The Body Is Not an Apology: The Power of Radical Self-Love

“We practice self-acceptance when we have grown tired of self-hatred but can’t conceive of anything beyond a paltry tolerance of ourselves. What a thin coat to wear on this weather-tossed road. Famed activist and professor Angela Davis said, ‘I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept.’ We can change the circumstances that have had us settle for self-acceptance. I assure you there is a richer, thicker, cozier blanket to carry through the world. There is a realm infinitely more mind-blowing. It’s called radical self-love.”

Taylor employs the metaphor of clothing in harsh weather to differentiate between the superficial protection offered by self-acceptance and the protective warmth of radical self-love. The “thin coat” symbolizes the fragile and insufficient nature of mere tolerance of oneself, barely shielding against life’s adversities, which are depicted as a “weather-tossed road.” Taylor suggests a transformative shift toward the “richer, thicker, cozier blanket” of radical self-love, portraying it as a robust and comforting embrace that shelters one from life’s challenges, symbolizing a substantial and nurturing alternative to mere self-acceptance.

“We did not start life in a negative partnership with our bodies. I have never seen a toddler lament the size of their thighs, the squishiness of their belly. Children do not arrive here ashamed of their race, gender, age, or differing abilities. Babies love their bodies! Each discovery they encounter is freaking awesome. Have you ever seen an infant realize they have feet? Talk about wonder! That is what an unobstructed relationship with our bodies looks like. You were an infant once, which means there was a time when you thought your body was freaking awesome too.”

Taylor uses casual language and familiar imagery to evoke the theme of Radical Self-Love as a Natural State. Her conversational tone effectively contrasts this natural self-appreciation with the learned self-criticism that often develops later in life, inviting the reader to rediscover that initial, unspoiled relationship with their body.

“Think of body shame like the layers of an onion. For decades in our own lives and for centuries in civilization, we have been taught to judge and shame our bodies and to consequently judge and shame others. Getting to our inherent state of radical self-love means peeling away those ancient, toxic messages about bodies. It is like returning the world’s ugliest shame sweater back to the store where it was purchased and coming out wearing nothing but a birthday suit of radical self-love.”

Taylor uses similes to illustrate the process of shedding layers of body shame and embracing radical self-love. Comparing body shame to “the layers of an onion,” she conveys the idea that the journey to self-acceptance involves peeling away multiple deeply ingrained and intergenerational layers of negative beliefs and societal judgments. The simile of “returning the world’s ugliest shame sweater” and replacing it with “a birthday suit of radical self-love” encapsulates the transformation from being cloaked in the discomfort of shame to standing confidently in one’s inherent worth and beauty. This simile supports the theme of Radical Self-Love as a Natural State, reflecting Taylor’s argument that radical self-love is inborn, rather than earned or learned.

“We must make peace with not understanding. Understanding is not a prerequisite for honor, love, or respect. I know extraordinarily little about the stars, but I honor their beauty. I know virtually nothing about black holes, but I respect their incomprehensible power. I do not understand the shelf life of Twinkies, but I love them and pray there be an endless supply in the event of an apocalypse! When we liberate ourselves from the expectation that we must have all things figured out, we enter a sanctuary of empathy. Being uncertain, lacking information, or simply not knowing something ought not be an indictment against our intelligence or value.”

Making peace with not understanding is the first of Taylor’s three “peaces.” Here, she employs personal anecdotes and humor to address the importance of embracing uncertainty and separating understanding from respect and love. By juxtaposing celestial phenomena like stars and black holes with the more mundane and whimsical example of Twinkies’ shelf life, she infuses a lighthearted tone to make her point relatable and memorable.

“Lastly, you must make peace with your body. I have been talking all kumbaya and collective in the first two Peaces, but this one is all on you, love. Your body is the body it is. Your belief that your body should be some other body other than the body it is likely a reflection of your struggles with the first two Peaces.”

In this quote, Taylor emphasizes the personal responsibility inherent in achieving self-love, using the term “kumbaya” to contrast the collective aspects of the first two peaces with the individual focus required for the third. The casual invocation of “kumbaya” adds a touch of lightheartedness and acknowledges the communal, sometimes idealistic, nature of the broader social aspects of self-love, while firmly redirecting the focus to the personal, intimate journey of making peace with one’s own body.

“‘Nia, come here. Are those bee stings, Nia?’ My eldest aunt snickered. ‘Yup, looks like she’s been stung,’ my younger aunt cackled. ‘Mmm-hmm, she been stung, and I just don’t know what I am gonna do with her now!’ chided her mother. My ten-year-old self was seriously confused. Why wasn’t Nia crying after being stung by a bee? I always cried when that happened. Was it a special bee that didn’t hurt? And even more confusing were the adults. Why were the grown folks laughing at her and being weird instead of helping her? Within moments it clicked. No one was discussing an insect-inflicted injury; they were poking fun at Nia’s…gasp…boobies!”

In this passage, Taylor employs vivid language to narrate a childhood memory, capturing the confusion and realization of a young mind witnessing body shaming. The use of direct dialogue, with the aunts’ mocking words and laughter, contrasts with the innocent perspective of the 10-year-old narrator, highlighting the pervasiveness of body shaming within familial and social settings. Taylor’s narrative moves from innocent confusion to uncomfortable awareness, illustrating the early implantation of body shame and the societal normalization of commenting on and critiquing physical development, particularly during puberty.

“Ultimately we are wired to recognize difference and maybe even distrust it. However, we were also wired to eat bugs and to poop in a hole in the ground. The point being, we are capable of change. Seeing difference as synonymous with danger is an aspect of our social evolution that can and should be shifted.”

In this quote, Taylor uses purposefully blunt and colorful language to argue that humans can and should change some behaviors even if they are evolutionarily motivated. Throughout the book, she promotes Celebrating Differences to Foster Inclusivity rather than fearing or ignoring them.

“When we say we don’t see color, what we are truly saying is, ‘I don’t want to see the things about you that are different because society has told me they are dangerous or undesirable.’ Ignoring difference does not change society nor does it change the experiences non-normative bodies must navigate to survive. Rendering difference invisible validates the notion that there are parts of us that should be ignored, hidden, or minimized, leaving in place the unspoken idea that difference is the problem and not our approach to dealing with difference.”

Taylor critically addresses the problematic nature of claiming to “not see color,” a stance that superficially aims to dismiss racial difference but, in reality, negates the rich tapestry of diverse human experiences. Taylor’s words emphasize the book’s theme of celebrating difference by asserting that the true issue lies not in the differences themselves but in society’s unwillingness to acknowledge, respect, and value these differences as integral and enriching components of collective humanity.

“In this blossoming age of ‘body positivity,’ it is trendy to profess our undying body love. We treat body positivity as though it is a trophy we can only receive when we reach some state of self-love enlightenment. Body shame is about as unfashionable as the rollers and bathrobe my mother would occasionally pick me up from school wearing, and yet for so many of us it is still our truth.”

Taylor employs metaphor and simile to critique the superficial treatment of body positivity in contemporary culture. Comparing the pursuit of body positivity to a trophy suggests that it is often viewed as a status symbol or an achievement, rather than a genuine, continuous process of self-love, highlighting the discrepancy between public declarations and personal realities. Taylor’s simile of body shame being as “unfashionable” as wearing rollers and a bathrobe in public encapsulates the societal pressure to conceal one’s true feelings of body shame, contrasting the outward trendiness of body positivity with the enduring, often hidden struggle many individuals face.

“We cannot talk about bodies without talking about the systems that govern our bodies. If you are reading this book, you are probably located in some society with a government. That is, of course, unless you somehow found a copy of this book in a dark cave in a secret land where only you live, in which case ignore this section and consider yourself incredibly lucky! The rest of us live under systems of government that are, by their very nature, about rules, laws, and bodies. Allocation of resources, attribution of rights, and assignment of responsibilities in a society are all functions of governance, and they impact the daily lives of the governed (all of whom just happen to be people with bodies).”

In this quote, Taylor weaves together a serious discussion of the impact of governmental systems on bodies with a touch of humor. Her initial statement sets a serious tone, emphasizing the inextricable link between bodies and the governing systems that regulate and affect them. Taylor then briefly shifts to a humorous hypothetical scenario, lightening the mood and employing a whimsical image of finding her book in a “dark cave in a secret land,” before returning to a serious examination of how government systems profoundly influence people’s lives. This interplay of tones not only enhances the readability of the text but also underscores the broad applicability and significance of the book’s subject matter.

“When using the term body terrorism, I have been met with resistance and accused of hyperbole. ‘You are being dismissive of the danger of “real” terrorism,’ detractors have said. This knee-jerk response to our understanding of terrorism is shaped by a public discourse that continues to separate the fear and violence we navigate every day in our bodies from the more overtly political violence we see happening around the world. […] Living in a society structured to profit from our self-hate creates a dynamic in which we are so terrified of being ourselves that we adopt terror-based ways of being in our bodies. All this is fueled by a system that makes large quantities of money off our shame and bias.”

Taylor emphasizes the critical importance of language in framing and confronting the pervasive issue of body shaming and societal bias, deliberately choosing the term “body terrorism” to encapsulate the gravity of the phenomenon. By confronting the detractors’ accusations of hyperbole, Taylor underscores her intentional use of strong, evocative language as a tool to challenge public discourse and draw attention to the destructive nature of systemic body shame. Her steadfast defense of the term “body terrorism” signifies a deliberate strategy to elevate the conversation, compelling society to recognize and address the fear, violence, and profit-driven exploitation inherent in the way bodies are perceived and treated.

“Radical self-love can feel like an impossibility when observed beside the deluge of body shame we see crashing all around us. What I also want you to know is that radical self-love is not an impossibility. It is not even a destination. It is your inherent sense of self. You came here, to this planet, as unapologetic radical love. Body terrorism depends on your amnesia for its survival.”

Taylor employs imagery and metaphor to underscore the theme of radical self-love as a natural state. She depicts body shame as a “deluge […] crashing all around us,” creating a visual of an overwhelming and destructive force, yet contrasts this with the enduring and natural state of radical self-love, likening it to an innate, unapologetic essence with which every individual arrives on this planet. The metaphor of “amnesia” in relation to body terrorism signifies the loss of this inherent self-love due to societal pressures, emphasizing the need for a reawakening to one’s true, unblemished state of being to combat and invalidate the insidious nature of body terrorism.

“Have you ever spent time with your thoughts? Whew, talk about a scene from some dark, dystopic horror film. Our thoughts are an amalgamation of all manner of input mixed with just a dash of original content. Often it’s a mess in there, a vessel filled with self-loathing and judgment. It’s unsurprising that we avoid being present with our thoughts. We think tons of repugnant, petrifying, miserable things about our own bodies and other folks’ bodies every single day. It’s easy to slip into a pit of shame for having these thoughts.”

Taylor addresses the reader directly and uses diction, such as vivid adjectives, to create an intimate tone. Describing the mind as a “scene from some dark, dystopic horror film” and thoughts as an “amalgamation” with “just a dash of original content” captures the chaotic and often negative blend of influences that shape one’s internal dialogue. The use of intense adjectives like “repugnant,” “petrifying,” and “miserable” to describe these thoughts emphasizes the harshness of self-criticism and judgment, highlighting the common struggle of confronting one’s own mind and the ease with which one can fall into a “pit of shame.”

“To live in a world of body terrorism is akin to forcibly imbibing gallons of body shame daily. From the moment we tune into television, radio, computer, or our phones in the morning until we close the laptop or put the phone on silent at night, we are inundated with messages relaying our supposed inherent deficiency. The average adult consumes fifteen and a half hours of media each day, and even when they don’t contain overt body shame, the shows we watch, the music we listen to, and the articles we read deliver messages about bodies in the world, including our own.”

Taylor uses simile and imagery alongside concrete statistics to convey the pervasive and relentless nature of body terrorism in modern society. Comparing the experience to “forcibly imbibing gallons of body shame daily” evokes a sense of being overwhelmed and inundated against one’s will, illustrating the inescapable and forceful nature of societal messages about body image. While magazines and social media are commonly indicted as sources of body shame, Taylor details the many other forms in which these messages are delivered.

“It is difficult to deeply love a stranger. Familiarity breeds fondness. Pillar 3, unapologetic action, asks us to get to know these bodies of ours. If you have been avoiding looking at or touching your body, this is your chance to shift.”

Taylor emphasizes the importance of familiarity in developing a deep connection with and love for one’s body. By comparing the body to a “stranger,” Taylor highlights how a lack of intimate knowledge and interaction with one’s own body can create distance or disconnection, inhibiting the cultivation of self-love. 

“Our lens to the outside world is an interior lens projecting our experience in our bodies onto our external landscape. A shame-clouded interior lens can only project shame and judgment. Employing a radical self-love ethos is like squirting glass cleaner on our daily lives: suddenly we can see ourselves as employees or employers, as parents and friends, as neighbors and community members, as leaders, thinkers, doers—as humans, distinctly connected to other humans.”

Taylor employs metaphor and simile in an analogy to illustrate how one’s internal state shapes their perception of the external world. By likening one’s perspective to a “lens” that projects one’s internal experiences, particularly feelings of shame, onto the surrounding environment, she suggests that a negative self-perception taints one’s view of the world with shame and judgment. By comparing the adoption of a radical self-love ethos to “squirting glass cleaner” on this lens, Taylor depicts the transformative clarity it brings to one’s life, revealing a broader, more connected view of oneself as a part of the human community, free from the distortion of self-imposed negativity.

“Body terrorism is our universal native tongue, our French. We learned the language in our formative years.”

Taylor uses the analogy of language acquisition to convey the pervasive and ingrained nature of body terrorism in society. By likening body terrorism to a “universal native tongue, our French,” she suggests that just as a native language is absorbed almost unconsciously from a young age, so too are the attitudes and behaviors of body terrorism learned and internalized during one’s formative years. This analogy underscores the deep-rootedness of body terrorism within cultural and social structures, highlighting its ubiquity and the challenges of unlearning and resisting these ingrained patterns.

“Understanding body terrorism as a function of systems and structures does not abdicate our responsibility for working toward its eradication. We do not get to say, ‘Oh well, racism/sexism/weight stigma/ageism/homophobia/transphobia is just so big. Boy, I sure hope “they” figure it out.’ Systems do not maintain themselves; even our lack of intervention is an act of maintenance. Every structure in every society is upheld by the active and passive assistance of other human beings.”

Taylor emphasizes The Importance of Interdependence to Collective Liberation by highlighting the collective responsibility in dismantling systems of body terrorism. She points out that acknowledging the systemic nature of issues like racism, sexism, and other forms of discrimination does not absolve individuals of their duty to actively work toward change, rejecting the notion of passively hoping for solutions from an undefined “they.” Taylor’s assertion that systems are maintained through both active and passive human participation underscores the significance of individual actions and inactions, reinforcing the idea that every person plays a role in upholding or challenging the societal structures that perpetuate body terrorism.

“Each of us is responsible for a sphere of influence. We are lawyers, salesclerks, teachers, loan officers, physicians, customer service representatives, counselors, judges, law enforcement agents—an inexhaustible list of humans whose jobs impact the lives of other humans every single day. As a human in a body sharing this planet with other humans in bodies, I have a responsibility to interrupt body terrorism, as do you.”

Taylor emphasizes that every role or job, regardless of its nature, has the potential to affect the lives of others. Taylor’s direct address, “as do you,” serves as a call to action, firmly placing the onus on every individual to actively participate in disrupting the cycle of body terrorism, thereby highlighting the collective responsibility inherent in fostering a more inclusive and compassionate society.

“Failing to change hearts makes body terrorism a centuries-old shell game of guessing what new law it is hiding beneath now.”

Taylor uses the metaphor of a “shell game” to depict the elusive and persistent nature of body terrorism when efforts are focused solely on changing laws without addressing underlying attitudes. The “centuries-old shell game” symbolizes the deceptive and shifting manifestations of body terrorism across time, suggesting that without a fundamental change in societal values and beliefs, body terrorism simply relocates and resurfaces under new guises. Taylor’s metaphor underscores the necessity of “changing hearts”—transforming deep-seated perceptions and biases—as a crucial strategy in effectively eradicating body terrorism, rather than merely engaging in a superficial and futile chase of its ever-changing expressions.

“Some will deride our efforts with charges of playing to ‘identity politics.’ We should remind those people that they, too, have identities that are informed by their bodies. Their lack of awareness about those identities generally means their body falls into a multiplicity of default identities that uphold the social hierarchy of bodies. The luxury of not having to think about one’s body always comes at another body’s expense. We should, with compassion, remind them that oppression oppresses us all, even those who are default. Not even they will always have a body at the top of the ladder. No one wins in a world of body terrorism.”

Taylor confronts the dismissal of “identity politics.” She points out that even individuals who consider themselves outside the discourse of body terrorism possess bodily identities that, often unknowingly, contribute to maintaining systemic inequalities. Taylor’s assertion that “the luxury of not having to think about one’s body always comes at another body’s expense” emphasizes the interconnectedness of societal experiences, articulating that oppression, in any form, ultimately affects everyone, including those who temporarily benefit from the existing social hierarchy. This perspective underlines the pervasive nature of body terrorism and the collective responsibility to acknowledge and address its impact on all lives.

“Luckily for me, Jeevan’s job description demanded that he get below the surface of this radical self-love concept. What he discovered lying at the bottom of his own ocean floor was a history of disordered eating, stories of body shame he harbored against himself, and judgment he aimed at others.”

In this passage, Taylor uses the metaphor of diving to an “ocean floor” to describe the deep and introspective journey of confronting the personal beliefs related to body image and self-perception. By depicting Jeevan’s self-exploration as a dive below the surface, Taylor emphasizes the depth and complexity of internal struggles, suggesting that the most profound and hidden aspects of a person’s relationship with their body lie beneath the superficial exterior.

“Fatphobia remains one of the most underdiscussed and unacknowledged forms of body terrorism. The allure of thin privilege is frighteningly persuasive; from easy shopping to better job and romantic opportunities, society promotes and rewards thinness and punishes fat. The pernicious lie of fatness as an individual failure of self-control, lack of discipline, evidence of gluttony and laziness all wrapped in a scientifically unsound narrative of health often leads even the most vocal intersectional social justice activists to promote weight loss and advance fatphobic body terrorism.”

Taylor addresses the common misconceptions and societal rewards associated with thin privilege. She highlights the ways in which these misconceptions are perpetuated, even among those who consider themselves activists. This quote echoes an earlier passage in which Taylor points out that even an “enlightened” figure like Marianne Williamson has perpetuated fatphobia.