forgiven for assuming I’m straight, but I’ve been on a baby-step process for a couple of years with my sexuality and identity. I now know that I can and do connect sexually with more people than just hetero cis-men. However, when I look to romantic partners I default back to what feels familiar - a cis-man. I’ve been trying to challenge myself to understand if that’s because I haven’t yet connected with another kind of person because I’m closed off to the experience, or if it genuinely doesn’t align with my preferences. Which has been a somewhat confronting experience as I ‘test out’ what feels right to me. But, I felt that whatever percentage I do identify as queer was enough to feel accepted in this kind of space. Plus they promised not to check our ‘queer passports’ on the door, so I knew it would be welcoming.
Me… at a different peoplelikeus retreat
The theme of the day was beauty. We were firstly guided through a powerful yoga flow while we connected to our bodies and our breath and shook off some initial apprehension and daily stress. As we got sweatier, we also grew stronger and more confident as a group. Which allowed us to feel like some barriers had been broken down, ready for a more vulnerable portion of the afternoon.
Calypso had us create a circle, close our eyes and listen to her as she told us a story about beauty, and her connection to it since being a young girl. Nat provided sounds of crystal bowls as we closed our eyes, settled our breathing and listened to Calypso. She tells us how as one of the only black children in her community growing up, she grew up wanting to look like her friends. Believing that she would be able to catch their beauty if she spent enough time trying. She would run to the water fountain after her friends had drunk from it, in an effort to catch their beauty. She talked about how silly she had felt recalling this naive childish dream to catch the beauty of her friends. It was only years later, meeting Nat and being introduced to her friends that Calypso realised that you actually can catch beauty. Meeting souls who radiate energy, positivity, gentleness and kindness. Understanding that beauty is a feeling and an energy, not a physical appearance. And that yes, by surrounding yourself with love and warmth you too can become more loving and warm.
It was a lovely sentiment and one I totally agree with, despite the Oxford Dictionary describing beauty as: ‘a combination of qualities, such as shape, colour, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight.’ Beauty is clearly an energy, a feeling that we can absorb from radiant people.
We all spent some time talking to a neighbour about our relationship to beauty and its place in our lives. We then opened up to the room (if we wanted to) to talk about what had come up for us today. It was a very raw and emotional sharing circle. I’m a huge empath and even though the experiences I was listening to were very different lived experiences to my own, they also touched on similarities that I found hard to ignore in myself.
yin and yang represents duality - day/night, cold/warmth, earth/sky
One person shared about transitioning from female to male, and wanting to honour and reclaim the word beauty in a more masculine sense. Often a term used to describe women and girls, they were challenging themselves to understand how they could identify as beautiful, while still presenting as male. They encouraged themselves to embrace a softer side of masculinity in an effort to feel beautiful.
I’ve since pondered this question and spoken to friends about the idea of beauty within gender roles. For me, I tend to dress in a mix of women’s and men’s clothing. I sometimes embrace femininity in my clothing choices, however, I often find myself feeling a little bit out of place if my outfit isn’t also one that gives the impression of strength. I’m not very good at dressing in frills or anything quaint and I recoil somewhat at the expectation of women and girls having to dress ‘cute’. I often change my outfit 3 times before leaving the house (hello, anxiety) if I feel ‘too girly’. And, I often really enjoy wearing men’s clothing. I would shop for clothes in the men’s section and my ex would borrow my clothes. I like androgynous looks and feel suitably strong when wearing them. However, as a single woman I’ve caught myself changing out of these clothes ‘just in case’ I met an interesting single guy or girl, worrying that my androgynous looks weren’t giving enough sex appeal. Which is also a deeper issue that I’ve been working to address - why is sexual validation so important to me?
Toxic 90s and 00s headlines that damaged countless people’s relationship to their bodies
I’m someone whose sense of self worth is directly related to how I feel about my body at the time. For example, (trigger warning: these are my unfiltered thoughts, even though I know I should be kinder to myself) right now I am about 2 kgs heavier than I like to be - and I can see and feel the 2 kgs all over my body. My waist is slightly larger than usual, my boobs have gotten bigger and my legs feel a bit chunkier. I mentally beat myself up for indulging in dessert when I feel like this and I find myself checking my weight each morning. It’s also conveniently swimsuit season so I think the added pressure of extra weight + visibility is what has me feeling anxious and ashamed of my body.
I’m not the only 90s baby who struggles with body confidence, self-worth and dysmorphia. We grew up in an incredibly weight conscious era, with tabloids constantly body shaming women on beaches, noting their weight gain or ‘miraculous’ bounce backs after pregnancy or weight loss. The number of deliberately unflattering angles of women’s cellulite that I either willingly or unwillingly consumed in my youth is staggering.
I don’t know about you, but it often felt like the tabloid writers also sometimes lived in my house. My dad has always been, or at least for as long as I can remember obsessed with body weight - his own, and ours. I grew up with a cut out from an article with the headline ‘Top 10 worst foods to eat for weight gain’ pinned to our kitchen bulletin board. We weren’t allowed to eat crisps, sweets, or chocolate. By the time I was old enough to buy these things for myself, I then struggled with moderation. My weight would fluctuate during and post puberty and invariably the times that my weight would drop would be after negative comments from my father such as ‘your Mother was skinnier than you are now when I first met her’ or ‘are you sure you want that much food?’
I would go through dramatic weight loss - think 1 stone in a week - after these kinds of comments. I would ‘bounce back’... and guess what… suddenly I had a lot of both male and female attention. The male attention felt great. The female attention, not always. I got stuck in a negative to positive feedback loop every time my weight changed. In my twenties I also morphed shape a few times. Gaining weight in long term relationships, and then shifting it all post-breakup. This is the longest I’ve been single since my early twenties and my weight has remained consistent throughout. I am 2kgs heavier than I’d like to be, and I would like to lose it. But this time my father doesn’t need to say anything to me about it, his voice lives rent free in my head every time I look at my body in the mirror. I’ve been trying to quiet this voice for years, and I try and enforce my body positivity with positive affirmations of strength and beauty. I’ve been on a journey of becoming more confident in displaying my body, realising how wonderfully amazing our bodies are just for keeping us alive, and how under appreciated they are. But some days, I can’t fake confidence and just want to hide my body under as many drapy layers as possible.
It doesn’t help that I have always had large boobs. I’ve always felt the male gaze on me as I walk down the street. Even when I try to hide in loose clothes, the bounce under my top gives me away. I’ve felt uncomfortable because of someone’s stares more times than I can count. And I’ve seen people looking me up and down before they look me in the eyes. I think this might be why I started trying to dress in clothes that made me feel strong. Not only a protective armour, but also a ‘don’t mess with me’ attitude that would surely scare off pervy men…?
This is something that I feel as a woman, and felt as a girl growing up. I wonder how transferable these feelings are to the men in our lives? Granted they might not have grown up feeling the effects of body-shaming tabloids, but I know many men who proudly toe a line between masculinity and femininity, strength and softness. However, I probably know more men that don’t toe this line. More men that aren’t able to articulate nuance and depth of feeling with ease. They might not have grown up with body shaming culture, but they did grow up with ‘man up’ culture and avoidance culture. No wonder suicide rates are higher in men. They were never taught to embrace their softness, and see that as a strength too.
It really resonated with me, this person’s quandary about how to embrace beauty in their male form. As I’ve only experienced the opposite side of things and often battled with how much strength to bring into my softness. In fact, for a very long time I was outwardly presenting as a relatively cold person. Resting bitch face was a staple Mon look for years. [Actually a defence mechanism after years of bullying]. It’s only since my mid-twenties that I embraced more softness into my general demeanour, started trusting people more, and while occasionally I might be guilty of resting bitch face these days, it’s no longer deliberate, and more rare. Our binary definitions of beauty vs strength and masculinity vs femininity are toxic and I really enjoy spending time with people who embrace both parts of themselves. Something that the queer community has excelled in.
I remember not really understanding cross-dressing or drag when I was a child. I remember headlines of outed family men who were wrapped up in scandal because their cross dressing habits had been exposed. I suppose the tabloid shame cycle existed for men in this way, potentially suppressing the urge in many young boys and men to the point of annihilating it. Suppressing their freedom of expression with toxic gossip headlines. But also, in effect suppressing any understanding from people like me or you. It’s only as I’ve gotten older and I’ve explored and challenged my perceptions that I’ve grown to be more understanding… Having to unlearn bias that was learnt without my willing participation.
I think about my parents, and whether they have any queer friends, and I know that they don’t. Or at least, they don’t have any publicly queer friends. I don’t think conversations around beauty, sexuality or exploration are conversations my parents have ever had with their friends. I feel a real sadness for them that they haven’t been able to experience a life with more understanding, more nuance and more openness. I grew up in a household where the only definition of beauty related to your weight. I think that maybe the reason sexual/bodily validation is so important to me is because I never felt validated by any other metric growing up. No wonder that physical touch is my love language.
For any queers, or queer curious people in London, I highly recommend getting yourself down to the next Queer Sacred Sunday event. I feel so grateful to surround myself with queer people. My depths of understanding have exploded, the quality of my friendships has increased, the sense of safety and belonging I feel in this community bears a massive comparison to the safety I felt at home as a child.
But for everyone, remember that beauty is infectious, and it is obvious. Find your people. Beautiful energy breeds beautiful energy and I encourage you all to invite some softness and strength into your life and to challenge your own personal feelings around beauty and what it means to you. Remember, be gentle with yourself - so much of what we know, we learnt through other people’s biases and many of the toxic cultural cycles that may or may not have been since retired will inevitably have had a lasting impact on you. It takes time and energy to challenge your own beliefs and stop the cycles of negative self-speak… but, I encourage you to start now. We could all stand to be a little gentler with ourselves.
Written by Monica Innes - May 2024
