MINDBODY: The Mindbody Prescription, by John E. Sarno, MD // The Mindbody Workbook (Vol. 2), by David Schechter, MD with Justin Barker, PsyD

I've been busy over the past couple of years.  In October 2023, I started experiencing pain in my right hip and the ball of my left foot.  The following month, I developed pain in the ball of my right foot.  In subsequent months, the pain extended to my left hip, both heels, both foot arches, and my right ankle.  I was a mess.  Three surgeries, hundreds of labs, blood draws, and imaging tests later, I am sloooooooowly finding my way back to something resembling normal.  I have a ways to go yet, but I finally have more of a direction.  This leaves me feeling less...untethered.

I stumbled upon the Curable app some time ago when I saw an infographic on Instagram about chronic pain and our neural pathways.  It really resonated with me, so I'm sharing it here.  Please look at it; it's very much worth your while.

CURABLE INFOGRAPHIC

I wasn't willing to throw money at something that could end up being snake oil, so I found that they had a podcast that was free - the right price!  I spent some time listening to a few episodes that I'd cherry-picked for my situation and found one in particular to be eerily striking. The guest on the episode described a very similar scenario with nearly mirror symptoms to my own and he mentioned a particular book and workbook that were his gateway to understanding these concepts.  This seemed like a more reasonable starting place to me -purchasing a couple books, after all, won't break the bank- so I did.  And boy, am I glad.

I first bought (and completed) The Mindbody Workbook (Volume Two), by David Schechter, MD and Justin Barker, PsyD.  

This was an incredibly informative resource for me that served as an excellent guide to journaling and reflection on my emotions.  As I neared the end, I looked to this workbook to guide me in what to do next.  Among a long list of other recommended books and gurus in the field of mindbody medicine, one name resounds as the father of the field:  Dr. John Sarno.

Sarno published a number of books before his death several years ago, but I felt that the one that would be most appropriate for my needs was the general guide to mindbody symptoms/conditions.  The Mindbody Prescription: Healing the Body, Healing the Pain is considered one of the proverbial Bibles to this approach.

Sarno's work began in studying chronic back pain and, while his work is certainly illuminating in that very specific field, he later discovered that chronic mindbody symptoms were not limited only to the back.  This kind of pain can (and does) appear everywhere in the body and, sometimes, it's not pain at all.  Sarno suggests that even conditions like digestive issues, allergies, and Raynaud's (all things that affect me) could be due to mindbody disorders.  Maybe yes, maybe no, but I see no harm in considering this possibility.  As a book, The Mindbody Prescription can get rather technical at times, but I can hang.  While I would recommend it to someone suffering from any type of chronic pain that has been enigmatic to biomedical practitioners, I know that the type of personality (e.g. mine!) that is prone to mindbody symptoms can easily become frustrated by the pedantic nature of the book.  Perhaps knowing that ahead of time -and accepting that certain parts may be tricky to follow without an extensive background in researching the medical terms used- is enough to get folks like myself through the muck and mire of a book that can occasionally be as extraneous as this longass sentence.

The bottom lines:

• Both of the above books are excellent resources that I'd strongly recommend for anyone who experiences "unexplained" chronic symptoms.
• After finishing the workbook, I joined Curable.  I use the app regularly for education, meditation, and journaling prompts.  It's great and I like the bite-sized exercises that users can access as often as needed/desired.
• After finishing the Sarno book, I joined Curable's classes/groups.  It's an additional subscription charge (boo!) but it gives me access to classes (both live and pre-recorded), support groups with "people like me", and is still far less expensive than one-on-one therapy.  So far, it has been quite cathartic.
• I love learning.  This journey has been so very fascinating in a number of ways and I'm grateful to know what I know.  (I just wish it had been on someone else's body, not mine!)  I hope I never need to share this knowledge with loved ones but, if I do, it's there and I'm ready to blather on to anyone who will listen.  
• I hate that I'm in this situation and have needed to learn what I have learned but an education is one thing that no one can take away from you.
• I have hit some very low points over the past couple of years but I am steadily coming back.  To be sure, I have had wonderful support from friends and family -without whom much of my progress would have been far more difficult (or even impossible)- but I credit myself with the vast majority of what I have accomplished, learned, and conquered.  Not doctors.  Not surgeons.  Not nurses.  Not physical therapists.  Not acupuncturists.  Not specialists.  Not even family or friends.  Me. 
• All of this has given me a great level of appreciation for myself and what I can withstand because I am fucking resilient, not to mention a goddam delight.
• Sometimes hope can be forced, phony, and toxic.  And it's OK to let go of it and embrace the darkness when you need to do that.  Well-meaning people who tell you not to give up hope are rarely those who have had reason to.  And if they have, well then they must be unicorns and good for them or whatever.  But they are not you, and you do what you want.  Plus, they probably lack the highly intelligent but dark sense of humor that you have, so they will never find the idea of having a life-threatening illness in a system that is designed to keep us sick as hilarious as it is.  Their loss.

Still a work in progress...but aren't we all until we die?

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, by Mark Manson

Imagine a self-important fratty pretending to be a guru and doling out douche-baggy life advice unsolicited at a house party.

Congratulations, you have just read Mark Manson's The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck.

But wait a sec...  Does what he is espousing actually hold water?  Wait, WHAAAA??

Yeah.  It actually kinda does.

In his 2016 book, blogger-author Mark Manson offers "a counterintuitive approach to living a good life", arguing that there are many things about which to give a fuck...but not everything is worthy of our fucks.

I once heard that Finland was one of the (if not the singular) happiest nations in the world.  When questioned about this, most Finns were surprised to hear themselves described this way.  They didn't consider themselves happier than the rest of the world; in fact, some of those questioned considered themselves to be quite broody.  It wasn't until someone somewhere along the line mentioned that, because their expectations are much lower than the rest of the western world's, it was easier to achieve a measure of "success" by their own standards.  We aren't all special or extraordinary.  In fact, if we were, then no one would be special or extraordinary at all.  Are you a janitor?  Great.  An accountant?  Fine.  A high school principal?  Good for you.  The fact that most Finns have realistic expectations for their lives allows them to achieve success more readily, without feeling that they have to accomplish something world shaking in order to be valuable people.  (Side note:  Finland even celebrates its own National Failure Day every year.)  You might say that they lack the gung-ho spirit that we so value in the U.S., but at least they are in touch with reality.  

Anyway, TSAONGAF is rather in line with this philosophy.  We can't all be great.  It doesn't mean we aren't valuable or deserving of love or worthy human beings, rather that most of us will not achieve some colossal magnitude of greatness in our lives.  And that's OK.

You might also describe parts of this book as advice on how to pick your battles.  Maybe not everything is worth your time, effort, attention...or fucks.  Some things are, and you should dedicate your proverbial fucks to those things but, just like we are not all special, neither are the things demanding our attention.

Manson talks a lot about pain and values in his book.  Pain and suffering, while difficult, are formative; change often only comes through such experiences.  Values such as pleasure, material success, dominance through violence/manipulation, being liked by everybody, and always being right are undesirable while values such as honesty, innovation, self-respect, creativity, curiosity, charity, and humility are good.  There is a difference between fault and responsibility and, even when things aren't our fault (e.g. being the victim of a robbery), we are still responsible for our subsequent choices (e.g. succumbing to victimhood or rebuilding our lives).  Another pervasive theme is that of entitlement, which he defines as the idea "that we're somehow unlike everyone else and that the rules must be different for us".  These are among some of the themes addressed throughout this book, though this list of topics is certainly not exhaustive.  

In every chapter/section, Manson helpfully shares stories -both his own and others'- to further illustrate his points anecdotally.  Some stories make you roll your eyes at his obnoxiousness, but he often (quite humbly and surprisingly) comes around to point out his own errors in ways you might not have anticipated.  While I do not disagree with his ultimate points in this book, I do question his credentials.  I'm not sure that being a successful blogger in the 2010s qualifies him as an expert, but I am interested in his perspective.  In general, he makes some excellent points and it's nice to be reminded -even crudely- that some things are just not worth our fucks.

At the end of the day, if you're willing to read it as nothing more than someone else's worldview -one that may indeed prove beneficial- and don't mind some naughty words, it's worth a read.  Clocking in at just a hair over 200 pages, it's an easy book to pick up and read in installments.  Solid toilet reading, actually...and I think Mark Manson would like that idea.

The Woman They Could Not Silence, by Kate Moore

It has been a minute!  I started this space about a year ago by playing catch-up on the books that I had already read in 2023, and I'm beginning 2024 in the same way.  Illness, injury, a dozen or so holidays, and a move to a new home have all catapulted to the center of my family priorities, and I'm just now beginning to exhale for the first time since mid-October.

As a result of all of the tumult, I have resorted to listening to a lot more books in audio format.  Sit-down reading time has been quite limited with all of the activity and appointments pertaining to the above excuses and, to be honest, my current hard copy selection is a slow moving one.  In spite of its haunting and intriguing plotline, The Marble Faun is tough to get into.  I believe I began it last fall, and am not quite halfway through it.  (I'll get there...)

But audiobooks!  While I'm certainly not new to this format (I've been listening to books since they were available on cassette), I haven't listened to a recorded reading of a book in perhaps a decade or more.  I know I'm behind the times, but a couple of friends recently introduced me to the Libby app, and now I'm hooked.  Months and months ago, one of these friends recommended that I read (listen to) a historical book about an individual whose name was entirely unfamiliar to me. Having never even heard the name Elizabeth Packard, I was not entirely certain what to expect...that is, until I read the book's description:

"...another dark and dramatic but ultimately uplifting tale of a forgotten woman whose inspirational journey sparked lasting change for women's rights and exposed injustices that still resonate today.

1860:  As the clash between the states rolls slowly to a boil, Elizabeth Packard, housewife and mother of six, is facing her own battle.  The enemy sits across the table and sleeps in the next room.  Her husband of twenty-one years is plotting against her because he feels increasingly threatened -- by Elizabeth's intellect, independence, and unwillingness to stifle her own thoughts.  So Theophilus makes a plan to put his wife back in her place.  One summer morning, he has her committed to an insane asylum.

The horrific conditions inside the Illinois State Hospital in Jacksonville, Illinois are overseen by Dr. Andrew McFarland, a man who will prove to be even more dangerous to Elizabeth than her traitorous husband.  But most disturbing is that Elizabeth is not the only sane woman confined to the institution.  There are many rational women on her ward who tell the same story:  they've been committed not because they need medical treatment, but to keep them in line -- conveniently labeled 'crazy' so their voices are ignored.

No one is willing to fight for their freedom and, disenfranchised both by gender and the stigma of their supposed madness, they cannot possibly fight for themselves.  But Elizabeth is about to discover that the merit of losing everything is that you then have nothing to lose..."

What more could I add to that description?  But what baffles me most is how have we never heard this story before?  

If you read the book, you will clearly see that "Dr." Andrew McFarland is a monstrous asshole yet, from 1968 to 2023, he had a mental health center named after him in Illinois.  (Spoiler alert:  They justly renamed the hospital the Elizabeth Parsons Ware Packard Mental Health Center in August 2023.)  How?  How is it possible for a man who openly accepted -sometimes encouraged- the physical and mental abuse of patients (I'll save the sordid details for the book) to be so renowned that it took us nearly two centuries to recognize that he should not have a mental hospital named after him?  A man who once said that patients were never to be trusted, and who openly stole their mail?  A man who willingly admitted people (women) to the institution who were not insane and attempted to hold them incarcerated indefinitely? 

I'll tell you how.  Andrew McFarland was powerful and celebrated.  He was a doctor who answered to no one.  He operated with impunity.  He was white in mid-nineteenth century America.  He was a man.

Whether you consider yourself a bra burner, a Mennonite, a raging lesbian who loves hiking a little too much, or a devout Muslim, one thing is true for us all.  Women have been denied our own history.  In the past couple of years, I have been poring over books and publications that tell the stories of women who, until that moment, were completely foreign to me.  Sure, we've all heard of Susan B. Anthony and Nellie Bly, but how much do we really know about these women?  A paragraph in a history book is hardly enough to explain.  These are the names we glossed over in school for their contributions to society during their respective times, but do any of us know exactly how they changed their worlds -and subsequently ours- for the better?  What did they change?  How did they do it?  What was the cost?  

Perhaps another way of considering the question of how well we know our own history is to consider all of the names we can list of famous men of the past.  Go ahead.  Write them down.  Now list the famous historical women.  There's no comparison when it comes to sheer volume of one over the other.  But let's take it a step further.  How many of those people -men or women- were ostracized?  How many of them were considered heroes?  How do we view them today?  Are they represented as bold world changers or as villains?

Elizabeth Packard had her flaws.  In my opinion, the most glaring fault she had was to be too forgiving of those who had destroyed her life and viciously ripped her children from her.  She was well liked by her community, an excellent homemaker, a doting mother, a devoted wife, and a cook of high praise - even Theophilus (her prick of a husband) said she had no equal.  But perhaps all these learned men were right.  She was, after all, a slightly different shade of Christian than Theophilus (he was Presbyterian, she attended the Methodist church), so she probably was insane and deserved to be locked up for life.

Crazy.  Insane.  Hysterical.  Witch.  All words that are almost exclusively applied to women throughout history, and even today.

I found myself able to identify with Elizabeth in so many ways.  From the first pages of the book, I knew we had a lot in common: moms who fiercely love our kids and genuinely enjoy teaching them and watching them grow; a love of reading, writing, and intellectual discourse; mouthy and outspoken; compelled to defend the underdog; creatures of habit and routine, even in the face of darkness.  We're both stubborn and stalwart Midwestern bitches who enjoy a good flex (readers will note her unwillingness to walk to her demise whilst still maintaining her dignity and propriety as defined by the time period).  At the time of her incarceration, she was close to my current age.  Even her diminutive stature, dark hair, and long features remind me of my own.  I feel like we could have been friends were it not for the 170 years separating our births.

And yet, unlike me, Elizabeth lived in a time where women, minorities, and the mentally ill genuinely did not have a voice.  Sure, it's an ongoing struggle that we all face today, but it pales in comparison to the norms of Civil War America.  Once she finally got out of the asylum, she could not afford to go scorched earth.  In order to enact the changes that she desired (amounting to dozens of legislative bills and laws at the federal level, as well as in numerous states across the country), she had to do so operating under the same set of rules and principles that existed prior to her imprisonment.  The reality was bleak: one wrong word, one wrong look and she could be sent back to the asylum to wither and die, forgotten by family, friends, and history.

So why is it that I had never heard of her?  I'm not a historian, but should that be a prerequisite for knowing about major players in history?  Elizabeth Packard's track record certainly qualifies her as a major player.  I had a public school education and attended a state university, but should I have to take a women's history course in order to learn about some of these people?  Why?  Aren't they important enough for regular history?  Or is "regular" history reserved only for the history of presidents and generals and the occasional token woman?  If that's the case, then maybe we ought to call them men's history classes.  (Now now, don't be absurd.)

The Woman They Could Not Silence was nothing short of inspirational.  Author Kate Moore masterfully crafts the book to read more like a novel than a biography, never suffering the reader (listener) to lose interest.  The adversities Elizabeth Packard faced were noteworthy by any metric, and this "little woman" conquered every single one.  I'm sure she struggled within herself and among trusted loved ones.  I know she dealt with depression brought on by the realities of her existence.  And yet she persevered eloquently and righteously, making real changes all over the country for the forgotten people who suffered in silence behind the iron doors of the asylums.

And Andrew McFarland?  Well, that bastard continued successfully for a time before choosing that "same-day shipping to the Lord" (my friend's words, not mine).  He hanged himself at the asylum where he worked.  But he was the one with the mental health center named for him.

Until now.

More Than A Body, by Lindsay Kite and Lexie Kite - PART TWO

I have opted to split this particular book into two separate reviews.  More Than A Body is a dense publication addressing the issues of body image, the objectification of the feminine body, and how these important topics influence our collective and individual psyches today.  PART ONE will outline the book's Introduction and first three chapters.  PART TWO will cover the final three chapters, as well as an overall reflection.  In between each post, you will find yet another -separate- review for an unrelated novel...because I wanted to do it that way.

Note that all quotes (both direct and paraphrased) come from this publication unless otherwise noted.  I have spent a great deal of time summarizing and recapping the points that I personally wanted to highlight and, although I'm sure that I have not followed standard citation protocol to the letter, I want to give credit where it is due.  

PART TWO:  CHAPTERS 4-6, REFLECTION

Chapter 4:  From Divided to United as Women

The fourth chapter of More Than A Body is dedicated to how women are often programmed to see each other as competitors instead of allies.  The result of our cultural upbringing can cause us to "feel defined by how we appear, and so we define everyone else, friend or foe, by how they appear, positively or negatively. [...]  The insidious objectification of girls and women by other girls and women often looks like self-comparison and competition, questioning and commenting, policing and patrolling".

Perhaps the most awakening piece of this chapter is how well-meaning body compliments often do more harm than good.  Yes, you read that right.  Positive comments on someone's appearance, while seemingly benign or uplifting, are still objectifying.  "They perpetuate the idea that we are most valued for our looks and always being evaluated accordingly [...] most of us are complicit without even knowing it. [...]  If you give looks-based comments the power to build people up, you reinforce their power to tear people down."  

Consider this:  All my life, people have commented on how small and "tiny" I am.  Over the years, I've even garnered (loving) nicknames reflecting this.  Year after year, friends and family would fawn over how cute and petite I was, how jealous they were of my skinny little body, and so on.  It was all meant to be kind and I took it that way.  (I still do.)  It gave me a sense of validation.  I felt valued.  It felt good.  Being cute and tiny became a major part of my identity.

But then I got pregnant.

Throughout my pregnancy, I vigilantly monitored my weight gain.  Nurses at my regular check-ups would comment on how jealous they were of me for only weighing X pounds, even at Y months pregnant.  I was "all belly", like a marshmallow on toothpicks.  My itty bitty figure was a badge that I wore proudly and I absolutely agonized over any weight gain, knowing that it was going to be difficult to lose it.  After the birth of my daughter, something became rapidly clear:  I was going to need reconstructive surgery due, in large part, to the negligent pre-natal and delivery care I'd received from my "doctor".  My body was so broken that working out to lose the accursed baby weight was practically impossible.  My self-esteem plummeted, I became depressed (on top of the PPD and hormonal changes!), and my psyche suffered greatly.  My "identity" was suddenly ripped from me because I simply couldn't maintain it due to very normal and natural causes (pregnancy, childbirth, age, etc.).  But, thanks to a world that brainwashes women into feeling guilty if they can't look pre-pregnant within days of delivering a human baby out their twats (or violently ripped from their abdomens), my expectations were demolished.  And I felt like it was somehow my fault.  (Ludicrous, right?)

"Too often, the compliments we receive about our bodies revolve around the ways women have been taught to exist in our world - by taking up as little space as possible."  Being "tiny" was fun, but it wasn't lasting.  It wasn't life-giving or fulfilling or even meaningful in any way.  It was frivolous and, whatever weight I didn't carry on my body, I carried as a burden to remain a certain weight and size.  It was unhealthy, despite outward appearances of "looking fit".  The obsession with calorie counting at every meal or snack, calorie expenditure at every workout - it took the joy out of eating and being active.  My life was a chore full of steps to be checked off a list.  As I've gotten older (and larger), my focus has slowly, but steadily, shifted towards my health.  What can my body DO? (Answer:  It created a friggin' life, what can't it do?)  What does it need in order to do that?  (Answer:  More nutrient dense calories.  Time and space to move and become stronger.  The freedom to look however it needs to look in order to accomplish my goals of becoming more as a human being who gets shit done, not a "human being looked at".)

[Side note:  Lindsay and Lexie Kite do acknowledge how good it can feel to get -and to give- this type of well-meaning compliment about someone's body or appearance.  While they do not vilify this sort of behavior, they do suggest making changes to how we validate one another, focusing more on acknowledging others for their work, kindness, character, or other aspects of their humanity.]

From division to compassion to objectifying compliments, one of the most important takeaways from this chapter is found in the Kites' suggested ways to build up and prepare younger generations of girls.  

From an early age, little ones are taught that girls are here to be looked at.  This is reflected even in the clothing marketed to children and families.  Writer Sara Clemence published a piece in the New York Times detailing this gender divide in the fashion industry, noting how easy it was to find practical clothing for her son (think: pockets, enforced knees, etc.), but how difficult it was to find equally practical clothing for her daughter.  "I found girls' sections filled with lightweight leggings, scoop-neck tops, and embellished shoes.  I scoured the internet for girls' pants with capacious pockets and reinforced knees, and found maddeningly few options.  I eventually realized that, even in an age of female fighter pilots and #MeToo, boys' clothes are largely designed to be practical, while girls' are designed to be pretty... It's not just about avoiding skinned knees, but also the subtle and discouraging message that's woven right into girls' garments: you are dressed to decorate, not to do."

As we dig deeper into the messages we are sending girls and young women, we must also consider the objectification set in place by archaic and sexist dress codes.  While they are often created with good intentions, consider the ridiculousness of putting the burden being a "stumbling block" for a boy (better yet, for a GROWNASS MAN!) on a young girl - a CHILD.  "Society sets rules to regulate the ways female bodies are allowed to appear with the intention of protecting the male bodies and minds that apparently need to be externally (and not internally) controlled."  What, then, about protecting female bodies and minds?  What messages are we sending young girls -many of whom have not yet considered their own bodies as "sexualized"- when we tell them that their bodies are threatening, distracting, and provocative?  By implementing one-sided dress codes, we are removing all responsibility for personal accountability from boys and placing the burden squarely on girls' shoulders.  "If you are teaching the girls in your lives that the primary objective of modesty is to keep themselves covered so boys and men don't think sexual thoughts about them, then you are teaching girls they are responsible for other people's thoughts and that they are primarily sexual objects in need of covering."  This does not mean that there should never be dress codes anywhere, but it is important for them to be equal for boys and girls.

"Girls learn the most important thing about them is how they look.

Boys learn the most important thing about girls is how they look.

Girls look at themselves.

Boys look at girls.

Girls are held responsible for boys looking at them.

Girls change how they look.

Boys keep looking.

The problem isn't how girls look.

The problem is how everyone looks at girls."

Chapter 5:  Reclaiming Health and Fitness for Yourself

Chapter 5 spends a great deal of time debunking the myth that thin and fit are synonymous.  As I mentioned in my own personal reflections on Chapter 4 (above), focusing on thinness is not the same as focusing on what my (your) body can accomplish.  The Kites rightly point to world-class athletes, Olympians, and other unarguably fit people "don't always look like (or weigh like) our cultural ideals for fit bodies".  Yet figure competitions and bikini fitness shows persist with contestants claiming health and wellness.  "These competitions don't demonstrate cardiovascular fitness, stamina, strength, metabolic health, or any other indicator of physical fitness, just a standardized ideal look that is appraised by a panel of critical judges and an ogling audience.  The tales of what happens behind the scenes and in preparation for those leanness-focused events are extreme, and not at all health promoting.  No legitimate doctor recommends severe dehydration, malnutrition, laxative and stimulant abuse, and emergency-level exhaustion for anyone's health regimen, but those are often part of achieving the winning competition aesthetic.  Visual appeal is absolutely not the best way to evaluate health."

By addressing the realities of health and the myths behind movements such as Thinspo, Fitspo, and even "before and after" imagery, we get a clearer picture of the deliberate and profit-driven conductors of this madness train.  Dieting companies and industries gain by our discouragement and feelings of failure, both of which are certainties when trying to achieve an unrealistic goal.  Our failure = their success.  Not cool.  

Even the longstanding go-to tool of all doctors' offices -the sacred body mass index (BMI)- is incorrectly yet continually used.  If you have a copy of the book, pages 210-214 detail the flaws with the BMI scale being used and promoted by the CDC.  They include, but are not limited to: not factoring gender, race, age, body frame, muscle mass, and the fact that it is intended for large diagnostic studies on general populations (not individuals).  And this is the tool being used to both screen and diagnose.  

Rather than focusing on our health from the outside, the Kites suggest focusing on it from within, arguing that "a person's level of physical activity is a better indicator of their health and fitness than their BMI or weight".  By shifting our attention from supposedly "fit" bodies in favor of practicing healthy behaviors (eating a balanced diet, regular exercise, avoiding harmful substances), we can better evaluate how health and wellness feel versus how they (allegedly) look.

Chapter 6:  A Resilient Reunion

In the final chapter of their book, Lexie and Lindsay Kite examine what they call "the business of body image".  They begin by defining terms, explaining the difference between the questions "How do you feel about your body?" and "How do you feel about the way your body looks?"  Ultimately, the expanded definitions of "beauty" in our culture are a step in the right direction, but these efforts to be more inclusive of all body types being considered "beautiful" fall short.  In fact, they often cause even more harm.  "We believe women are suffering not only because of the ways beauty is being defined; we are suffering because we are being defined by beauty. [...] Expanded ideas of which bodies are considered 'beautiful' or acceptable are still keeping a focus on how those bodies look. [...] Validating and appreciating the diversity of bodies that exist, while inclusive and helpful on the one hand, still centers the appearance of women's bodies as their most important feature."

Expanding on the business of body image, we are next introduced to the concept of commodified body positivity.  "This profit-driven knockoff looks a lot like something truly groundbreaking for women, but it's most often a simple rebranding of a product, service, or company, and these companies often continue to marginalize and objectify women and profit from their insecurity."  The Kites point towards ad campaigns driven by companies like Unilever, services and products sold by Weight Watchers and others in the dieting industry, and even the notorious and nefarious Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue expanding which body types are acceptable to pose nude/nearly nude.  This is not empowering for women.  Despite being "branded as body positivity and [subsequently] applauded as progress for women [...], We can't let the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue or any other historically sexist medium be our barometer for women's advancement.  [...]  We want inclusion and representation, not equal-opportunity objectification."

Amen.

But it isn't just the mega companies or the perverts behind Sports Illustrated who stand to gain from our objectification.  Social media is rife with influencers, bloggers, and Instagrammers who stand to gain from this commodified body positivity.  Getting likes, comments, and engaging followers on their platforms becomes currency for these individuals, not to mention "whatever sponsored product is tagged in the photo".  Another predator?  The cosmetic surgery industry.  The list of those who profit from our insecurities as women is endless, and certainly is not in the service of women's best interests.  "Objectification hurts us.  It minimizes us, it distracts us, it drains us.  It always has."  And it always will.

As they wrap up the final chapter of their book, Lexie and Lindsay Kite offer some logical applications in reality of the ideas they present, suggesting that "disconnecting your hopes and dreams from your dream body also expands your own power to reach them".  The world's problems are not solved because you read this book, and people will continue to objectify you.  Sadly, that is not something we will ever be able to change completely.  We must still live in reality, but with a new set of tools designed to serve us in ways that enable us to make better decisions for ourselves about how we interact with the world.  Isolation is unrealistic (not to mention unhealthy!), but the idea is for all people to "sit with the sure knowledge that your body is good" and to "deeply understand that your body is only a fraction of your identity".

Reflection (Final Thoughts)

More Than A Body is not the final solution to the issues surrounding body image in our society.  It doesn't claim to be, but it certainly does serve as a formative point from which I hope many people will find encouragement, as I did.  Still, there are three main problems that I have with the content and ideas proposed by the Kites:

1. It was long, redundant, and sometimes just boring.  This is why it took me soooooo long to get through this book.  Yes, it is dense and very, very important; that I do not argue.  However, it often felt beleaguering and repetitive, stating the same concepts time and time again.  Still, after centuries (millennia!) of having the "beauty = value" narrative drilled into us, I suppose I won't fault the people fighting the good fight 320ish pages of repetition in an attempt to remove all brainwashing.  It has given me a new lens through which to view my own happiness and sense of self.

2.  Lindsay and Lexie Kite deny the "obesity problem".  That's right.  They practically deny it completely and often refer to it sarcastically with quotation marks.  While I am 100% in agreement with them that having fat on the body is both good and necessary, our visions subsequently diverge.  In a noble attempt to disengage susceptible people from eating disorders or obsession over what are indeed very normal and needed features of the (usually female) body, I fear that the Kites have swung too far in the other direction.  People are overweight and obese in this country, and in many other developed nations, regardless of how you define those weight-related terms.  

While the definitions of "obese" and "fat" may be fluid  (the commonly used BMI scale is grossly flawed, as the Kites rightly point out), this excess weight affects other important aspects of our health.  (AND our economy!  Have you heard about how the cost of plane tickets is on the rise, partly due to the fact that more maintenance measures are required to support the extra weight in the sky???)  Although both Lindsay and Lexie do place a measure emphasis on healthy eating and exercise, they spend far more time rebuffing the labels of "fat" and redefining "obesity".  This may be necessary, but what they fail to address is that many "fat" and/or "obese" people are not only malnourished, but undernourished.  Many of these folks are not getting all of the important nutrients the body requires for health and function, instead filling up on processed foods, sugary drinks, and other dangerous and detrimental substances labeled "food".  I do believe the Kites would agree with me on the issue of prioritizing health (which is not the same as being "skinny" or "looking fit"), but completely ignoring our weight as an aspect of our health is not the solution.  It may not be the tell-all indicator that modern western medicine would have us believe, but it still is an indicator.  To say so is not "fat-phobic" and it incenses me that my beliefs on this topic would cause some people to label me as such.  

Do genetics play into weight?  You bet.  Does lifestyle also contribute?  Sure as shit.   Just because weight is sometimes influenced by nature and a person's biological body type doesn't mean that it is never a result of lifestyle.  It isn't all or nothing.  They are not mutually exclusive.  To reject one form of disease (e.g. anorexia, bulimia) in favor of another (e.g. obesity, heart disease, diabetes) is irresponsible.  We must be able to hold both of these truths at once.  They aren't even contradictory.  

3.  I reject the notion that a non-biological woman has the same experience as a biological woman.  Period.  Throughout the book, Lindsay and Lexie Kite make efforts to extend the shared burden of women feeling valued or devalued based on their levels of perceived beauty with non-conforming people, or with those who self-identify as women.  I do not accept this.

To be clear, I do believe that transgenderism, as a concept, exists; that there are indeed people who are born with the "wrong" parts and who have every right to explore what it might be like to live as the opposite sex.  (Spoiler alert, boys: being a woman ain't pretty.)  Personally, I couldn't give two proper shits about what grownass adults decide to do with their own bodies (remember The Lizardman?) and I don't understand why this is a public conversation beyond its reach into childhood and adolescence.  But to pretend to know what it is to be a woman when you are not is offensive, insulting, belittling, devaluing, minimizing, and is the antithesis to feminist philosophy.

In my own short life, men have both denied and appropriated my ideas, my intelligence, my voice, my earning potential, my body, my health, my agency, and my history as a woman; I am simply one of many!  So forgive me if I take issue with a man -whether he identifies as one or not- who seeks to claim my uniquely feminine experience, but my identity is not patriarchy's final frontier.  He is free to become a woman without judgment from me, but don't you dare act like you've always been one by turning my femininity into a caricature.  Bitch, I don't talk like that.  Now lemme show you where that tampon actually goes.

[Side note:  I fully understand that my centrist views and rhetoric may cause people on both sides of the debate to become frustrated with me or to write me off.  Still, I do not believe it is the genuinely transgender folks who are making all the noise in this current shit show, and they have my genuine compassion and support as louder people turn their honest stories into a mockery.]

Do men have negative feelings about the way their bodies are perceived?  Of course!  Do non-conforming people have body image woes?  Yes!  We are all human and experience some level of this in our daily lives.  We all deserve love and respect and the ability to experience the world as souls residing within our bodies, not as onlookers observing and judging our own bodies.  But non-biological women cannot -cannot- claim to have the same experience as biological women.  It doesn't make their experiences less valid, but they are not the same.

Ultimately, I feel that this book does far more good than it does harm.  I can respectfully disagree with the authors on a few points while still deeply appreciating their work.  To speak up against inequality always take courage, particularly if one does so publicly and in opposition to those with power.  Regardless of our response to texts such as More Than A Body, the world will continue to objectify women.  "It is vital to recognize that any culture that views and values women as objects will continue to degrade and devalue us whether we are playing by its rules or not."  Fortunately, many of us (though not all) have the privilege to opt out.  It may be uncomfortable or have consequences, but it seems worth it if we can model to our daughters, nieces, granddaughters, little sisters, and all the littles we encounter from here to eternity what it looks like to live as though we are deserving of love and happiness, regardless of what our bodies look like.  (What a notion!)  What better legacy to pass on to younger generations than "a new, more habitable and joyful environment for ourselves and everyone else - one where we have the freedom and security that come from not just believing that our bodies look good, but knowing that our bodies are good, regardless of how they look"?

More Than A Body, by Lindsay Kite and Lexie Kite - PART ONE

I have opted to split this particular book into two separate reviews.  More Than A Body is a dense publication addressing the issues of body image, the objectification of the feminine body, and how these important topics influence our collective and individual psyches today.  PART ONE will outline the book's Introduction and first three chapters.  PART TWO will cover the final three chapters, as well as an overall reflection.  In between each post, you will find yet another -separate- review for an unrelated novel...because I wanted to do it that way.

Note that all quotes (both direct and paraphrased) come from this publication unless otherwise noted.  I have spent a great deal of time summarizing and recapping the points that I personally wanted to highlight and, although I'm sure that I have not followed standard citation protocol to the letter, I want to give credit where it is due.  

PART ONE:  INTRODUCTION, CHAPTERS 1-3

Your body is an instrument, not an ornament.

As a girl growing into womanhood in the occidental world, I have long struggled with body image issues.  My story is not in the least bit unique insofar as the vast majority of women and girls in this country face this same struggle.  Day after day, women and men alike are exposed to images of the "ideal beauty" and the -somehow always just out of reach- #goals aesthetic for the feminine body.  We are taught that our bodies determine our value:  to be beautiful is to be worthy, to be ugly is to be less than.  Even in a culture that condemns fat shaming (arguably to a detriment) and promotes body acceptance, beauty is still placed on a pedestal as something to be obtained and achieved.  At all costs.

In the meantime, "we grow up seeing idealized and sexualized female bodies presented in media as parts for others' viewing pleasure, even in the most mundane or unexpected circumstances."  If you need further evidence of this, you need search no further than Jean Kilbourne's latest edition of Killing Us Softly 4 (free on YouTube).

Our sense of self is split as we become both the viewer and the viewed.  This duality is perpetuated while "we watch from afar as our bodies become our primary means of identity and value."

Self-objectification, the "constant mental body monitoring" that, ultimately, influences how we feel about our bodies, "is informed by a lifetime of messages tying a woman's worth to her appearance."  (See again:  Killing Us Softly 4.)

As twin sisters and PhDs Lindsay and Lexie Kite lay out in their book More Than A Body (above quotes all coming from the Introduction), this sort of brainwashing is pervasive and dangerous.  The idea that our beauty determines our worth sounds absurd but is, at its core, an insidious truth about what we have been taught as children -and continue to teach our daughters!- as a collective whole.  Using a vivid metaphor of the "Sea of Objectification", the Kites argue that "the problem of negative body image then extends to overall negative self-image, becoming a more comprehensive problem than beauty-focused solutions can tackle. [...]  A more effective approach to healing our body image issues needs to reflect the understanding that focusing on the appearance of our bodies is the problem. [...]  Positive body image isn't believing your body looks good; it is knowing your body is good, regardless of how it looks."  

Throughout the following chapters, readers will examine the world around them -from advertising and marketing, to social media and the language we use when speaking to and about one another- through a critical lens.  By challenging ourselves to shift our perspectives, we can perhaps regain the healthy mindset we had as children, "whose lives and hopes and imaginations weren't distracted or limited by envisioning how they looked."

Chapter 1:  Rising with Body Image Resilience

Many of us don't consider ourselves obsessed with our body image.  I certainly did not and, in the traditional sense, I still don't consider myself that way.  I'm not on point with the latest clothing trends (my most recent purchase being a giant narwhal onesie for adults), I almost never wear make-up (I'm lazy and I hate how it feels on my face), and I hate doing my hair (as evidenced by every picture of me over the past decade).  However, if you were to ask me how I feel about my body, my default would be to list all of the things I would change about it.  I'd be taller, for one.  My hips would be narrower.  I wouldn't be so hairy, and the hair on my head would be an entirely different texture.  I would have the body I had in my early twenties (about 25-30 pounds lighter than I am now, which would not be a healthy weight).  My toes would be a different shape (oddly specific, right?).  I have one tooth that would be slightly larger and sit a little differently.  I wouldn't have sensitive skin.  My arms would look as strong as they actually are.  I wouldn't have cellulite or the weird wrinkles that developed above my knees after the birth of my oldest child.  My cheeks wouldn't be starting to sag into the inevitable jowls of my future.  The scar where I had my reconstructive surgeries several years ago wouldn't pucker on the right side.  My fingers wouldn't be so stubby (somehow they seem to have gotten shorter and thicker with age?).  If only I could change those things about myself, then I'd be happy.  

In this first chapter, we are introduced to the disturbing concept of normative discontent as the normal and acceptable truth that girls and women feel bad about their bodies most of the time.  My list of grievances with my body might seem weird or scrutinous to you but, if you're a woman, I bet your list is equally so.  Like me, you are probably your own worst critic.  We are familiar with feeling uncomfortable with or disappointed in our bodies and, as a result, we constantly self-monitor.  Consider:  When was the last time you walked by a mirror and didn't check some aspect of your appearance, even mindlessly?  Did you judge yourself -for better or worse- by what you saw?  Is there any part of your body that you dislike or even hate (instead of hating the profit-driven industries that benefit from your body not fitting a singularly specific mold)?  We will all encounter images or experiences that make us feel bad about our bodies from time to time.  

The goal suggested by the Kite twins is simply to live, instead of watching ourselves live.  This goal certainly resonates.

Chapter 2:  Critiquing and Creating Your Media Environment

I found some of the anecdotes and examples used in this chapter to be surprisingly poignant and personal, almost as if they were written for me.  As we objectively scrutinize (instead of simply scrolling through) the images we encounter all around us or the heavily curated posts on social media, one thing becomes glaringly obvious:  "Most media messages about women's bodies are based on the idea that our happiness, health, power, and relationship status depend upon our consumability - how good we look to others and how irresistibly sexy we are. [...] they normalize our discomfort and make us feel abnormal and subpar in our natural states."  

Yikes.  

Readers are led on a tour -body part by body part- through the unnatural states of "beauty" from which companies profit from our deconstructed parts in need of "fixing".  Standards in hair, brows, eyelashes, eyes, armpits, legs, body hair of all kinds, skin, weight and shape, and cellulite are explored -- right alongside the double standard women face that men traditionally do not in each of these areas.  I submit:  When was the last time a man was judged as "gross" for not shaving the very natural hair that grows in his pits?  Called out for "going native" in his pubic area?  Undergone the often painful process(es) of threading, microblading, waxing, plucking, or tattooing his eyebrows?  Yes, I'm sure it has happened, but it would be highly unusual indeed.

Fear not!  Everything natural about us can be "fixed" through products and purchases!  And if not there, then through digital manipulation.  The most frightening part?  "The earlier we can be introduced to the sea of objectification and feel at home there, the more profitable these companies and ideals will be."  I don't know about you, but I feel deep seated rage when I consider that some rich CEO seeks to profit from my daughter's manufactured and curated insecurities.  

[Quick aside:  We often talk about this "ideal beauty", so let's really consider her.  More than likely, she is tall (but not too tall), thin, tiny waist, androgynously narrow hips, dolphin smooth but with a head of luxurious, effortlessly wavy hair, soft skin (but firm in all the right places), zero cellulite, no blemishes, perky breasts.  If you were to zoom in on this description, you might notice something.  This woman with her tiny waist, thinness, minimal body hair, androgynous hips (...) is essentially a child with boobs.  Ew.]

When we realize that "the same sources that warped [our] body image in the first place" are responsible for our saturation with images and messaging that promote these unhealthy and unrealistic ideals for profit, we can actually find relief.  The "ideal beauty" above can and does exist in nature, but she is a very small percentage of women with this genetic body type.  Most of us will never look like her.  "We would all know if any beauty or weight-loss miracles existed.  They don't."  

For these reasons, authors Lindsay and Lexie Kite urge readers to [paraphrased]:

• Question and consider what you view, what you post, and the consequences of the time you spend submerged in objectifying ideals and trying to emulate them.
• Learn the reasons you turn to media that you might not even be aware of -- escape, boredom, avoiding more important things, self-punishment, anxiety, etc.  (They suggest intermittent media fasting.)  Focus instead on what you see, feel, and experience in real life, in your own body, face-to-face with other.
• Spare kids from facing these challenges [self-comparison, objectification, and the insatiable desire for validation] for as long as possible.  Err on the side of caution by shielding kids from their own independent social media access for as long as possible.  Then, web access should be monitored, restricted, and lovingly guided.

Chapter 3:  From Self-Objectification to Self-Actualization

Chapter 3 begins by focusing on how we, as women, constantly slip outside of ourselves to monitor and evaluate our bodies.  Day after day, countless times each day, we become detached from our whole selves and are left feeling "disconnected from [our] own joy, pleasure, focus, full capabilities, and fulfillment [...]  Self-objectification is the invisible prison of picturing yourself being looked at instead of just fully living."  This effort is both endless and burdensome, with research showing that this constant attention drains us of both our physical and mental energy.

I sent a text to my cousin the other day.  In it, I shared with her that I had recently stumbled upon some photos of myself ranging from about 10-20 years ago.  "You don't realize how much you've aged until the evidence is right in front of your face," I told her.  In those photos, I saw a young, slim, energetic-looking girl.  Her natural hair color is rich and dark and shines and has dimension -- differing vastly from my carefully selected hair color today.  No part of her sags or appears drab.  She wears make-up, her waist is tiny, I scarcely recognize her body as having once been my own as she teeters on being dangerously thin in some photos (those taken while she was in the peak of her running career).  Immediately, I was outside of myself -as the viewer and the viewed- and was lamenting the "loss" of that former aesthetic.  She is so much prettier than I am.  She > Me 

And I didn't even realize I was doing it until much, much later.

It is so easy to get sucked into this false reality where we compare ourselves to others, or even to our past selves, and determine our worth based on what we see.  This comparison to self is what the Kites refer to as Selfie-Objectification.  While I generally hate selfies, the same concept can be applied to past photos of oneself taken by another individual.  "Looking through your selfies [past photos] and evaluating your beauty to remind yourself of your value is the perfect illustration for describing the harmful state of self-objectification."

I had felt pretty in those photos I came across and shared with my cousin.  In most of them, I was well-dressed, perfectly coiffed, and made up for some event (weddings, parties, outings, etc.).  That certainly wasn't what I looked like every day and I can sure as shit tell you that I didn't feel beautiful every day.  Even then, when I was "pretty and perfect", I felt inadequate.  My body wasn't what I'd wanted it to be and I wouldn't find true happiness until it was.  Why not?  Because "body image is an inside issue, and no outside praise for how our bodies appear will ever provide long-lasting confidence and fulfillment."

One of the tragic side effects of self-comparison (whether to others or ourselves) and objectification is that it pits women against one another.  "If everyone is a competitor, no one is really on your team."  We not only objectify ourselves but each other as we compare and compete for happiness.  The tragedy continues as we fail to recognize that we even inhabit our own bodies.  "As adults, our imagined goals in life often include our goal bodies, and many of us can't envision our happiest, most fulfilled future selves without also imagining ourselves looking different ("better") from how we do now."  We fantasize about that tropical beach vacation, but we can't enjoy it without our bikini body.  Can you imagine putting photos from your trip on your family's Christmas card that don't look "beautiful" and showcase your flat tummy and thigh gap?  Remember, "You can be anything you want!  Girl power!  But you better look good doing it, or it doesn't count."

To combat these harmful habits, the Kites suggest turning to conscious self-reflection.  "Stop.  Stop scrolling, stop watching, stop measuring and evaluating and comparing."  Identifying our feelings, naming the triggers, and rethinking our reactions in a conscious way is both beneficial and healthy.  For example:  I saw those photos from my past and immediately felt inadequate, nostalgic, and guilty -- as though I had done something to "lose" that body.  The photos themselves may have been the obvious trigger, but not perusing old family pictures isn't exactly a healthy way to avoid these feelings of negativity.  Instead, I ought to find healthy ways to enjoy looking at old photos without being consumed by this supposed loss.  Instead of falling into depression and despair over how I look today, perhaps it would be better to shift my focus from my appearance (how I looked) to my experience (how I felt).  That was a really fun trip.  I remember how exciting it was when we went on our honeymoon to New Orleans.  I feel so grateful to have married my best friend.  Isn't that a bajillion times better than the self-piteous I wish I still could wear that dress.  My hair is drab now and I have to work really hard to make it "pretty".  My face looks so old now.  I wish I didn't have all the scars I do now.  My butt has gotten a lot bigger.  Blah blah blah. Shut up, Eeyore!

It is important to recognize the difference between "what is oppressive and what is creative self-expression or simply personal preference" when it comes to grooming choices.  "It is okay and normal to desire validation for how you present yourself to the world."  Taking inventory of how our choices make us feel about our overall worth is one of the first steps to finding this subjective balance for ourselves.  The notions of self-compassion, reconnecting with our "inner child", and exploring a spiritual sense of self are all additional steps suggested by the authors.  

Before taking an intermission from More Than A Body, I'd like to end with a few uplifting and inspiring quotes from the text:

"Your experiences in the waters of objectification are not that unique."

"Truly understand that your purpose, passion, and potential are not elevated or diminished by how you look on the path getting there."

"Your life is bigger than what you look like."

"Your reason for living isn't to be decorative."

"You deserve to feel comfortable in your own body."

Unwell Women, by Elinor Cleghorn

Hysterical.  Melancholic.  Has the "baby blues".  Neurotic.  Hormonal.  Complaining.  Hypochondriacal.  Nervous.  Loose.  Maladjusted.  Emotional.  Anxious.  Obsessive.  Psychosomatic.  Fragile.

Since the dawn of medicine, labels such as these have been slapped upon women in (often lazy) attempts to explain away their symptoms.  If you are a woman, chances are you have been described by at least one of these terms, probably more, during the course of your life.  I know I have.

About a year ago, I was listening to an episode of the podcast Breaking Down Patriarchy, where the host (Amy McPhie Allebest) and her guest were discussing the issue of the dismissal of female patients in medicine.  They were having a conversation over a new book called Unwell Women by a Dr. Elinor Cleghorn of Oxford.  I had never heard of this book nor of Elinor Cleghorn, but I had certainly experienced this dismissal firsthand on a plethora of occasions.  As the episode went on, I found myself feeling increasingly validated in my own personal encounters within the medical community.  I had to read this book!

It wasn't until many months later that I got my hands on a copy.  I dove right into it and very soon discovered that I was far from alone in my mistreatment and misdiagnoses.  From Hippocrates of Kos -the "father of medicine" himself- we get the oath sworn by all physicians to this day to "do no harm".  Conflictingly, in The Hippocratic Corpus (medical discourse based on the teachings of Hippocrates), physicians and followers seem to attribute all women's diseases to their reproductive functions.  After all, in ancient Greece, what other purpose did women serve beyond the reproductive and domestic spheres?

In Unwell Women, Dr. Cleghorn takes us on a medical journey from this point in history up to the present day (publication 2021), seamlessly weaving both anecdotal evidence and statistics to paint a picture of "misdiagnosis and myth in a man-made world".  It truly is an unbelievable trip: from the "wandering wombs" of ancient Greece to the sadistic torturing of women bearing a "witches mark" (ex: blemishes such as scars, moles, birthmarks, warts, pocks, etc.); from the sickening experimentation on enslaved women in the American South, to the complete dismissal of a woman's cry for help as she experienced acute postpartum depression; from the non-consensual sterilization of women of color, to the equally non-consensual lobotomies of women who "didn't behave".  Since there have been women, there has been medical discrimination, often with unspeakable consequences.

Throughout the book, Cleghorn returns time and again to the theme that "medicine must hear unwell women when they speak -- not as females weighed down by the myths of the man-made world, but as human beings".  She argues "patriarchal ideologies have clung insidiously to medical culture, practice, and knowledge.  The health and lives of all unwell women today are profoundly affected by this historical mythologizing.  It's there when our pain is minimized, our symptoms dismissed, our illnesses and diseases misdiagnosed, and our own bodies and voices distrusted".  The histories that she shares are both mind-blowing and heartbreaking.

So many of the common "women's ailments" that we hear of today are under-researched, leading to the dismissal of their symptoms as anxiety, psychosomatic, or even hypochondriacal.  Endometriosis, cystic fibroids, fibromyalgia, and lupus, rank high among these enigmatic diagnoses.  Autoimmune diseases -such as Multiple Sclerosis- serve as comprehensive examples of the gender bias so pervasive in modern medicine.  Today, we know that MS is three to four times more common in women than in men.  Yet "medicine assumed, for most of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, that MS predominantly affected men.  Of course, this was a misapprehension caused by medicine's insistence that men's neurological and motor symptoms were deserving of diagnostic attention, while women, with their delicate female nerves, must be manifesting such symptoms in their minds.  Gender bias still affects diagnoses of MS.  The disease begins with nonspecific symptoms that relapse and flare, including pain, fatigue, and muscle weakness, and it can be incredibly difficult, and long-winded, for sufferers to be correctly diagnosed.  Women with MS are particularly vulnerable to having their 'unexplained' pain and neurological symptoms misdiagnosed as somatization disorder, a mental illness manifesting in physical symptoms for which no cause can be found".

Perhaps the most disturbing example that Cleghorn provides is that of heart disease.  "In the mid-1980s, it was revealed that women were more likely to die from heart diseases than men.  Too often, this was because their diseases were misdiagnosed -- and even completely overlooked. By 1989, heart diseases were the leading cause of women's deaths in the US and UK.  And many were dying because they were not presenting the typical chest and left-arm pains of the male 'Hollywood heart attack'.  Studies have since found that women often have no chest pain at all but rather referred pain in their stomachs, neck, and shoulders.  The onset of a heart attack in women is often accompanied by nausea, fatigue, and breathlessness, symptoms that were historically dismissed as emotional and hysterical.  Angina is more likely to be written off as 'nonspecific chest pain' in women.  Chest pain, by the way, along with palpitations, dizziness, and difficulty breathing were all labeled 'hysteric' in the early somatization criteria".

We have come a long way in medicine since the times of leeches and blood-letting.  Even Dr. Cleghorn acknowledges that medicine saved her own life.  For those of us who have been belittled, infantilized, dismissed, berated (yes, it happens), butchered, humiliated, gaslit, or sent away in tears (I can say yes to all of those...) this book is perhaps the most validating thing we could read.  It covers a lot of ground, far more than I could hope to even mention briefly in this review but, for only 321 pages, it is densely packed with impressive and exhaustive research.  While I can't say that I am in complete agreement with everything Cleghorn presents, she hits the nail right on the head when it comes to women needing to be heard by their physicians.  Sadly, I know all too well that this is not the case for many of us and feel that Unwell Women is a book that every person -woman or man- should read.  

Cleghorn ends her book this way, and I'd like to follow her lead:  "To paraphrase the great Maya Angelou, when a woman tells you she is in pain, believe her the first time".