Part 1: The Naked Truth About Dysmorphia: Recognizing and Naming the Struggle

Awareness Is the First Step

Sometimes, the hardest person to face is ourselves. For me, this wasn’t in front of my partner or out in the world—it was in the quiet moments with a mirror. I wasn’t avoiding judgment from others; I was my own harshest critic. The mirror reflected back not just my physical self but a version of me I struggled to accept. Avoiding it felt easier than confronting what I saw.

Last night, as I shared the introduction to this series with my cousin, she gave me some feedback that was both valuable and thought-provoking. She mentioned that discussing dysmorphia is like opening Pandora’s box for some readers and asked if I was prepared to handle such consequences. While she appreciated the disclaimer at the end of the blog, her perspective as someone in the healthcare field made her worry that I might be venturing into deep waters. She pointed out that many in my audience are accustomed to reading about fashion, trends, and lifestyle topics, and some may not even be aware of my expertise as an image coach because it’s something I’ve been very private about.

Imagine all of that running through my mind late at night—I didn’t sleep at all. But I want to be transparent with you: I’m sharing this series from my heart, rooted in my own experiences, and with the genuine intention to create awareness. I’m also including resources to guide anyone who might be going through dysmorphia. My goal is not to replace professional advice but to open a conversation and share the naked truth from my perspective as an image coach. Before posting Part 1, I wanted to share this with you out of the utmost respect for my audience. I believe it’s my responsibility to be thoughtful about the information I share.

Growing Up and Facing the Mirror

Growing up, I never had the “perfect body” ingrained in my head. In my family, I was “the skinny one,” and that came with its own identity. But even that perception didn’t shield me from moments of profound disconnect with my body. One moment stands out vividly: after giving birth to my eldest daughter, I stood in front of a full-length mirror in my room. My body had changed. My once-small frame now held large, heavy breasts I’d never known before. I grabbed them, feeling their weight, and for the first time in my life, I genuinely disliked my body. It wasn’t about societal expectations or anyone else’s opinion. It was me, grappling with the unfamiliar, hormonal or not.

Client Stories: Reflecting Their Struggles

One client shared how she avoided mirrors completely after her divorce. For her, it wasn’t just about her body but the emotions tied to her reflection. “When I looked in the mirror, all I could see was failure,” she said. The lines on her face and the weight she had gained became symbols of her emotional scars, making it hard to reconnect with herself.

Another client confided in me that she felt deeply ashamed of her stretch marks after having her first child. She described scrolling through social media and comparing her postpartum body to influencers who seemed to bounce back effortlessly. “I felt like my body betrayed me,” she said, expressing how these feelings made her withdraw from social activities and intimacy.

These stories, like my own, highlight that dysmorphia doesn’t discriminate. It’s not about whether others see us as beautiful or acceptable; it’s about the personal battles we face when the mirror becomes our harshest critic.

The Power of Clothes vs. Naked Vulnerability

Clothes have a unique power to make us feel confident, in control, and even invincible. They allow us to curate our image and present a version of ourselves that aligns with how we want to be seen. One client told me how her tailored suits made her feel like she could conquer any room. “It’s like putting on armor,” she said. But here’s the truth I always tell my clients: clothes don’t have life—we give them life. The power we feel when we wear them comes from us, not the fabric or design. We are the ones who breathe meaning and confidence into what we wear.

But when the clothes come off, that power can vanish. Standing naked, without the carefully chosen outfit to define us, we can feel exposed and vulnerable. For many of us, it’s in these moments that the harshest self-judgments arise. This stark contrast between feeling empowered when dressed and powerless when undressed is a significant part of why nakedness can feel so challenging.

What Is Dysmorphia?

At its core, dysmorphia is a distorted way of seeing yourself. It’s more than just having insecurities or not liking certain features. It’s a fixation on perceived flaws that often go unnoticed by others but feel magnified in your own mind. Dysmorphia isn’t exclusive to one body type, gender, or age. It’s a mental health condition that can affect anyone.

For me, the issue wasn’t weight—even after having children. It was about the loss of familiarity with my own body. It felt like my reflection was no longer mine, and the disconnection was unsettling. This experience taught me that dysmorphia isn’t always tied to societal beauty standards; sometimes, it’s about our internal battles.

Recognizing the Signs

Dysmorphia can manifest in different ways. Here are some signs that resonate with my experience and that of many clients I’ve worked with:

1. Avoiding Photos: You rarely appear in pictures, and if you do, you’re hypercritical of how you look.

2. Fixating on Specific Features: You’re preoccupied with one part of your body, like your stomach, skin, or arms, even if others don’t notice.

3. Mirror Avoidance or Obsession: You either avoid looking at yourself in mirrors or spend excessive time scrutinizing your reflection.

4. Comparing Yourself to Others: Whether online or in person, you constantly measure yourself against others and always feel like you fall short.

5. Clothed vs. Naked Confidence: You feel great in your favorite outfit but struggle to feel the same when undressed.

If any of these resonate with you, it’s okay to acknowledge them. Awareness doesn’t mean you’re broken—it means you’re taking the first step toward understanding and healing.

Naming the Struggle

Giving a name to what you’re experiencing can be liberating. When I realized I was dealing with dysmorphia, it felt like a weight had been lifted. It allowed me to approach the issue with curiosity rather than judgment. Recognizing dysmorphia doesn’t mean it will instantly go away, but it opens the door to reflection, understanding, and eventually, growth.

Why Awareness Matters

Once you can name the struggle, you can start identifying how it impacts your life. For me, it helped explain why I avoided certain situations, like group photos or even candid snapshots with friends. It gave context to the discomfort I felt when undressed and helped me see the connection between my inner thoughts and outward behaviors.

Moving Forward

The journey doesn’t stop at recognition. It’s only the beginning. Healing dysmorphia involves unlearning distorted thought patterns and replacing them with kinder, more compassionate ones. In this series, we’ll continue to unpack the layers of dysmorphia and explore strategies for reclaiming how we see ourselves—both clothed and bare.

Take a moment to reflect on your relationship with mirrors. What’s one thing you’ve told yourself about your body that you’re ready to challenge? Share your thoughts in the comments or message me privately. Let’s start this journey together.

Key Takeaway: Awareness is the first step to healing. Recognizing dysmorphia helps you name the struggle and begin understanding its impact on your life.

Written by: Carilyn Egleé

Personal Image Coach

January 14, 2025

Disclaimer: This blog is not intended to replace professional advice or treatment. If you believe you are experiencing body dysmorphia or any related condition, please seek guidance from a qualified mental health professional.