All through my school years, I struggled with accepting my weight. Looking back now, I realise that I wasn’t actually unhealthy or overweight yet I believed I was “fat.” That one little word held so much power over me, shaping how I saw myself because, in my eyes, all the other girls looked perfect.
So I body-shamed myself. I wasn’t athletic and dreaded Physical Education because it involved gym, something I simply couldn’t master. Sports days were a nightmare. I couldn’t run to save my life, and I had no aptitude for anything physical. What I was good at was performing. Ballet, dance, drama, the stage was my safe space. But those were never considered achievements with real merit. And so I hid in plain sight.
I developed late, too. While my friends started showing curves and wearing bras, I was still in T-shirts and cotton vests under my school shirt. I had an awful fashion sense, and my family wasn’t fashion or clothing oriented, which only added to my awkward teen years. And so I grew into this mold, this identity, where I saw myself as “fat.” A word I’ve grown to hate.
Three letters. One loaded word: “Fat.” A term that has pushed people to depression, eating disorders, addiction, and even suicide. The supposed opposite “skinny” is just as toxic. Not “slim,” not “healthy,” but skinny. What does it even mean? And who gets to define it?
The world’s definition of “fat” has always been linked to an impossible standard, often based on the shape of a Barbie doll. For years, beauty contests, both international and local, were judged by men. And the category with the most points? The swimsuit round. Women were told, “Your hips are too wide,” “Your thighs are too thick,” “Your buttocks are too big.” The damage of that kind of language passed down through generations.
That was one of the many reasons brown-skinned girls were excluded from beauty pageants, our genetic traits like wider hips, fuller breasts, and rounder buttocks were never considered part of the “standard.” This was before race even became a visible barrier to inclusion.
So began the journey, or rather, the war of every woman chasing the dream of being “perfect.” Fast forward to today, and we
have #SkinnyTok: a new trend with an old lie, creeping into the lives of girls as young as 10.
So What Is #SkinnyTok? “SkinnyTok” is a disturbing trend that’s taken over TikTok and other social media platforms. It floods our screens with messages urging young girls, some not even in puberty to lose weight at any cost. It’s the new face of an old obsession: a skinny body equals worth.
It plays directly into the algorithm. Every like, click, and scroll feeds the cycle. We don’t even realise how we’ve been recruited —willingly into a marketing trap. One reaction emoji can influence your feed for weeks. And the more time we spend online, the more we get sucked into a stream of curated images, unrealistic bodies, and harmful messaging.
It’s subtle, but it’s powerful. And it’s creating what I call a “mental wellness dilemma.”
As Ecclesiastes reminds us, “There is nothing new under the sun.” What seems like a modern issue this obsession with body image is really just history repeating itself. Women have always been chasing the ideal body. The only thing that’s changed is the delivery system: now it fits in our pocket and plays 24/7.
And so we have created a Culture of Counting. We’ve become addicted to measuring everything; our steps, calories, water intake. We fast, detox, and cleanse. We obsessively read food labels, checking for trans fats and sugar levels, though most of us can’t truly interpret what any of it means.
We act like every food choice is a life-or-death decision. In reality, we’ve been swept into the wellness industry, one of the most profitable sectors in the world. While we scroll, someone’s getting rich off our insecurities.
And in the middle of it all are our children. Especially our girls.
They’re developing eating disorders like anorexia and bulimia at 10 years old. They’re skipping meals, counting every gram, and crying over the shape of their bodies. Why? Because every second video tells them they are not worthy unless they look like the latest influencer.
They’re not living childhoods. They’re branding themselves, competing with filters, trends, and hashtags.
And with that we have brought the Real Danger in our Homes. Many parents worry about their child’s safety “out there.” So we keep them inside, glued to screens, thinking we’re protecting them. But we forget about the danger right inside our homes, in the very screens we handed over. We don’t look up from our own phones long enough to realise the damage being done.
We wonder why our child is sad all the time. Why they’ve become withdrawn or moody. Why their confidence has vanished. And often, we miss the real culprit: a daily onslaught of messaging that tells them their bodies aren’t good enough, that they’re not good enough.
Their minds are still developing. Their bodies are still growing. Yet they’re willingly starving themselves, over-exercising, or spiraling into depression because some algorithm has convinced them they aren’t “worthy” unless they’re “skinny.”
I am drawn to reflect on My Mother’s Shadow. As a teen and young adult, I remember watching my mother struggle with her weight. She tried every new diet, every quick-fix pill. (Like I said, nothing new under the sun.)
Today, she’s in her 80s and has lost so much weight due to illness that it’s like she’s slowly disappearing before our eyes. And I would give anything to have the mother back who once believed she had a weight problem.
I now understand that conditions like polycystic ovarian syndrome, endometriosis, and hypothyroidism can affect metabolism and make weight loss incredibly difficult.
But back then, I believed I was unattractive, unlovable, unsexy simply because I didn’t meet the world’s so-called standard.
Then came a shift: CURVY was in. Suddenly, big buttocks and fuller figures were celebrated. “Voluptuous” became the new sexy. Celebrities flaunted curves, implants boomed, and the marketing machine switched gears. The message became “bigger is better.” Remember “Hips don’t lie”?
But that trend, too, was just a rerun. Because now we’ve come full circle right back to #SkinnyTok.
So what can you, as a parent, caregiver, or concerned adult, actually do if you notice signs that your child may be struggling with body image or disordered eating?
- Pay attention to what they’re consuming.
Check the sites they visit and the videos they watch. Don’t just monitor, engage. Ask questions. Show interest. Be present.
- Encourage open conversations.
Create a safe space where your child can talk about how they feel. If they’re struggling to talk to you, involve a school counsellor, therapist, or trusted adult in your circle.
- Watch your own language.
Be mindful of how you talk about your own body and others’. Kids pick up on everything. If you constantly criticise your weight or appearance, they will learn to do the same.
- Normalize emotions and vulnerability.
Teach your child that it’s okay to feel insecure or to question themselves, but also remind them of their worth beyond appearance.
- Don’t assume it’s a “girl thing.”
Body image issues affect boys and nonbinary kids, too. This is a human issue, not a gendered one.
And this message isn’t just for the children/teen in your home, it’s for you, too. Healing starts at home. Break the cycle. Undo the harm. Choose different words.
There is Power in Awareness! We are the reason hashtags work. Our likes, clicks, and shares feed the algorithm. It doesn’t care about age, background, or vulnerability, it just wants engagement.
We live in a world powered by information and technology. It makes life easier, yes, but it also brings risk. The dark web isn’t just some faraway corner of the internet. The real danger may already be in your living room, on your child’s feed, whispering messages of shame.
So teach your children and remind yourself, that worth is not measured in kilograms or Instagram likes. A beautiful life isn’t built on trends. It’s built on truth, connection, and knowing that we are enough, just as we are.
Because sometimes, the most revolutionary thing we can do is look up from our screens, from our shame and simply see each other.
If you or your child are struggling with body image, eating disorders, or mental health concerns, please know that you’re not alone. Reach out for help:
I’m available through Pondoland Times, reach me at anytime.
Or
- SADAG (South African Depression and Anxiety Group)
24hr Mental Health Helpline: 0800 456 789
Suicide Crisis Helpline: 0800 567 567
SMS 31393 or WhatsApp 087 163 2030 for support
Website: www.sadag.org
- Lifeline South Africa
National Counselling Line: 0861 322 322
- Childline South Africa
Toll-Free Helpline for children and teens: 0800 055 555
Website: www.childlinesa.org.za
- South African Federation for Mental Health
Support and referral services: www.safmh.org
