By skyforbes 
Chronic pain is a mf’er! Not only does it attack you physically on the regular, it also fucks with your body image. So many of us dealing with body image and chronic illness are struggling with low self-esteem, and a negative voice in our ear—particularly about our bodies.
I look in the mirror most days and barely recognise the body staring back at me. My body has changed in so many ways. There are curves I never asked for, stiffness that never used to exist—all buried under a constant ache in my pelvis that won’t go away.
My posture has changed, my skin no longer has the glow it once had, and everything seems to take so much effort.
What’s funny (not really) is that I didn’t fully realise how deeply chronic pain altered the way I see—or don’t see—myself. It’s more than just pain.
It’s the nausea from meds, the weight gain from not being able to work out, and the bags under my eyes from being sleep-deprived. It’s how my body tightens up when I don’t pace myself.
Now, I was never the most confident about my body—but I was way more confident than I am now!
I used to like the way my body looked in clothes. I felt good in my body. Now, I feel like I’m watching myself from a distance—with judgment, embarrassment, and pity.
Grieving My B.P. (Before Pain) Body Image
There’s a type of grief only those living with chronic pain or chronic illness can truly understand.
It’s the grief of losing a version of yourself you may never get back. I miss feeling like a bad bitch in a sexy outfit. I miss not being so critical of every so-called flaw.
Before chronic pain, I didn’t think about my body that much—I moved through life carefree. Walked fast without thinking, danced without consequence, and dressed with confidence and a love for fashion.
I didn’t have to think about ways to do household chores without being in agony the next day, or plan days out around where I could find places to sit. My body was just a body—it took me from A to B.
Of course, I had insecurities, but they didn’t consume me. They didn’t dictate my mood. Now, they do. Now, my body feels like a rusty old cage, with the doors hanging on for dear life.
I recently came across this powerful post on Memoir Mag by Meghan E. MacNamara, and it felt like I was reading a page out of my diary. She captures so well the complexities of body image and chronic illness—the grief of mourning a body that has changed so much it now feels like a stranger. That feeling of loss—both physical and emotional—is something I know all too well.
Every day, I wake up overthinking, evaluating how bad the pain is. Can I manage going outside today? Can I wear a pair of jeans today, or will they feel like a punch to the pelvis? How far can I push myself before I break?
There is a major disconnect between what I feel my body should be and what it will allow. And it’s not just physical—it cuts deep emotionally and mentally, in the worst possible ways. This is one of the hardest parts of dealing with body image and chronic illness.
Body Image, Chronic Illness, & Skipping Selfies
Recently, I’ve been looking at pictures of myself B.P. (before pain). And honestly, cursing that girl for being so hard on herself about how small her boobs were and the stretch marks on her thighs. That girl in the photo would never have imagined that her body would be the way it is now.
Now, she’s a girl who avoids taking pictures like her life depends on it, because seeing them makes her upset. The girl who used to love fashion and stomp the streets like they were her runway now avoids clothes she used to love—because they highlight her bloated stomach or cause her pain.
She’s a girl who worries about how tired she looks and wonders if people can see the fatigue and pain behind her eyes.
She used to feel like she had ownership over her body. Now, it feels like it belongs to someone else. She misses the feeling that her body liked her.
When Body Image & Chronic Illness Mess With Your Confidence
And I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. A recent survey found that nearly half of people living with a health condition or disability said their body image had made them feel low or ashamed in the past year.
Over 50% said it had negatively affected their self-esteem. Compared to people without chronic illness, that is a huge difference—and it shows just how much this shit messes with your mind, not just your body.
Every day feels like a negotiation—one I usually lose. Most mornings feel like the war is over before it’s even started. I can’t count how many days I’ve cried in the shower because it hurts to reach around and wash my back. It feels like my body is breaking, while the rest of the world passes me by—no fucks given about what I’m going through.
This is what people don’t always see when it comes to body image and chronic illness!
Still Here… Even After Betrayal
And yet—somehow—I still show up.
Even when I feel like my body has betrayed me. Even with the scars that remind me daily of my pain and insecurities.
I’m still here, and I’m still willing to learn how to love my body again—no matter how it looks, no matter how much pain it carries. I’m trying to appreciate the simple fact that this body has brought me this far through it all.
I’ve got weight in places I didn’t know were possible. Scars—visible and invisible. And there are moments when I disappear from photos, conversations, the mirror, and life—because I’m too exhausted to pretend.
Making Up(ish) With My Body
But I’m also relearning how to fight back—against the insecurities, the pain, and the self-doubt. I am truly on a journey to fall back in love with myself and my body again.
I’m learning to laugh at the ridiculousness of what chronic pain brings. I’m even trying to fall back in love with fashion again. Yeah, I may need to make a few tweaks to feel comfortable—but it’s possible.
I’m teaching myself to focus on the things that make me feel confident, rather than focusing on things that make me feel insecure. It’s time to celebrate the things my body can do, not emphasise what it can’t.
I am searching for self-love again. Not in a corny way, but in a way that helps me accept both my flaws and my strengths. In a way that speaks life into myself as much as I do others. It’s time to stop comparing my current self to my past self.
How I’m Rebuilding My Body Image & Self-Love
As part of my journey to rebuild my relationship with my body, I’ve set myself a mini challenge to boost my confidence and self-worth—hopefully, you can set a similar challenge for yourself to help with body image and chronic illness.
- Wear clothes that make me feel comfortable, confident, and stylish.
- Unfollow anyone who makes me feel unworthy or undesirable.
- Allow my body to rest, even when my mind tries to trick me into believing I don’t deserve to.
- Speak to myself with the same kindness and compassion I give to others.
- Take selfies and photos—on good days and bad days—to remind myself that life has ups and downs, but I’m beautiful in both.
- Find healthy, sustainable ways to lead a healthier lifestyle through diet, movement, and taking care of mental health.
This Isn’t the Body I Asked For—But It’s Mine
And bit by bit, I’m learning to embrace it.
To stop looking down on it.
To love myself—pain and all.
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