WHAT WE'RE ABOUT
We are constantly redefining our own perspectives, and therefore tend to write a lot about our personal experiences. Many followers and contributors are living with anorexia, bulimia, body dysmorphic disorder, depression, and a variety of other body image disorders or mental illnesses, so please be respectful and remember that health applies differently to everyone. Any and all potentially triggering content will be prefaced with a trigger warning.
RBI supports all races, genders, classes, and sizes. We try our best to make this a safe space for everyone. If we are not doing our job or checking our privilege, we invite you to please inform us.
Some of the artwork you see here has been created by our founder or moderators, some sourced when applicable. Please be kind enough to source this blog whenever you share it's content.
We are not health professionals. Any and all advice provided on this blog is supported only by our own research, studies, and personal experiences; nothing more.
This blog is part of the Safe Space Network.
About 2 1/2 years ago, I was hospitalized after a severe PTSD episode caused me to lose consciousness. This picture was taken by my girlfriend the day I was released. My arms were bruised from IVs and blood drawings, and there was residue left on my skin from the five heart monitors that had been adhered to my chest. I grew up paralyzingly self-conscious of my flat chest and pale, veiny skin, but seeing this photo of myself in such a vulnerable state helped me see the beauty in my own perceived “imperfections”. It has ultimately helped me in my ongoing journey towards recovery, both from PTSD and from disordered eating and body dysmorphia.
Growing up, I was told to never wear bright colors because it would bring unwanted attention to my complexion.
Fuck that.
IG: hersheywrites :]
Patience Hodgson, lead singer of the Australian band The Grates, grew up with a large, rare port wine stain birthmark, otherwise known as Klippel Trenaway Sydrome, covering half of her upper body.
“I love my birthmark’s spectrum of colour. When I’m warm it’s a kind of red-purple, like the colour of some plums and when I’m cold it’s a vivid, almost neon blue. I also like how it’s a kind of protective barrier protecting me against non-accepting and unthoughtful people.”
via Nat Mccomas
Despite the state of my skin and my inability to stop itching and picking at it, I’m feeling good tonight. Because I’m able to step back, recognize, and occupy my fingers with nail-painting instead.
skin color is not the sole determining factor of your race/ethnicity.
skin color is not the sole determining factor of your race/ethnicity.
skin color is not the sole determining factor of your race/ethnicity.
shout it from the rooftops
My skin is so bad I want to flay it off and begin again. Why am I still suffering acne at 32? This is ridiculous. When I was younger I would find every cream/ lotion/ potion I had and apply them one after the other, chemically punishing my skin for being terrible.
I hate when people tell me to use [insert product blah blah] because they NEVER work and they’re usually expensive as fuck. Yes I’ve probably tried what you want to suggest.
I hate people with clear skin. No really.
Um can I get in on this skin frustration? Because, honestly - all of this, just a different condition.
Weather changes have made my seb derm flare up again and I CAN’T STOP PICKING AT IT. I even do it in my sleep. I wake up in the morning and loathe putting my head under the water in the shower because I know it’s going to sting something fierce. My entire scalp feels like one giant, flaking, festering scab. It creeps across my face from my temples, out from behind my ears. I’m running out of treatments that work.
I’d like a skin transplant. Or something.
Oh white colonialism..
And what scares me most is the people that look at this and see nothing wrong…
Imagine growing up and rarely seeing anyone that looks even vaugley like you or your people. EVER.
Imagine when you finally do, they are almost always the most racially ambigious person you have ever seen, within the confines of the perfect weight for the category of media you are viewing.
Take a moment to digest the depth of that. For years, you are subliminally taught that if you are not the standard white beauty you A: Do Not Exist. B: Are not beautiful. C. Do not matter D. All of the above.
Imagine what that does to you in life…For life. And how hard it is to try to undo all of that, plus the damaging messages that your own family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, significant others, etc. do as they are trying to work through their own internalized hatred. Imagine the projection….The defiance The ignorance known and unknown. Seen and unseen.
How do you love yourself in a world that refuses lift the white veil and acknowledge your existence, beauty, and worthy beyond a convenient caricature formulated for the white world to feel safe?
Fashion Designer and Thick Model Chimere
What are stretch marks?
Stretch marks are narrow streaks or lines that develop on the surface of the skin. They develop when the the skin is stretched suddenly and the middle layer of your skin (the dermis) breaks in places, allowing the deeper layers to show through. [x]
Are they common?
Yes, so many people have them. Fat people have them. Thin people have them. Models have them. Athletes have them. VS Angels have them. Men, women, and those who don’t fit the gender binary. Young, old, and anywhere in between. Anyone can get them, and many do. They appear when skin stretches due to various types of growth, and everybody grows, so they’re more common than you might think.
Why do I barely ever see other people with stretch marks, then?
Firstly, they’re not as noticeable as you may think they are. You are your own worst critic - nobody is going to be judging your appearance as harshly as you do. I bet you’ve seen hundreds of women with stretch marks, and just never noticed them.
Secondly, it’s no secret that the media likes to hide everything they might deem as an “imperfection”. Spots, eyebags, pores, stretch marks, wrinkles, body hair - all of these things are completely normal, but are barely ever seen in the media. It doesn’t mean that people don’t have them, it just means that the media love to make their models as stereotypically “flawless” as possible, to try to convince you that you need to buy the products that they’re selling. Nobody looks like the models in magazines. Even the models don’t look like the models in magazines. Just because you can’t see people’s stretch marks, doesn’t mean they don’t exist.
What can I do?
Stretch marks fade over time. Many start off as pink or purple, and gradually fade to white, becoming barely noticeable. The speed of this process can sometimes be increased by moisturizing the area. There are many different products on the market that claim to remove stretch marks, but often you are paying more for what is essentially a glorified moisturizer. Anything that moisturizes and therefore increases the elasticity of your skin may help to reduce the appearance of your stretch marks, but there is no guarantee that this will work, and they will probably never disappear completely.
Stretch marks are completely normal, so the best thing you can do is to learn to accept them. They are a part of you, they’re not the enemy. Embrace your stripes!
There are marks that have stretched and such. Their beauty is undefined.
Psoriasis Pictorial
As part of creating this blog as an anonymous outlet (one where I’m exposing my torso regularly), I must confront something that brings me discomfort & shame when it’s time to take off my shirt or get intimate — psoriasis. A non-contagious, chronic but not terminal disease. There’s lots of info out there about it, and if asked I can write more about my experience with different treatments, what aggravates it for me, intimacy, etc.
This blog is a journey of self-improvement, so in addition to gaining a better body, I want to maintain an awareness of the disease. Maybe offer some inspiration to somebody out there.
This is my third post to Our Skin, and I’m thinking of it as a kind of closure on my self-consciousness about my body hair. I committed to uploading a photo of my re-grown arm hair in the previous post, and I planned to keep my word. I often still wish it wasn’t so dark (and the photo really doesn’t show that well), but at least it’s pretty soft! Since before March, I have completely stopped attempting to shave/pluck my navel area, butt, and arms and hands! When I think of the maintenance I’m still doing for the rest of my body hair, a lot of it seems unnecessary, but right now I’m okay with the balance—I’m content with the amount of hair I have and the amount of hair I put in a bit of effort to remove. Even when the stuff I normally remove grows out a bit (like when I stop shaving my legs for two weeks), I don’t really care much anymore! Visible stubble around my ankles peeking out from my jeans? Oh, well.
Another intention of this post is to address something that I struggled with until recently, and I’ve seen submissions here touching on the subject: Excess body hair and relationships/sex. So many people (and myself included, until recently) wonder how anyone could see them as attractive with their extra hair. Well, I found someone who thinks I’m beautiful and sexy, hair and all. In no way am I saying this to boast, or to say something silly like, “Well I got validation from a man so everything’s peachy now.” I’m sharing this to give you all hope that there are people out there who just don’t care—in the best way! My current partner doesn’t ignore my body hair—sometimes he seems curious about it, in a way. But always, he is accepting. He touches my treasure trail all the time. Strokes my hairy arms. Examines my hairy knuckles. And still thinks I’m attractive. At first I was mortified whenever he would touch my butt, but it’s his favorite part of my body! I never thought I would find this kind of person, and I sincerely hope the fact that I did gives the rest of you struggling with low self-esteem or body-image issues hope for yourselves!
Again, I have to express my appreciation for this blog for allowing me to share my journey, and helping so many others like myself. I wish the best for all of those involved here!
Love.
Those who truly love you should not care one bit about the amount of hair on your body.
You are wonderful.
I have a love/hate relationship with my body. There are moments where I feel so lovely and others where I can’t look in the mirror without crying. I feel so cheated, because I want to love every part of me but it sometimes feel so impossible with all the hate fat receives. But lately I have been affirming myself by saying that my body is cloaked in the lightening scars of my struggles, my growth, my success, my stretch marks. They really are so beautiful.