TikTok, with its endless face filters and barrage of dollesque teenagers, seems unlikely to offer reassuring content to other impressionable teenagers about their physique, such as myself. Yet, during a recent spiral down my For You Page, the algorithm whisked me an illuminating,wholesome TikTok that prodded me to re-examine my understanding of pursuing beauty.
Personal experiences with self-objectification
I don’t remember at which age I became much more conscious of how I appeared to the world. I have been lucky to be blessed with a high metabolism and have been skinny since I was a child. Relatives have always marvelled, but it has indoctrinated me into subconsciously feeling that “thinness” is a merit-worthy status.
I suspect I developed the habit of self-objectification after using Instagram, commencing my patronage at the budding age of 10. According to a research paper, “self-objectification occurs when the objectifying gaze is turned inward, such that women view themselves through the perspective of an observer and engage in chronic self-surveillance”.
I count myself lucky that I have a fair relationship with my body, but sometimes I do get irked at my imperfections in pictures, staring at them long enough until my face feels ugly. My brain grudges: what if my forehead were less tall, what if my nose was smaller, what if my face were less round… I had always thought that the pursuit of beauty was for beauty in itself, and the praise of others. I did not consider a darker rationale.
The TikTok’s thesis
Being thin has been a beauty ideal for as long as any woman can remember… until they cannot. This ideal had only been sprung onto women in the 19th century, where the image of the thin woman became socially championed. This physique was associated with weakness and frailty, embodying their subservience to their husbands in the domestic landscape.
As women conform to this beloved image, amongst many others borne in the murky shadows of history, they do not actually become beautiful. Beauty, after all, is not a monolithic construct. For example, I find multiple celebrities beautiful. We all probably have one or more celebrity crushes, and even if they have similarities, they do not look the same. As women conform to this beloved image, they become acceptable to society. The two seem synonymous, but what is acceptable is not necessarily beautiful, and vice versa.
Thus, when someone wants to be “beautiful”, they actually desire the power that accompanies this status. Controversially, they might even want to be superior, as “beauty” cannot exist without its other twin. The power of being “beautiful” is real to some extent: this is supported by much anecdotal evidence and even research papers online discussing pretty privilege - jobs come easier, people are much more friendly, and so on. Such “beauty” buys one attention from the people around them, and the favour and good will of others. In most cases, we internalise these expectations of being “beautiful”: we perceive that beauty enhances our own identity, objectifying ourselves.
Personally, I have also found appearances to be an accessible and firstmost medium of interaction and judgment by others – all the more increasing the need to be “beautiful”. The social metric for beauty is a convenient benchmark, offering effective judgment for ourselves and others without investing too much time.
So what?
It is a lie to say one TikTok changed my life. Thankfully, it made me more aware of my self-perception and spurred me to write this article. Nonetheless, I am still chained by beauty standards. Perhaps it is both the biological and the societal – it has been proven that humans are always captivated by beauty. I also acknowledge that I am conditioned by society’s whims. These chains manifest in my passion for my skincare routine, and my tendency to relish any compliments I receive.
However, I am trying to give beauty less importance in my pursuit of self-development, compared to other facets of my identity. We should not value judgments on appearance highly, because logically speaking, we should not care about what is not within our control. And bar plastic surgery, we have done nothing to get these natural features, but simply, be born in a certain family, of a certain ethnicity and genealogy. I do not disregard personal grooming. Refinements to our appearance such as maintaining hygiene is essential. Also, for those of us that have cultivated a slick sense of fashion, makeup skills, or devoted ourselves to a fitness routine, these do count towards our appearance. However, rather than being born with them, we have worked for them.
In contrast, we should pay more attention to our disposition and our skills. It is more likely that we have put in time, effort and undergone tribulation to hone our disposition, than it is to just be born with these inclinations. It is even likelier that we have spent days and months training in certain abilities like sports, arts, or even our academics, to achieve excellence in them. I do not deny the component of genes in characters or skill sets. Yet, relative to physical appearance, they require an incredibly greater and tedious exercise of free will.
That settles a ground for self-acceptance, but reasoning alone cannot materialize self-acceptance. I found a practical solution, which is to be grateful for the body’s capabilities, more than its facade. Personally, I am grateful to be able-bodied. Additionally, I appreciate that my body’s immune system can ward off danger, keeping me healthy and alive. With the privilege of youth and genetic lottery, I sometimes take these for granted, although they really could leave me at any time.
My gratitude grew deeper roots when I exercised. More specifically, when I did yoga. During yoga sessions (I highly recommend Yoga with Adriene for follow along tutorials!), I slow down and melt into the asanas (yoga poses). I had never noticed the intricacy of myself until doing seated yoga asanas, with one in which I stretched to touch my toes. In this collapse into myself, I watched my skin and noticed the extremely tiny, thin lines that made up its texture. (I can’t find the word for those lines - I am evidently not a Bio student.) In the peaceful moments of yoga, I felt complete and awash with a quiet wonder towards my body. It has served me seventeen years well.
That TikTok has unexpectedly sparked a reconsideration of my desire to be “beautiful”, and caused me to lament the state of impressionable teenagers, myself included. My heart goes out to any reader who has weathered a tough relationship with themselves, because as another human, I know how it is like to look at yourself in the front-facing camera or the mirror, and feel disgust, or dispassion. Beauty standards, unfortunately, will probably persist like an undying cockroach. We do not have to be tyrannized - we should do a service to ourselves by loving and appreciating ourselves as we are.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Calogero, R. M., Tantleff-Dunn, S., & Thompson, J. K. (Eds.). (2011). Self-objectification in women: Causes, consequences, and counteractions. American Psychological Association. https://doi.org/10.1037/12304-000
*Article contributed by an anonymous author.
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