This post pairs well with my previous post ‘The Body‘.
Who benefits from you hating your body? Consider how the beauty, diet, and medical industries profit from your self-doubt.
I enjoy makeup, and all that fun stuff but I can’t help but think about how the beauty industry heavily makes money from insecurities. I’m a 32 year old woman, I expect things that mention eliminating wrinkles to be marketed towards me. Although I’ve noticed that bright packaging and colorful ingredients are done to bring in a younger audience. I’ve seen the young girls in Ulta hovering over “anti-aging” serums with their friends. Hands full of products that claim to make skin tighter and firmer.Anti-aging serums are a complete sham by the way. You will age. No beauty store has the fountain of youth in their break room.
Capitalism wins when we hate our bodies.
“Capitalism is deadly.”
AI is another invention that causes self-doubt. AI makes us question ourselves and the world around us. AI influencers, AI music, AI art, AI porn. It’s becoming hard to tell what’s real. There is no AI used in my writing or my digital creation.
Trace the lineage of your body. What ancestral stories are written in your curves, your features, your movements? Which parts of you carry the resilience of those who came before?
My legs are strong as fuck. As in there have been many a time where my brain gave out, and the legs just kept pushing. The Roots Festival was surely one of those times. A hill there and a hill here makes for a tired Lucas. But my legs don’t stop moving. Just how my arms don’t give out when I’m carrying in the groceries. Or when I’m lugging cases of water out of my car.
My legs, arms, and back carry the resilience of those that came before. Strength is a word that keeps coming up when thinking about this section. Power. Divinity.
How have you been conditioned to view your body as something that needs fixing rather than something to be celebrated?
Growing up I was a chubby shy kid. My shyness wasn’t much of something to be bullied on, but my weight was (as in folks picked on me mostly for that, I thought I was fine). My mother was also the kind to discuss dieting and buy into ways to lose weight. This trickled down to me and I remember drinking a dietary supplement that cut my appetite. Dieting just came off as something women were supposed to do. Between ANTM, the Victoria secret fashion show, and this importance on not being fat I soon found myself with an eating disorder. Fatphobia was running rampant in the early 2000s. Anyone who didn’t have a visible rib cage and collar bones was considered fat.
Now in 2026, not much has changed with the fixation on counting calories and dietary supplements via GLP-1’s.
What would it mean to see your body as more than its productivity or appearance – as a site of joy, pleasure, and radical self-determination?
For me that means upholding rest as much as movement. I enjoy cardio, weights, pole dancing, and pilates buuutt I don’t always stretch before and/or after. Although! Sunday, my area was blessed with a thunderstorm. I cleaned my space, read a new book, opened the windows before lighting the palm santo, and ran myself a hot bubble bath. A bubble bath with epsom salt. I rinsed my body after and proceeded to moisturized with shea butter. Instead of walking around naked I dug in my ottoman for a bright Laina Rauma set to adorn my body.
At this point the storm was starting. Lightening, heavy rain, and thunder. I turned off all the lights in my home with only a candle illuminating the living room. For a split second I thought about walking onto my balcony in nothing but my bralette and thong. Although I doubt anyone would be looking up given the downpour, I went against it. I crave the feel of raindrops on my skin.
In place of that I pulled out my yoga mat. Set it up by my open balcony door. Stretched through my body. Opened my hips. Spent some time in child’s pose. Spent time talking to myself and my ancestors. This is what it means for me to see my body as more than productivity. To sit with my body. To sit with my spirit. This moment of self-love felt pretty radical. I thought about taking some photos, but this was just time for me. Trust, I was all up in that mirror.
This low key feels like being back in grad school. Going on Canva and responding to discussion questions. Only I’m choosing this and going at my own pace. Also, you’re here with me. Please feel free to answer a few or all questions in the comments. I would love to read your thoughts.
Thank you for reading and being here with me, and I’ll see yah next time💕
Lingerie Slayer 
Thoughts?