My Health Journey Started with Toxic Ideals

I’m not sure how many of you remember Kathy Smith but as an awkward teen, I used to watch her videos and follow along so that I could move with more confidence and one day “super slim down”. Growing up in the 80s and 90s I wasn’t obsessed with boys as much as I was fantasizing about looking like Kate Moss. This was before “functional fitness” and body positivity was a thing. I was chubby so I convinced myself that all my problems in life would go away if I looked like Kate. As is the human condition, I had no idea how good I had it: subcutaneous fat is in short supply these days! But I was young then and those self-deprecating beliefs dampened my self-esteem. I internalized those images and the cognitive dissonance that I saw reflected in the mirror as a personal failure. And it’s no wonder I developed an eating disorder by the time I was in grade 9. Now, when I think about how much time children and teens spend on social media and the pervasive sharing and exchanging of images, I wonder how it shapes their self-image, self-esteem, eating habits and interpersonal relationships. I also wonder how it shapes the formation and development of their possible/future selves.

The Illusion of 90’s Freedom

The 80s and 90s promised us total freedom. The Berlin Wall fell, global interconnectedness was exploding, and early internet tech promised to disrupt traditional media. For women, this era promised a new kind of "liberation" beyond the traditional housewife. While the experience of women of colour and the poor was largely excluded from this discourse, it came with a trap: the "Superwoman Syndrome." Women were suddenly expected to work flawlessly both in and out of the home. This socio-political burden robbed many of our health, trading genuine freedom to create a real pardigm shift for a new, exhausting standard of perfection.

Healing my relationship with food required deep courage and careful reflection. While I finally developed a healthy balance in my thirties, quiet echoes of the past remain. Before a workout, a small voice still questions the science of fueling my workouts. Somewhere in my youth, I internalized the rule that food is a reward to be earned only after training. Fasting became a way to virtue-signal my willpower, and ignoring my hunger was a measure of strength. But it didn't make me strong; it depleted me, making me physically smaller and less capable of showing up fully. I’m not going to pretend that all my problems stemmed from my deep seated insecurites with my body. I am highlighting how, for some time, I used food as a reward and punishment tool and my body as a measure of self worth.

The Semiglutide Shortcut

The obsession with thinness is back in a big way. In less than 5 years, GLP-1 prescriptions are projected to be in the hands of over 30 million Americans. What was once a medication for diabetes is now considered an effective weight loss tool. Semaglutide mimics the natural GLP-1 hormone that is released in the stomach after eating. It signals satiety in the brain so cravings are curbed. It also slows down digestion and blunts flavour perception. Companies like Nestlé are modifying their food recipes and adding more spices to enhance flavour. GLP-1 acts on three main systems in the body: the brain, the stomach and the pancreas. As such, it is highly effective for weight loss. Unfortunately, it doesn’t come without side effects, including pancreatitis (severe swelling of the pancreas), which leads to stomach pain. Because it slows food movement, it can cause stomach paralysis (gastroparesis) and a more common side effect, nausea and vomiting. GLP1s clip hunger cues, appetite and taste. Rather than making the hard but conscious lifestyle choices that require a measured approach, eliminating processed foods and sugar, we are turning to pharmaceuticals as a quick fix. It’s like we woke up in an alternate or parallel universe where we not only glorify anorexia, we have provided a pill to mimic its symptoms.

The Pain of Exclusion

We are sitting at a crossroads: with information and AI bleeding into every aspect of our lives, we are more intellectually savvy but emotionally stunted, speaking the language of empathy but unable to practice it with ourselves, our communities, or the planet. More importantly, smartphones and image consciousness have made us hyper-aware of how we look, to the point that we as a society are spending billions on cosmetic procedures to enhance our appearance. Body hair, yellowed teeth and wrinkles are abnormal. Sagging skin has a name: resting bitch face. There’s even new software now that can detect your features for ‘hidden micro-expressions’ or level of RBF. It is no wonder we are obsessed with physical optimization; our reptilian brain relies on ‘thin-slicing’ to judge whether someone is trustworthy and competent. This evolved trait helped us navigate social interactions and assess potential threats. Despite our biased assessments being largely built upon superficial criteria and stereotypes attractiveness skews more positively across the board. Physically attractive people experience less social exclusion, and since our brains are wired to detect social rejection equal to a physical injury, we will continue seeking aesthetic perfection as long as it secures a place for us socially.

In today’s hypersexualized culture, there is also a pervasive idea that you “shouldn’t be having sex” unless you look like a porn star. There’s an irony to this: it’s no longer about how alive or healthy you might feel; it’s about how you look—an extrinsic mask or performance given to an intrinsically human experience. The thing about sex is that “looking hot” does not equal good sex. One isn’t predictive of or influenced by the other. In sum, they are not linked. Good sex is inherently messy, funny, and full of genuine feeling. Yet, by chasing an abstract, airbrushed ideal, we have created a culture of desensitized waifs where food has no taste, and bodies are too numb to feel.

Choosing a Different Path

When people compliment women for looking "young for their age," I feel a mix of relief and despair. I feel relief that we have the technology and information to make better choices about how we age. But I feel despair that deep-seated ageism persists. We continue to equate beauty and health with youth, even as our populations grow older.

My hope is that as we age collectively, we will finally redefine what "healthy aging" actually looks like. But we still have a long way to go to overcome our primal need for validation, our avoidance of accountability and the double standards that women, especially, face across all cultures. In the meantime, we can choose a different path. We can make decisions that embrace laugh lines, grey hair, and prioritizing self-compassion that comes from a fully embodied, connected life well lived-full of feels.

__________________________

Sources:

Boutin, C. (2006, August 22). Snap judgments decide a face's character, psychologist finds. Princeton University.

Givens, D. B. (2002), Facial expression, Center for Nonverbal Studies.

McKinsey & Company. (2025, May 29). The future of wellness trends Survey 2025. https://www.mckinsey.com/industries/consumer-packaged-goods/our-insights/future-of-wellness-trends

Panksepp, J. (2003). Neuroscience: Feeling the pain of social loss. Science, 302(5643), 237–239. doi.org

Further Reading:

Friedan, B. (1963). The feminine mystique. W. W. Norton & Company.

Sims, S. T., & Yeager, S. (2024). Roar: Match your food and fitness to your unique female physiology for optimum performance, great health, and a strong body for life (Rev. ed.). Avery.