By Talitha Wing

Every single human being has a body. A marvellous, complex piece of machinery that we will spend our lives inside of; an ecosystem working day and night to run the factory of our beings. Our bodies allow us to build lives in which we can connect, love, laugh and cry with other bodies.

Many of us spend an inconceivable amount of time trying to navigate how we can best relate to our bodies. The emphasis of this relation is all too often not centred around the incredible work our bodies are doing but rather purely around how they look.

It is no wonder that society’s obsession with ‘look’ embeds itself deep into our psyche. We learn that our worth is tied to our aesthetic and become experts at finding flaws in ourselves – and others. Who profits from this? The patriarchy, the media, and of course the beauty industry, who take advantage of our insecurities, dysmorphia, self-loathing, and the intrinsic belief that our value is based on our outer shell.

Whilst the ‘Body Positivity Movement’ may seem like the perfect antidote to this, it puts just as much energy and focus on our bodies as ornaments. This time though, instead of hating the shell, we should love the way it looks unconditionally. We go from one extreme to the other. But what if we didn’t have to think or feel any particular way about how our bodies look?

For me, body neutrality is a concept based on the idea of accepting and respecting your body by understanding that its importance is functionality rather than appearance, and it has undoubtedly changed the relationship I have with myself. After all, we don’t ever think, Does my liver look nice? Does my heart look curvy or skinny enough? Is my kidney pretty enough? I don’t care if my lungs are perfectly symmetrical, so why is it so important for my breasts to be?

I think body neutrality has helped me rewire and redistribute my attention, creating a space where I can replace how do I look today? with how do I feel today? A space where we can become carers of our machines, where we can rest them, feed them and keep them alive without tying too much of our emotion to these acts. We rest them because they are tired, not because they are in need of ‘beauty sleep’, we feed them not to keep them thin or bulky but so that they have energy. We are practical in relation to our physical selves rather than associating labels, good or bad, with what we see in the mirror.

By no means am I saying that body neutrality is straightforward. It, too, is a concept that has its shortcomings. There are many days I still want to feel beautiful – I have the human urge to look good – and some days I am left disappointed. However, even then I am starting to be able to let those thoughts come and go in waves without giving them nearly as much power as I used to. I am also very aware that although I may not always feel like it, I have a body that is deemed acceptable by society, which I’m sure makes it easier for me to find comfort in this neutrality.

I must also acknowledge that my outer shell does say a lot about me. It tells the world I am a woman of colour. It tells the world that I am able-bodied. It tells the world that I have the same eyes as my sister – and yes, all these things are deeply linked to my identity, but not because of how they appear externally. These things go way beyond the surface in making me, me. I am what I am. I guess it boils down to an acceptance of that. Or, to start with, an acknowledgement of it.

Yes, many of us will still look at people and feel attracted to their bodies. We might like the way their arms look, the shape of their nose or the size of their hands. And that’s okay. I’m not saying we have to be so completely neutral that we don’t notice bodies at all. But if we can shift our attitudes just a little, we may help to loosen the shackles of our looks-obsessed society.

I want to be seen for the things I have to say and for the words I have to write, for the people I love and have loved, much more than I want to be seen for the vessel in which I did those things. Most of all, I want us all to try and start placing importance and value on the selves that we would be if we were just floating brains and souls in glass jars. This, of course, is a work in progress.