And the ugly duckling turned out to be ugly for a reason
July 26, 2015 11:13 PM Subscribe
When I was younger, I somehow got the message that having acne, thin hair, tendency to gain weight, being emotional-- constituted some sort of moral failing. I spent years feeling like I had to apologize for my ugly existence. Now I'm learning that those aspects of my appearance were symptoms, not reflections of the fact that I was an all-around inferior person who didn't take good care of herself. I thought I'd be glad to get a diagnosis, but instead I'm upset and not sure where to go from here.
I'm on the cusp of being diagnosed with Cushing's or PCOS. I feel down about myself. As the differential narrows, instead of experiencing relief, I find myself frustrated with how this situation serves to highlight the years I've passed, totally uncomfortable in my own body (see previous).
Now, I've had a very good life overall. But it's weird to look back and realize how much I must have limited myself in various ways because of this internalized self-loathing. In addition, I don't feel very optimistic about treatment. After this diagnosis is finalized, then what? Going on estrogen/OCPs is going to only make me gain more weight, right? I find the idea of low-carb or "paleo" emotionally exhausting (I am not a fan of the "healthier-than-thou" undertones). If I instead have Cushing's, I guess the treatment would be different, so we'll have to see about that.
Even as I'm waiting on the diagnoses, I'm getting very down on myself. The image PCOS/Cushing's conjures up-- the infertile, hirsute, balding, pimply, anxious, dysphoric female with ample abdominal fat-- is the antithesis of sexy. (Not that I care about being sexy, of course, but the fact that I had to nervously add this disclaimer speaks to my sentiments on that topic, right?) I feel like PCOS is basically my body's way of telling me, "you're too fat to function," even though I am not overweight.
Why do I feel this way? What is the missing step in my thought process that I need so that I can be more positive about my diagnosis and this whole situation?
My take on this is that this combination of suddenly being aware that my symptoms are real and have made such an impact on me over the past few years, plus the idea that treatment might not be completely effective even after the uphill climb ... makes me feel terrified that I might be "stuck" in this position such that I might instead have to work on actually confronting the self-loathing as opposed to side-stepping it via modern medicine.
I would love to hear your guidance on how to approach this in a more mature and positive way. Anecdotes would also be appreciated.
I'm on the cusp of being diagnosed with Cushing's or PCOS. I feel down about myself. As the differential narrows, instead of experiencing relief, I find myself frustrated with how this situation serves to highlight the years I've passed, totally uncomfortable in my own body (see previous).
Now, I've had a very good life overall. But it's weird to look back and realize how much I must have limited myself in various ways because of this internalized self-loathing. In addition, I don't feel very optimistic about treatment. After this diagnosis is finalized, then what? Going on estrogen/OCPs is going to only make me gain more weight, right? I find the idea of low-carb or "paleo" emotionally exhausting (I am not a fan of the "healthier-than-thou" undertones). If I instead have Cushing's, I guess the treatment would be different, so we'll have to see about that.
Even as I'm waiting on the diagnoses, I'm getting very down on myself. The image PCOS/Cushing's conjures up-- the infertile, hirsute, balding, pimply, anxious, dysphoric female with ample abdominal fat-- is the antithesis of sexy. (Not that I care about being sexy, of course, but the fact that I had to nervously add this disclaimer speaks to my sentiments on that topic, right?) I feel like PCOS is basically my body's way of telling me, "you're too fat to function," even though I am not overweight.
Why do I feel this way? What is the missing step in my thought process that I need so that I can be more positive about my diagnosis and this whole situation?
My take on this is that this combination of suddenly being aware that my symptoms are real and have made such an impact on me over the past few years, plus the idea that treatment might not be completely effective even after the uphill climb ... makes me feel terrified that I might be "stuck" in this position such that I might instead have to work on actually confronting the self-loathing as opposed to side-stepping it via modern medicine.
I would love to hear your guidance on how to approach this in a more mature and positive way. Anecdotes would also be appreciated.
This is going to seem reeeaally rambly and self-indulgent. But I am trying to help you and I do eventually get somewhere, swear to gosh.
I am trans. Growing up, I thought I could never live as a woman because I could never "pass". I am tall even for a man, and there are a dozen other reasons why nobody would ever believe I was a genetic female.
So I tried to repress, for years. It was agonizing. But what could I do? I could never blend in as a woman, let alone be pretty. I was stuck in a monster body, living a horrid lie.
Eventually I reached a point where repressing wasn't working anymore. And what I decided was that even if I couldn't look like a genetic female, and even if I could never look like the kind of girl most people thought was pretty, I could be attractive by my OWN standards.
There were plenty of people I found quite attractive, even though they were taller or fatter or older or whatever-er than what is conventionally considered attractive. Especially when you brought rock n' roll and drag into the picture. I mean, look at this page of musicians in drag. None of them look like your average cover girl, but there are some crazy sexy beasts in there. Maybe I could do that.
So I decided that I would try to be sexy by own standards, to embrace rock star androgyny and only judge myself as harshly as I'd judge others. I found that with work, I could become a creature I found kind of hot, in the right light.
And that was huge. After a lifetime of hating everything about my body, I could look in the mirror and admire myself. And wonder of wonders, some other people found me attractive too!
Perhaps you need to go through a similar process of reframing things for yourself. Try looking at yourself the way you'd look at another person. You don't sound like a cruel person, so I doubt you walk around sneering at every woman you see with thin hair and a soft tummy. Perhaps, if this was a stranger's body, you wouldn't even think she had thin hair or that she needed to lose weight. Maybe you'd think she looked just fine!
Think about the ways that somebody like you could be attractive, to you. If you could somehow meet yourself as a stranger, is there anything about the person you are that would draw you in? Celebrate and cultivate those things. If you were giving yourself advice about your looks, what would you tell you?
Try new things. Would you look really hot if you got a buzzcut and hit the gym? Would you have some nice curves if you wore a corset? Would a ginger bob wig put you over the top? Would you look a lot better if you had some nice makeup? (Probably. Almost everybody does.)
Thin hair is not objectively unattractive. Belly fat is not objectively unattractive. Zits and a weird nose and scars and moles and an eyepatch and a peg-leg, none of it disqualifies a person from ever being sexy. (You put it all together and you've maybe got some problems. But hey, perhaps you have a certain pirate chic.)
You are comparing yourself to the kind of woman you are not, and perhaps never can be. But there are many kinds of women to be. Figure out your favorite version of you, and become that person.
Also, if you have a medical situation going on, treat it and see what happens. The body you have right now might not be the body you're supposed to have. But it's the body you have now, and you should really try not to be so hard on it. We're going to die, and we have to get all the good times out of these ridiculous meatsacks that we can.
posted by Ursula Hitler at 1:17 AM on July 27, 2015 [70 favorites]
I am trans. Growing up, I thought I could never live as a woman because I could never "pass". I am tall even for a man, and there are a dozen other reasons why nobody would ever believe I was a genetic female.
So I tried to repress, for years. It was agonizing. But what could I do? I could never blend in as a woman, let alone be pretty. I was stuck in a monster body, living a horrid lie.
Eventually I reached a point where repressing wasn't working anymore. And what I decided was that even if I couldn't look like a genetic female, and even if I could never look like the kind of girl most people thought was pretty, I could be attractive by my OWN standards.
There were plenty of people I found quite attractive, even though they were taller or fatter or older or whatever-er than what is conventionally considered attractive. Especially when you brought rock n' roll and drag into the picture. I mean, look at this page of musicians in drag. None of them look like your average cover girl, but there are some crazy sexy beasts in there. Maybe I could do that.
So I decided that I would try to be sexy by own standards, to embrace rock star androgyny and only judge myself as harshly as I'd judge others. I found that with work, I could become a creature I found kind of hot, in the right light.
And that was huge. After a lifetime of hating everything about my body, I could look in the mirror and admire myself. And wonder of wonders, some other people found me attractive too!
Perhaps you need to go through a similar process of reframing things for yourself. Try looking at yourself the way you'd look at another person. You don't sound like a cruel person, so I doubt you walk around sneering at every woman you see with thin hair and a soft tummy. Perhaps, if this was a stranger's body, you wouldn't even think she had thin hair or that she needed to lose weight. Maybe you'd think she looked just fine!
Think about the ways that somebody like you could be attractive, to you. If you could somehow meet yourself as a stranger, is there anything about the person you are that would draw you in? Celebrate and cultivate those things. If you were giving yourself advice about your looks, what would you tell you?
Try new things. Would you look really hot if you got a buzzcut and hit the gym? Would you have some nice curves if you wore a corset? Would a ginger bob wig put you over the top? Would you look a lot better if you had some nice makeup? (Probably. Almost everybody does.)
Thin hair is not objectively unattractive. Belly fat is not objectively unattractive. Zits and a weird nose and scars and moles and an eyepatch and a peg-leg, none of it disqualifies a person from ever being sexy. (You put it all together and you've maybe got some problems. But hey, perhaps you have a certain pirate chic.)
You are comparing yourself to the kind of woman you are not, and perhaps never can be. But there are many kinds of women to be. Figure out your favorite version of you, and become that person.
Also, if you have a medical situation going on, treat it and see what happens. The body you have right now might not be the body you're supposed to have. But it's the body you have now, and you should really try not to be so hard on it. We're going to die, and we have to get all the good times out of these ridiculous meatsacks that we can.
posted by Ursula Hitler at 1:17 AM on July 27, 2015 [70 favorites]
'I somehow got the message that having acne, thin hair, tendency to gain weight, being emotional-- constituted some sort of moral failing.'
THERAPY, stat! It's fantastic that you're on the cusp of a proper diagnosis. Now it's time to do the work of making peace with your body, and challenging these limiting beliefs. It sounds like you're terrified of taking up space - physically, with your body, or emotionally. You need to figure out what's at the heart of these fears and these beliefs, and find ways to challenge them.
Maybe read Lindy West's tremendous piece about her wedding as a fat bride as a starting point.
I think that once you start to challenge and change your beliefs and fears about your body, you can more productively take steps towards self-care. For instance, I know next to nothing about Cushings/PCOS, but if a low-carb diet is proven to help this condition, it might be worth trying out - and you'll probably approach that from a healthier place if you're okay with yourself and your body.
Good luck!
posted by nerdfish at 1:20 AM on July 27, 2015 [2 favorites]
THERAPY, stat! It's fantastic that you're on the cusp of a proper diagnosis. Now it's time to do the work of making peace with your body, and challenging these limiting beliefs. It sounds like you're terrified of taking up space - physically, with your body, or emotionally. You need to figure out what's at the heart of these fears and these beliefs, and find ways to challenge them.
Maybe read Lindy West's tremendous piece about her wedding as a fat bride as a starting point.
I think that once you start to challenge and change your beliefs and fears about your body, you can more productively take steps towards self-care. For instance, I know next to nothing about Cushings/PCOS, but if a low-carb diet is proven to help this condition, it might be worth trying out - and you'll probably approach that from a healthier place if you're okay with yourself and your body.
Good luck!
posted by nerdfish at 1:20 AM on July 27, 2015 [2 favorites]
Even women with perfect bodies and beautiful skin hate themselves sometimes. Imagine yourself looking like Julia Roberts, but with your current life and attitudes. You don't immediately feel better or sexier, do you? Therapy and medication may be needed. Would you look at someone Cushing's and tell her any of the mean things that you tell yourself? Would you ever say any of the things that you tell yourself about yourself to anyone else? No. Because you are not a horrible person. Stop being a horrible person to you. Every day find one nice thing to say about yourself. We all have value. Even the non-models. We all have something that makes us special. Love your special. It's there. It may be buried under years of self loathing but it is there. Find it. The health issues and your appearance are secondary.
posted by myselfasme at 4:36 AM on July 27, 2015 [1 favorite]
posted by myselfasme at 4:36 AM on July 27, 2015 [1 favorite]
Waiting for a diagnosis and to start treatment is exhausting and frustrating and really really hard for anyone, whether or not they have a history of self-loathing. It can be helpful to make a space for your sadness and disappointment that can exist independent of internalizing.
Which is really hard. For a few years, I had nonstop trauma that interfered with my hygiene and ability to exercise. Plus it meant heavy medication that made me gain a lot of weight. I know those things are symptoms for me and it does help to try to see them that way. To be compassionate and neutral when possible.
I used to resist people telling me to practice mindfulness, but this year it finally made sense. I've also been dealing with chronic health issues, and it helps so much to just take a step back and look at my symptoms. How does this pain move? What does it feel like? Is it on the right or the left?
Finally, do look for a chronic illness support group. Therapy is wonderful and helpful, but there's no substitute for talking with others who have been there.
posted by mermaidcafe at 6:28 AM on July 27, 2015
Which is really hard. For a few years, I had nonstop trauma that interfered with my hygiene and ability to exercise. Plus it meant heavy medication that made me gain a lot of weight. I know those things are symptoms for me and it does help to try to see them that way. To be compassionate and neutral when possible.
I used to resist people telling me to practice mindfulness, but this year it finally made sense. I've also been dealing with chronic health issues, and it helps so much to just take a step back and look at my symptoms. How does this pain move? What does it feel like? Is it on the right or the left?
Finally, do look for a chronic illness support group. Therapy is wonderful and helpful, but there's no substitute for talking with others who have been there.
posted by mermaidcafe at 6:28 AM on July 27, 2015
I have PCOS. I spent most of my teens/20s/30s hating the way I looked because I had symptoms that made me look different.
It hit me about a year ago that thinning hair is an easy fix. I am now wearing a wig or a hat whenever I leave the house. Seriously, it is a gamechanger. now I'm not worrying if someone is staring at my scalp - now they just see what I CHOOSE to let them see. (In a Georgia summer, it's more hat than wig. Winter flips it around.)
I figure if Beyonce, Katy Perry, etc. can wear wigs, so can I.
posted by heathrowga at 6:38 AM on July 27, 2015 [3 favorites]
It hit me about a year ago that thinning hair is an easy fix. I am now wearing a wig or a hat whenever I leave the house. Seriously, it is a gamechanger. now I'm not worrying if someone is staring at my scalp - now they just see what I CHOOSE to let them see. (In a Georgia summer, it's more hat than wig. Winter flips it around.)
I figure if Beyonce, Katy Perry, etc. can wear wigs, so can I.
posted by heathrowga at 6:38 AM on July 27, 2015 [3 favorites]
I also have PCOS. When I was diagnosed 25 years ago at 18, the gynocologist didn't call it PCOS and didn't say anything about how to minimize the symptoms, she just told me to come back when I wanted to try to get pregnant. At 35, the thinning hair was about to send me over the edge, so I went to see another doctor who called it PCOS, put me on low androgen bcps and Spironolactone and a few years later I started using 5% Rogaine once a day on my balding areas.
Fast forward to me at 43, I weigh a whole lot less, I have great skin, the hair where there shouldn't be hair is gone, and a good bit of my head hair that I lost is back (so much so that I don't worry about it at all). I don't feel like I have PCOS at this point. The negative stuff is managed. So there are things you can do to address all of this if it's PCOS. You don't need to suffer with the symptoms. But you do need to be aggressive in pushing for treatment. Because the symptoms cross so many medical specialties (gynocology, dematology, endocrinology), few doctors seem prepared to address all your symptoms or be sympathetic to all of them. Don't let anyone minimize your concerns. If you aren't getting the attention and treatment you need, find a different doctor. Good luck!
posted by cecic at 7:22 AM on July 27, 2015 [4 favorites]
Fast forward to me at 43, I weigh a whole lot less, I have great skin, the hair where there shouldn't be hair is gone, and a good bit of my head hair that I lost is back (so much so that I don't worry about it at all). I don't feel like I have PCOS at this point. The negative stuff is managed. So there are things you can do to address all of this if it's PCOS. You don't need to suffer with the symptoms. But you do need to be aggressive in pushing for treatment. Because the symptoms cross so many medical specialties (gynocology, dematology, endocrinology), few doctors seem prepared to address all your symptoms or be sympathetic to all of them. Don't let anyone minimize your concerns. If you aren't getting the attention and treatment you need, find a different doctor. Good luck!
posted by cecic at 7:22 AM on July 27, 2015 [4 favorites]
Re: internalized self-loathing
You're stuck in what I like to call the Shame Toilet.
So you've found out that you've been unnecessarily harsh on yourself. Seems like you're using that self-loathing to further attack yourself--"Oh crap, I've been participating in self-loathing this whole time. This is further evidence that I suck because I know it's bad for me yet I keep doing it." Self-loathing has a funny way of building on itself.
Try to reframe this new found knowledge as a positive thing. So many people carry around self-loathing thoughts without any awareness. Awareness is the first and most important step to changing your thought patterns. This is progress, not a setback!
For me, the most useful thing is to depersonalize the self-loathing. I like using visual metaphors such as imagining my thoughts as a feisty five-year old, an irritable monkey, or an impending thunderstorm. It's a thought and not evidence of your suckiness. It was probably a habit that formed as a defense mechanism when you were younger and you do not need to blame yourself for that.
posted by joeyjoejoejr at 8:11 AM on July 27, 2015 [1 favorite]
You're stuck in what I like to call the Shame Toilet.
So you've found out that you've been unnecessarily harsh on yourself. Seems like you're using that self-loathing to further attack yourself--"Oh crap, I've been participating in self-loathing this whole time. This is further evidence that I suck because I know it's bad for me yet I keep doing it." Self-loathing has a funny way of building on itself.
Try to reframe this new found knowledge as a positive thing. So many people carry around self-loathing thoughts without any awareness. Awareness is the first and most important step to changing your thought patterns. This is progress, not a setback!
For me, the most useful thing is to depersonalize the self-loathing. I like using visual metaphors such as imagining my thoughts as a feisty five-year old, an irritable monkey, or an impending thunderstorm. It's a thought and not evidence of your suckiness. It was probably a habit that formed as a defense mechanism when you were younger and you do not need to blame yourself for that.
posted by joeyjoejoejr at 8:11 AM on July 27, 2015 [1 favorite]
When I was diagnosed with PCOS, I felt tremendous grief. I was so sad about how I had been beating myself up for gaining 60+lbs, how I was so ugly that I had a mustache, and how freaking mentally crazy I was. Once I got the diagnosis (after 5, FIVE!, different GYNs), I was beside myself for how many years I had 'missed' being fat and ugly. Years that were gone to me, never to be lived again. Years that I loathed my brain and my body.
I was mad too. Pissed. Pissed that so many doctors saw me, saw what I was going through (93 day periods anyone??), and they would recommend that I take an iron pill, or maybe lose some weight, or get a hobby. They either didn't have the knowledge or didn't care enough to search for an answer to help me. I was also mad at myself for not trying harder.
So basically I was sad, mad and ashamed. Everyone close to me was happy that I had a diagnosis (yay! You can get better!) which just made me feel more shame about how I was feeling. Suck.
Fast forward 10+ years and I'm still fat, but my hair isn't falling out as fast anymore, the cystic acne has gone, I have *almost* regular cycles and have 2 beautiful children that were conceived without intervention. I do pay attention to cardiovascular risk factors because PCOS can up the chance of a CVI, but otherwise I just live my life. I DON'T track carbs. I DON'T obsess about my diet. I DO take my meds, see my docs (finally good ones) and do my blood work every 3 months. I DO try to stay active/keep my body moving. Life with diagnosed PCOS is much, much better than with undiagnosed PCOS!
It will all be OK. Just getting on meds with change your brain chemistry so much that you won't even recognize this question in 3 months. Good luck.
posted by PorcineWithMe at 9:57 AM on July 27, 2015 [6 favorites]
I was mad too. Pissed. Pissed that so many doctors saw me, saw what I was going through (93 day periods anyone??), and they would recommend that I take an iron pill, or maybe lose some weight, or get a hobby. They either didn't have the knowledge or didn't care enough to search for an answer to help me. I was also mad at myself for not trying harder.
So basically I was sad, mad and ashamed. Everyone close to me was happy that I had a diagnosis (yay! You can get better!) which just made me feel more shame about how I was feeling. Suck.
Fast forward 10+ years and I'm still fat, but my hair isn't falling out as fast anymore, the cystic acne has gone, I have *almost* regular cycles and have 2 beautiful children that were conceived without intervention. I do pay attention to cardiovascular risk factors because PCOS can up the chance of a CVI, but otherwise I just live my life. I DON'T track carbs. I DON'T obsess about my diet. I DO take my meds, see my docs (finally good ones) and do my blood work every 3 months. I DO try to stay active/keep my body moving. Life with diagnosed PCOS is much, much better than with undiagnosed PCOS!
It will all be OK. Just getting on meds with change your brain chemistry so much that you won't even recognize this question in 3 months. Good luck.
posted by PorcineWithMe at 9:57 AM on July 27, 2015 [6 favorites]
I was diagnosed at age 35 with a congenital disorder that had made my life just not work. I am now 50 and still dealing with very serious fallout from having been sick my whole life, too sick to finish my bachelor's and, prior to my diagnosis, too sick to do paid work. But getting a diagnosis was wonderfully empowering.
Instead of being blown off by doctors and relatives and treated like a hypochondriac, doctors asked me what drugs I liked. Instead of having to go to the ER three fucking times for the same problem before some doctor got the brilliant idea that I needed something stronger (something I said constantly and they ignored me) I could go once and get zithromax from the start and they would automatically give me a refill, something I had never gotten before. It was amazing.
I gradually began getting healthier. Doctors were no longer doing all the wrong things and actively encouraging the development of antibiotic resistent infections. I was able to go to college and get put in the handicapped dorm room, which made a huge difference in my ability to get through the program. Being in school with a huge student loan meant doctors took me seriously and put me on eight prescription drugs so I could finish my program. Doctors didn't give me drugs like that when I was so sick that I was largely bedridden for a few months.
Twenty months of horrendous drug withdrawal followed, which prevented me from pushing for a second interview for an internship with a national lab and prevented me from getting a job. So it continued to be hard and it is not like my life suddenly became wonderful overnight. I am still poor and still work only part time and intermittently. But I am no longer stymied. It is no longer a situation where, no matter how hard I try, I just cannot make anything work. There is forward progress. It is slow, but it is better than how trapped I felt for so long.
I had my moments where I realized how much it had cost me, how much I had been barred from. But I also am good at seeing the upside of how my life went. Because I was diagnosed late, I had my own ideas about my body. I do not have blind faith in what doctors tell me. This has led to alternative treatment choices superior to what most people with my condition get. So there are tangible, measurable positive impacts.
I still have days when I am frustrated and angry about how hard everything is. But it is just so much better than before my diagnosis. I had always been sickly. Having a name for it -- other than "lazy", "crazy" or "hypochondriac" -- has just been vastly better. It is empowering. I still have a serious problem, but it is a problem I can now DO something about. And that's huge.
I hope your diagnosis ends up similarly empowering.
Best of luck.
posted by Michele in California at 10:22 AM on July 27, 2015 [1 favorite]
Instead of being blown off by doctors and relatives and treated like a hypochondriac, doctors asked me what drugs I liked. Instead of having to go to the ER three fucking times for the same problem before some doctor got the brilliant idea that I needed something stronger (something I said constantly and they ignored me) I could go once and get zithromax from the start and they would automatically give me a refill, something I had never gotten before. It was amazing.
I gradually began getting healthier. Doctors were no longer doing all the wrong things and actively encouraging the development of antibiotic resistent infections. I was able to go to college and get put in the handicapped dorm room, which made a huge difference in my ability to get through the program. Being in school with a huge student loan meant doctors took me seriously and put me on eight prescription drugs so I could finish my program. Doctors didn't give me drugs like that when I was so sick that I was largely bedridden for a few months.
Twenty months of horrendous drug withdrawal followed, which prevented me from pushing for a second interview for an internship with a national lab and prevented me from getting a job. So it continued to be hard and it is not like my life suddenly became wonderful overnight. I am still poor and still work only part time and intermittently. But I am no longer stymied. It is no longer a situation where, no matter how hard I try, I just cannot make anything work. There is forward progress. It is slow, but it is better than how trapped I felt for so long.
I had my moments where I realized how much it had cost me, how much I had been barred from. But I also am good at seeing the upside of how my life went. Because I was diagnosed late, I had my own ideas about my body. I do not have blind faith in what doctors tell me. This has led to alternative treatment choices superior to what most people with my condition get. So there are tangible, measurable positive impacts.
I still have days when I am frustrated and angry about how hard everything is. But it is just so much better than before my diagnosis. I had always been sickly. Having a name for it -- other than "lazy", "crazy" or "hypochondriac" -- has just been vastly better. It is empowering. I still have a serious problem, but it is a problem I can now DO something about. And that's huge.
I hope your diagnosis ends up similarly empowering.
Best of luck.
posted by Michele in California at 10:22 AM on July 27, 2015 [1 favorite]
Woah...
There are meds that might make the acne go away?
Woops, OK, that wasn't my point! Point was, there are some benefits to PCOS, mostly around increased testosterone makes it easier to build and retain muscle. Are you stronger than other women? Many women with PCOS are.
Also, fertility is harder earlier, but it seems like long term, it might even out, with higher fertility at older ages (I don't think I was even ovulating in my early 20s, because I am pretty sure I noticed when it started).
So, that can work out a lot better for most women (kids at 35 if I am doing it at all), and more suitable for modern life.
So I kind of feel like a pimply, hairy evolved superhero. OK, so the quirks haven't really been worked out yet, but still, strong!
Carbs are a thing I guess... I am normal weight and PCOS (which means losing weight to make it go away, not so much an option), if I had encountered paleo blah blah before settling into my preferred way of eating, I might have rebelled and ran the other way, understandably! but really, for me it just cones down to skipping the 'padding' in meals, and just having more of the main things. A meal is based around the protein, not the layer of white under the protein and tasty bits (no offense to potatoes and rice, but I won't base my meals or snacks on you). But, that is me, you need to come to your own understanding of what nourishes your body.
For attractiveness? Living with drag queens helped. Beauty, especially 'female' is performative, and that was very freeing to realise it isn't innate. Females do not naturally have longer hair on their heads, less hair under their arms, more defined eyebrows, eye lashes, and lips.
It is not entirely natural for anyone. It is all so much trickery.
I thought I was waiting for my body to start looking pretty by itself, but it is something I chose to perform. I chose not to perform it, usually, but when I do, it is freeing to know I an playing dress ups, and can choose not to later. I can choose to temporarily have clear skin, and for bigger changes, if I get fed up with the few ingrown hairs on my face, I will get electrolysis.
I think I am getting more attractive as I get older, but how much of that is a feedback loop of confidence? No idea, but my 30s are so much better than the 15 years before them.
posted by Elysum at 7:20 PM on July 27, 2015 [2 favorites]
There are meds that might make the acne go away?
Woops, OK, that wasn't my point! Point was, there are some benefits to PCOS, mostly around increased testosterone makes it easier to build and retain muscle. Are you stronger than other women? Many women with PCOS are.
Also, fertility is harder earlier, but it seems like long term, it might even out, with higher fertility at older ages (I don't think I was even ovulating in my early 20s, because I am pretty sure I noticed when it started).
So, that can work out a lot better for most women (kids at 35 if I am doing it at all), and more suitable for modern life.
So I kind of feel like a pimply, hairy evolved superhero. OK, so the quirks haven't really been worked out yet, but still, strong!
Carbs are a thing I guess... I am normal weight and PCOS (which means losing weight to make it go away, not so much an option), if I had encountered paleo blah blah before settling into my preferred way of eating, I might have rebelled and ran the other way, understandably! but really, for me it just cones down to skipping the 'padding' in meals, and just having more of the main things. A meal is based around the protein, not the layer of white under the protein and tasty bits (no offense to potatoes and rice, but I won't base my meals or snacks on you). But, that is me, you need to come to your own understanding of what nourishes your body.
For attractiveness? Living with drag queens helped. Beauty, especially 'female' is performative, and that was very freeing to realise it isn't innate. Females do not naturally have longer hair on their heads, less hair under their arms, more defined eyebrows, eye lashes, and lips.
It is not entirely natural for anyone. It is all so much trickery.
I thought I was waiting for my body to start looking pretty by itself, but it is something I chose to perform. I chose not to perform it, usually, but when I do, it is freeing to know I an playing dress ups, and can choose not to later. I can choose to temporarily have clear skin, and for bigger changes, if I get fed up with the few ingrown hairs on my face, I will get electrolysis.
I think I am getting more attractive as I get older, but how much of that is a feedback loop of confidence? No idea, but my 30s are so much better than the 15 years before them.
posted by Elysum at 7:20 PM on July 27, 2015 [2 favorites]
Oh, man. I feel you.
I'm 25. I had suspected something was wrong as early as 2010, but was formally diagnosed with PCOS in 2012, when I finally went to a doctor to discuss the alarming amount of weight I kept gaining and couldn't get rid of. It's 2015. Despite repeating myself until I was blue in the face and clearly describing every symptom (the missed periods; the werewolf-level hirsutism, which has cost me untold amounts of money to deal with; the underscored depression and mood swings; you name it), it took me three years to get a doctor who could look past my weight. My current doctor looked through the notes left by the others and was furious on my behalf: I very narrowly avoided developing diabetes as a result of the untreated PCOS. She then wrote me a prescription for Metformin with a Spironolactone option 3 weeks ago. Those initial symptoms aren't pleasant, but they DO wear off as your body adjusts to them.
I went through a number of emotions, mostly relief and excitement - I had been angry for years, while also shame-spiraling and getting panic attacks from seeing myself in a mirror. I have avoided being photographed for years - the years in which we're supposed to be all carefree and having photograph-able memories that we can proudly plaster all over social media and shit. I'm certain my eyes were going to fall out from the years spent longingly watching people with "nicer" bodies than me wear better clothing, do better things, and have more success and better lives than me. I had reached the point where I couldn't care about it anymore, lest I watch my life slip away with nothing to show for it.
And I felt this way, despite being well aware of misogynistic culture norms and our obsessions with regulating bodies. Speaking of which:
I feel like PCOS is basically my body's way of telling me, "you're too fat to function," even though I am not overweight.
Gently, you may want to check that mindset. I know people who are clinically obese, without being muscular, who are more fit and have fewer medical problems than my former-athlete, lifelong vegetarian self. Your body's definitely throwing up signal flares, but it's not telling you that you're too fat to function. That would be you (and our culture). Fortunately, that can be managed almost as well as your medical condition.
[It] makes me feel terrified that I might be "stuck" in this position such that I might instead have to work on actually confronting the self-loathing as opposed to side-stepping it via modern medicine.
You're gonna have to put in that work anyway. Because you could take the drugs and have your hair grow back and have clear skin - the self-loathing would still be there, throwing a wrench in your ability to enjoy your life. Modern medicine can improve quality of life, but it has its limits - it won't fix your self-loathing, not completely, even if it turns out that you also have depression (ask me how I know this).
You may not need to go paleo, but a low-carb diet doesn't have to require as much emotional investment as you might think (despite the tones of a bunch of low-carb diet communities). While I definitely don't know if you'll be subject to any of the long-term side effects of Metformin use, I've re-framed my own diet changes as an attempt to aggressively protect my body from any potential long-term damage. I've re-framed exercise as a way to cut down on bloating, and to act as a counterweight to the cardiovascular risks of having PCOS. I had to beat back any attempt to see this as my "getting prettier" because I would get hung up on seeing visible results of my health improving.
And maybe it's because I've been dealing a lot with death lately, but if I can pass this on to you I will. We are all doing some sort of march toward our graves - use an acute awareness of how finite your time is to set those previous burdens down, and on fire. At last, you've been diagnosed! Your medical condition is something that you can treat, right now, so that you can lead a life unfettered by worries about how the Cushings/PCOS is adversely affecting you. If you have to frame this as "...and now, I can finally live," do it. Because you can. And that's something to celebrate.
posted by Ashen at 6:50 AM on July 28, 2015
I'm 25. I had suspected something was wrong as early as 2010, but was formally diagnosed with PCOS in 2012, when I finally went to a doctor to discuss the alarming amount of weight I kept gaining and couldn't get rid of. It's 2015. Despite repeating myself until I was blue in the face and clearly describing every symptom (the missed periods; the werewolf-level hirsutism, which has cost me untold amounts of money to deal with; the underscored depression and mood swings; you name it), it took me three years to get a doctor who could look past my weight. My current doctor looked through the notes left by the others and was furious on my behalf: I very narrowly avoided developing diabetes as a result of the untreated PCOS. She then wrote me a prescription for Metformin with a Spironolactone option 3 weeks ago. Those initial symptoms aren't pleasant, but they DO wear off as your body adjusts to them.
I went through a number of emotions, mostly relief and excitement - I had been angry for years, while also shame-spiraling and getting panic attacks from seeing myself in a mirror. I have avoided being photographed for years - the years in which we're supposed to be all carefree and having photograph-able memories that we can proudly plaster all over social media and shit. I'm certain my eyes were going to fall out from the years spent longingly watching people with "nicer" bodies than me wear better clothing, do better things, and have more success and better lives than me. I had reached the point where I couldn't care about it anymore, lest I watch my life slip away with nothing to show for it.
And I felt this way, despite being well aware of misogynistic culture norms and our obsessions with regulating bodies. Speaking of which:
I feel like PCOS is basically my body's way of telling me, "you're too fat to function," even though I am not overweight.
Gently, you may want to check that mindset. I know people who are clinically obese, without being muscular, who are more fit and have fewer medical problems than my former-athlete, lifelong vegetarian self. Your body's definitely throwing up signal flares, but it's not telling you that you're too fat to function. That would be you (and our culture). Fortunately, that can be managed almost as well as your medical condition.
[It] makes me feel terrified that I might be "stuck" in this position such that I might instead have to work on actually confronting the self-loathing as opposed to side-stepping it via modern medicine.
You're gonna have to put in that work anyway. Because you could take the drugs and have your hair grow back and have clear skin - the self-loathing would still be there, throwing a wrench in your ability to enjoy your life. Modern medicine can improve quality of life, but it has its limits - it won't fix your self-loathing, not completely, even if it turns out that you also have depression (ask me how I know this).
You may not need to go paleo, but a low-carb diet doesn't have to require as much emotional investment as you might think (despite the tones of a bunch of low-carb diet communities). While I definitely don't know if you'll be subject to any of the long-term side effects of Metformin use, I've re-framed my own diet changes as an attempt to aggressively protect my body from any potential long-term damage. I've re-framed exercise as a way to cut down on bloating, and to act as a counterweight to the cardiovascular risks of having PCOS. I had to beat back any attempt to see this as my "getting prettier" because I would get hung up on seeing visible results of my health improving.
And maybe it's because I've been dealing a lot with death lately, but if I can pass this on to you I will. We are all doing some sort of march toward our graves - use an acute awareness of how finite your time is to set those previous burdens down, and on fire. At last, you've been diagnosed! Your medical condition is something that you can treat, right now, so that you can lead a life unfettered by worries about how the Cushings/PCOS is adversely affecting you. If you have to frame this as "...and now, I can finally live," do it. Because you can. And that's something to celebrate.
posted by Ashen at 6:50 AM on July 28, 2015
I was finally diagnosed with PCOS after I'd lost over 150 pounds, but was still having major issues losing weight, mood swings, erratic periods, acne, hirsutism, etc. It took coming in with a year's worth of food logs and my trainer's workout logs for me, to prove I wasn't sitting on the couch and eating Doritos, to then get a referral to an endocrinologist. Who promptly called both my psychologist and my ob/gyn, and the three of them all got together and came up with a treatment plan.
What works for me is:
-spironolactone for the acne (most miraculous shit EVAR)
-my psych meds
-a copper IUD (hormone-free, to not complicate my psych meds)
-regular exercise, not to be 'beautiful', but to focus on what my body can do, and to relieve stress
-a ketogenic diet (to help manage my moods, reduce my hormone swings, and generally feel better about the world)
Also extremely helpful was the Body Image Workbook.
It is amazing how much less I hate the world. I feel better, because I have a plan to control and manage the symptoms of PCOS, which makes me feel less helpless and at the mercy of my hormones.
posted by culfinglin at 9:45 AM on July 28, 2015
What works for me is:
-spironolactone for the acne (most miraculous shit EVAR)
-my psych meds
-a copper IUD (hormone-free, to not complicate my psych meds)
-regular exercise, not to be 'beautiful', but to focus on what my body can do, and to relieve stress
-a ketogenic diet (to help manage my moods, reduce my hormone swings, and generally feel better about the world)
Also extremely helpful was the Body Image Workbook.
It is amazing how much less I hate the world. I feel better, because I have a plan to control and manage the symptoms of PCOS, which makes me feel less helpless and at the mercy of my hormones.
posted by culfinglin at 9:45 AM on July 28, 2015
This thread is closed to new comments.
posted by katemonster at 11:31 PM on July 26, 2015