Can You Pinch an Inch? The Harms of Body Checking
/Can you “pinch an inch?”
(Please don't try.)
If you were a TV viewer in the 80s, you're likely very familiar with Kellogg’s “pinch an inch” ad campaign.
And, as the Special K commercials encouraged us to do, you likely tried to see if you could indeed pinch an inch of flesh at your waistline.
According to the cereal company, pinching an inch or more meant there was a problem with your body.
But, hey, no worries, they had the solution! If you ate a bowl of Special K cereal every morning, that shameful inch would melt away!
Not only did Kellogg’s body shame millions of people to sell its product, it also taught us, especially impressionable young girls like me, the practice of body checking.
Body Checking Defined
Body checking means frequently seeking information about your weight, size, shape or appearance by repeatedly engaging in behaviors such as:
Stepping on the scale to check your weight
Using skinfold calipers to measure your body fat percentage
Measuring body parts with a tape measure
Looking in the mirror and other reflective surfaces (e.g., store windows, display cases)
Evaluating the fit of your clothing, belts, rings, etc.
Pinching and squeezing your flesh
Feeling body parts for fat, muscle or bone
Wrapping your hands around your wrists, arms, thighs, stomach, etc.
Comparing your body to recent or old photos and videos of yourself
Zooming in on various parts of your body in photos and videos
Comparing your body to other people’s bodies
Asking other people for their opinion of your body
Escalated With Dieting
While I learned to perform a few body checking behaviors as a pubescent tween, like pinching my waist, my body checking really escalated in my thirties during my most restrictive dieting days.
I’d weigh myself every single morning after working out and before getting into the shower. Sometimes, I’d step on the scale multiple times a day if one was nearby.
When getting dressed, I’d obsessed over whether my clothes felt looser or tighter compared to the last time I wore them.
Every time I encountered a mirror at home or work while alone, I would turn sideways to check the size of my stomach, often sucking it in to try to make it look flatter.
Sitting in work meetings, I’d wrap my hand around my wrist under the table to gauge its size.
And while lying in bed at night, I would perform a routine check of my stomach, thighs and other body parts, feeling each area to see if anything had changed.
Harmful Coping Tool
I didn’t know back then that this constant scrutinizing of my body had a name. I also didn’t realize the harm it was causing.
I was just trying to do what I thought I needed to do to control my weight, to conform to our culture’s unrealistic body standards, to feel acceptable, worthy and safe in a world that was constantly telling me I wasn’t good enough (including cereal companies!).
If the number on the scale was lower, if my jeans fit looser, if my stomach looked flatter, if I could pinch less belly fat, then I felt relief—albeit temporary—from the body distress I typically felt weighed down by.
My body checking was a way to cope with my uncertainty about who I was and my place in the world.
It was a way to alleviate my fears and anxiety, to soothe and comfort myself, to reassure myself that I was okay.
It was also a way to motivate myself.
If I liked the feedback I received, I was motivated to keep doing what I was doing, to keep undereating and overexercising. If I didn’t like the feedback I received, it motivated me to pull the reins in tighter, to eat even less and exercise even more.
It didn’t matter how my body felt (ravenous! exhausted!). It only mattered how it look.
While I thought my compulsive monitoring was necessary, it kept me overly focused on my body leaving little time, energy and headspace for far more important things.
It caused my mood to swing from elation to despair and dictated how I went about my day and how I interacted with others.
Although it could momentarily ease my anxiety, it ultimately amplified it. Although I was attempting to feel better about my body, it ultimately increased my body dissatisfaction.
Life On the Other Side
As I began healing my relationship with my body, I came to understand how harmful my body checking behaviors were, including how they were fueling my disordered eating and exercising.
By working hard to overcome my beliefs and behaviors (including challenging toxic messaging from companies that profit greatly from us feeling badly about our bodies), I was able to eventually cultivate a more peaceful, neutral relationship with my size and shape.
Looking in the mirror a few times a day to style your hair, ensure your shirt is buttoned correctly, or check for food in your teeth is something most of us do.
Repeatedly looking in the mirror throughout the day, fixating on the size of your stomach or the shape of your hips, is something none of us should feel the need to do to survive oppressive social constructs that put bodies on a hierarchy.
If you engage in frequent body checking, I encourage you to get support because there’s so much more life to live on the other side of your mirror.
