My self-image changes with the phases of the moon, figuratively speaking. Some days I’m feelin’ good, some days, I feel old and fat.
Yep, I am now. I wasn’t always.
I was smaller than most until I had a growth spurt at 13, where I finally reached the low side of average and slowly grew over the next couple of years until I was right in the middle of the bell curve. That had a big effect on how I related to other males in my teens. It didn’t help that while I was in good shape I didn’t do conventional team sports, so wasn’t regarded as an athlete.
I had moderately bad acne starting at around 12–13 years old and it didn’t really clear up until my 20s. I was very self-conscious of it.
In my teens I judged my looks and build by the best examples around me, so was disappointed in my own. Looking back at pictures when I was on the swim team, I was actually in darn good shape and had a good build. If I knew then what I know now about fitness, I could have been in awesome shape. That attitude of undervaluing myself persisted for quite a while.
I got fat a few years back and after faffing about for a bit trying to avoid the real problem I did something about it. In part because of positive changes as a direct result of things I did, and also because of mental maturity, I feel like I have more control over my body and my image than I used to. I’m only in my mid-thirties now, so I’m very glad that I both changed my outlook and my habits before age made things more difficult. You’re never too old to start working out, but I’m looking forward to being an old fart who is in good enough shape to beat 75% of the young guys out there at just about anything you can think of, rather than being an old fart struggling to get back in shape because my doctor told me I should.
In truth, Facebook has made me realize that I’m aging better than some of my peers. While my career is meh, I look great compared to some of the people I went to high school with 
And the most positive thing about that is that I know that some of that is not just the luck of the genetic draw, but because I did something about it.
I do still hate my stubby fingers (thanks dad :mad:) and my slightly oversized nose (I blame my grandparents for that one, prominent schnozzes on both sides there). The rest of me is faring pretty well, though.
By the way, dude, scars are cool. Chicks dig scars, especially when you can point to them and say, “I was mauled by a lion. And survived.” That’s manly. Best I’ve got in that area are some scars on my fists, a broken nose that wasn’t set completely straight, and a few assorted others that could be interpreted as being acquired in misadventures instead of clumsiness — as many of them actually were.
I’m definitely comfortable in my own skin, I’m not a fan of walking around shirtless or naked or anything like that, but I don’t look at myself in the mirror and wince. I work out much more than the average person and at 33 I think I’m nicely muscular and in overall very good shape, but there are the inevitable signs of age appearing, among other things.
I have serious self-image issues, so I’m going to go with ‘‘no.’’ I know, cognitively, that I’m not hideous, and most of the time when I leave the house I feel at least like I’m looking ‘‘cute,’’ but any time I’m facing myself in the privacy of my own home, I’m somewhat repulsed by what I see. It’s really becoming a problem. It’s on my list of things to work on right after I get through this rough patch.
I’m okay with it, but I am about 15 pounds overweight (all gained in 3 months too…argh) and I have gapped teeth, which bugs me. But I think I look fairly average. My head is also very large…just a big skull. We measured it when I was in grade six, and I had the biggest head in the classroom. A dubious honor…I also have puffy cheeks which doesn’t help the big head problem. Someone used to call me the cheshire cat. Frustrating.
But hey just more brain right?
Yeah. At 28, I weigh the same as when I graduated high school, and that’s after two kids. Things aren’t as firm as they used to be, and I have stretch marks on my stomach, hips, thighs, butt, and breasts, but they just remind me that my body can do amazing things. I do need to tone up though. I don’t have pretty hands or feet, and my nails always break, but I manage.
I have big pores, dark circles under my eyes, a gap between my front teeth, and a slightly big and crooked-ish nose, but I’ve accepted that. None of it is going to change, unless I’m willing to spend some big bucks, but I’m not. My hair used to be blonde, but has gotten darker and darker over the years. I haven’t been willing to change that yet, but it’s on the agenda for this weekend.
So I’ve worked to change what I can and learned to accept what I can’t. It doesn’t hurt that I was recently described as “smokin’ hot” by someone who isn’t required by marriage to say that. Frankly, I would never use that phrase in reference to myself, but it sure did make my day!
I’m okay with my body. I’m not in the best shape of my life - ever since grad school I’ve been rather lax about exercising - but not the worst either. It’s silly, but having a boyfriend that tells me every day how lovely I am does wonders for my self esteem, even though I know his glasses are more than a little rose tinted. 
Very cool! And I’m sure very painful. Sorry about your leg and your pants, but that’s a pretty awesome story, and is way cooler than the marks I have.
*- Hey, you, what happened to your thigh?
- I, um, bumped into a table in the dark.*
Holy crap, I am SO not comfortable in my own body. I constantly, totally think I am too fat. It makes me nuts! I am five feet, nine inches and 117 pounds and I still think I am fat.
Rationally I know I am not fat but try to tell my emotional self that! :eek:
I guess I have to say no. (I know I mention this too often, but I can’t answer without mentioning it…) Due to many surgeries, my upper body is badly scarred. I would not take my shirt off in public and I worry that the next woman that I am with will be freaked out and never sleep with me again.
Alas, there is nothing that can be done about it, so I just have to live with it.
(After the edit)
You are *definitely *not fat!
Thank you, sweetie!
Oh, whoops, thought you were a guy. Still doesn’t matter, scars are interesting. Perhaps the most interesting thing about them is that they show that you’re the kind of person who would do the kind of things that would get you those scars. The only downside to attractiveness might be that some guys would be intimidated because you’re more adventurous than they are. Those kind of guys are pretty useless though.
I’m pretty comfortable in my body. I’m currently in the best shape of my life. I used to have a gym aversion because I thought it was just for hardcore bodybuilders, but now I enjoy trying to get as strong and fit as I can. Every time I increase my weights I think “this is the strongest I’ve ever been” and it’s pretty thrilling.
My body isn’t perfect - I scar easily and have 5+ year old cat scratches on my arms and decade old scars on my legs, and I really wish my legs were longer. But I love my shape and how defined my muscles are. I love how I practically hum with energy, and how I ache after I try a new workout. I’m so much prouder of my body now that I have to really work for it than I was when I was younger and being slim came effortlessly.
I’m having one of those days today.
I don’t think my face is all that bad, but I’m currently at my highest weight ever and I’m really not comfortable with it. I’m depressed and in a bad job on a bad shift that makes it really hard to eat healthy foods and exercise. I work 1:45 pm - 10:15 pm. I don’t like my job so I don’t like to get up early (because I spend the day thinking, “crap, I have work soon!”). Because of this I end up mainly eating cafeteria food and restaurant food.
My hair and eyes are pretty. A lot of people are self-conscious about their noses, but my nose is cute at best, nondescript at worst - I literally can’t find one thing to hate about it.
My teeth are horribly crooked and my skin breaks out a lot.
Overall no, I’m not comfortable with how I look at all, though. And I am embarrassed to admit this, but I’m admitting it anyway… it makes me quite self-conscious that my boyfriend is gorgeous and lots of other girls like him. :o