Tender | Hannah Colen

Tender: a series on vulnerability.

This project explores capturing the feeling of being completely vulnerable and open to one’s physical insecurities in a neutral setting. All individuals in this series are volunteers. Most have never been comfortable in front of a camera. Many have experienced eating disorders, body dysmorphia, sexual trauma, and substance abuse. This project is a glimpse into what it is to be human in front of a camera, facing our oldest fears head-on.

To further prepare for this on-going series, I chose to partake in a course on trauma-informed photography, in order to utilize the most appropriate language during photo sessions and focus on reducing the probability of re-traumatization. Before each photo session, I took the time to sit down and speak with each individual about their relationship with their body: how they felt about them, their biggest insecurities, what they felt comfortable with that day. Unlike past works of mine, this series was completely un-posed, and followed a much more candid technique. A written piece by each volunteer was accompanied alongside each set of photos. To preserve the honesty of the series, all images have remained un-retouched.

Through ‘Tender,’ I hope to display the complexities of identity and remove pre-conceived notions that one subconsciously has when viewing such a diverse group of subjects. Each person’s story is unique. Although my subjects come from different backgrounds, all have one thing in common: the goal to become more comfortable within their own skin, along with encouraging others to begin a discourse surrounding body image.

As a female in America today, I grew up with sex and body standards shoved in my face since day one. I can remember my mom warning me of my growing a 'double chin' when I was just ten or eleven, telling me that I'd never have a boyfriend if I didn't shave when I began to let my leg hair grow. Nothing I would hold against her now; the way my mother was taught about her body image by her mother affected how she taught me to build a loving relationship with myself. That was the beginning of the battle between living healthy and wanting to achieve that unachievable image, having to maintain what I didn't want to just to fit in. I began to self harm when I was beginning my teenage years, and my perspective of my body got worse. I thought because of my body hair that I was different and that my weight made me a hideous monster. Despite the dark thoughts, they were woven with some self love and a "fake it 'til you make it" mindset. Hyping myself up in the mirror and acting like I felt good gave me some of the tools I needed to begin to own my body and start to love it too. A month after I graduated high school, I went to the hospital with an unbearable discomfort in my lower abdomen. There was a ten-pound cystic mass attached to my left ovary, which was surgically removed the next day. The months following my surgery, my weight went from 185 to 125 pounds. It felt like I went through somewhat of a physical and emotional detox afterwards. My whole life, even though I was so young, I had been thinking it was too late and too hard to work on my body. I thought I wasn't good enough to love myself. This time in my life put me on a path to start implementing patience and mindfulness into my daily life. Today, almost three years later, my relationship with myself has improved so much. This year in particular has been a year of kicking out the pesky self doubts and self hate. I struggle with it everyday, but every time is an opportunity to overcome, and I do! My journey with my body has inspired me to share it with those who may need a lil extra love. Showing all body types represented in art and entertainment has been a huge stepping stone for my personal self love movement.

I used to be a bit bigger than I am today, this year made me lose almost 40 pounds just from stress. I always thought that I would love being the size I am now, but I am still unhappy with myself because I’m not healthy. I’ve realized that more than anything, I just want to start loving my body and taking care of it no matter what it looks like, which is why I chose to participate in this series.
I have always been insecure about my stomach and my thighs. I’ve never had a flat stomach and I always wanted one, but I’ve come to see that as unrealistic for most people. Even with the weight I’m at now, I still have a little bit of a stomach, but that will always be there. I think I’ve always been insecure about my thighs because I grew fast and had dark stretch marks on them for a while. Now, I feel a little better about them because I know many people struggle with stretch marks and other insecurities that are actually very beautiful. So, I try to think of them as just pretty markings that everyone has, rather than something ugly.

Throughout my adolescence, I have fought many internal fights between how I viewed my body and how others perceived it. There was always something that had to be said about physical appearances, the people around me always felt that it was their duty to point out every single thing that was not conventionally "perfect" about my body, or tell never-ending tales about the terrors of gaining weight or getting too dark from the sun, or having a face riddled with acne. All of those things are so natural and normal, but the integration of it into my young mind has created a lot of toxic ways of seeing my body. Today, I am constantly trying to destroy years of harmful thinking that I have harbored inside for many years.

My relationship with my body has always been very disorganized, I never know what to expect day by day. Sometimes, I feel so beautiful that I want the whole world to see me, but there are other days I don’t even want to look at myself. Today, and recently, I have been making a great effort to accept every part of my body and realize that my body is not a set ‘thing,’ but rather, something that is ever changing and growing every day. I have insecurities from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. There is probably nothing on my body or within myself that I have not judged before. It’s very sad to say, but it’s true and I won’t lie about that. However, there are some things about my insecurities that I love passionately and can accept as I grow up.

A couple insecurities in particular stick out as always kind of hanging out in the background. The first thing related to my body that I can remember feeling insecure about was my stomach. It has always been where I carried my weight, and no matter how much I work on it, I will probably never lose that little pouch and get that desirable six-pack. Even as a young kid, I recall constantly sucking in my stomach in order to feel less embarrassed, especially since I was often hanging around other kids who played sports. My other major insecurity just stems from my overall build. Given my legs, chest, and arms in particular, I just don't have a traditionally masculine body type. I've dealt with the common microaggressions from extended family over the years, such as "why don't you eat some more protein", or "John, you ought to put some meat on those bones!" I forgo taking offense to it, since I think those attitudes are very much generational, but they do represent moments where I am reminded of the legacy of traditional body standards and my precarity in relation to them.
I feel the need to acknowledge at this point my position as a cisgender white male in our patriarchal society, as that obviously matters as context for my relationship with my body. In many ways, writing this is difficult, knowing that so many people struggle with this more intensely, and that our culture prescribes far more destructive attitudes toward some bodies than others. With that said, it cannot be overstated the role of feminism in deconstructing traditional bodily standards for all genders alike. Sometimes I sense men, myself included, don't have as diverse a vocabulary for situating their insecurities in our patriarchal context. Consequently, I think some men struggle to see how current discourse is directly relatable to them as well. Hopefully, my inclusion in this project may encourage others to actively pursue a discourse surrounding body image that is sensitive to the specific challenges that toxic masculinity presents for men, whilst also giving men the nuanced perspectives to confront those challenges.

My relationship with my body throughout my life has been a ‘love-hate kinda thing’. Some days, I love how I look, and other days, my insecurities get the best of me. A lot of my insecurities, I think, come from how people view attractiveness nowadays: slim waist, thick thighs, perfect skin, long perfect hair—I am neither of those. Along with those is how I was raised and taught about the expectations of being a woman in the Philippines. I often compare myself to others, which leads to me being too hard on myself and forgetting to focus about the good and unique traits I have. As of today, I still have those insecurities that I have constant battles with. However, I have been overcoming them with time, patience, and love for myself.

My relationship with my body has been very complex. When I was younger, I felt that I was attractive, but influences from my parents and peers made me feel less confident, especially since I have a more stocky build. Other people's standards of beauty and attractiveness were pressed upon me, which made me feel less than myself. In college, I gained a lot of weight, but at the same time, experienced disordered eating, due to the large shift in lifestyle from high school to college. For a long period of time, I was very self-conscious of this weight and was no longer satisfied with my appearance, and even wore baggy clothes to hide my body. However, instead of being ashamed of my body, I recently began judging my body off of how I feel. I feel good and am able to get done what I need to do and I'm proud of my body for all the things it can do for me.