Are We EVER Enough?
A Reflection on Body Image, Comparison, and the Voices We Inherit
Featuring insights from Jenny Tomei
It’s about changing how we talk about food and health — especially at home.
Last week, I happened to be doing a piece of work on belief change visualisation with a client. It follows an NLP script where you guide the client to revisit the first time they can remember having a limiting belief, and then work to replace that belief with a new, enabling one. It’s a powerful piece of work—and it can be deeply beneficial. It got me thinking about how emotional it is to confront our younger selves. In this technique, the client often visualises themselves as a child. That confrontation is so unique and uncommon, and it often lays bare the soul. Imagining looking into the eyes of ourselves as a child is profoundly moving. In essence, we are looking back at an innocent version of ourselves—undefended, unarmoured, and unable to protect against the beliefs imposed on us by others.
I have done this technique myself as the client, and it was incredibly emotional to see myself as a 5-year-old. I was filled with a cocktail of emotions—delighted by her, overcome with immense and mighty love and affection for her. I saw her innocence, and I instantly wanted to sweep her up in my arms and protect her. I wanted to shield her from what life would throw at her. I wanted—more than anything—to tell her not to let other people’s opinions and society’s claws touch her. Of course, this is futile. That opportunity has passed.I can’t undo what’s already happened; real life simply unfolded. And that has left me with a deep sadness—and a heavy sense of regret, which to some extent will always be there.
We cannot change the past—but in letting go of a limiting belief we are able to move forward with optimism and new found strength. That in itself is a wonderful, powerful thing and should never be dismissed.
I have found myself however reflecting back on that exercise and on the intensity of the emotions I experienced, a deep regret, of lost happiness for that vulnerable 5 year old child. These reflections led me to think about how early we start internalising these beliefs—and how they’re already shaping the next generation.
As a mother, I know how it feels to want to shield my children from the big bad world! I want to protect them. I want to make them realise that it doesn’t matter what the world thinks of them. But the truth is… they will care.
Of course they will. Just like we all did.
The reason I originally set out to write this article was to talk about body image. Our tweens at Tween Talk—some just 10 or 11 years old—are already starting to talk about the pressure to be thin. And it's already affecting their behaviour and their attitudes toward food. They're calling themselves fat and ugly. Meals are being skipped. They’re weighing themselves. They’re sharing misinformation about nutrition, and some genuinely believe that stopping eating will make them skinny—and happy.
When I started hearing these beliefs coming from our tweens, my first thought was: Have we learnt nothing? This is no different to what I went through in my youth—so how can this still be happening? We now know so much more about nutrition, wellbeing, and the dangers of disordered eating. And yet we’re still aspiring to be stick-thin, disregarding our health in the process. My heart breaks—for the tweens now, and for the little girl I used to be, who believed those same things. I fear for them, regretting the suffering that may lie ahead if they don’t get support. But how do we give them that support? Where do we start—especially when society keeps stuffing this toxic rubbish down their throats?
And the problem isn’t just “out there.” It extends to the parents—many of whom are quietly battling their own unresolved issues around weight, appearance, and self-worth. How can we expect to model body confidence when we, too, are still unlearning harmful beliefs? When we flinch at our reflection, skip meals, or joke about being "bad" for eating a slice of cake, our children absorb those messages. Even in silence, they learn.
And now, this pressure has gone digital. Platforms like SkinnyTok are fuelling a new generation of body obsession, which has gained a new form of acceleration with social media. The young are being exposed to a constant stream of “what I eat in a day” videos, calorie hacks, and glamorised disordered eating, often dressed up as wellness. The obsession isn’t just visual anymore—it’s so easily measurable. We’re now tracking every step, every meal, every gram with apps that promise “health” but often promote surveillance. We’ve traded intuition for data, and self-compassion for control. And it’s not making us healthier—it’s making us anxious, disconnected, and, in too many cases, deeply unwell.
And how many adults also walk around quietly believing they’re not enough? That they don’t live up to society’s standards? Why do so many of us (with a few lucky exceptions—oh how I wish I were one of them!) walk through life feeling inadequate? Isn’t it such a waste of our time? We’re all marching towards our eventual end—and yet, instead of growing more comfortable in ourselves, we often continue to chase impossible ideals. We think we’re too fat, too ugly, too stupid. We’re not “enough” of something. Professionally, we suffer from imposter syndrome. We compare ourselves to others who seem to be achieving more, doing more, being more.
But isn’t it all a fallacy? Isn’t so much of what we see based on “Schein und Sein”—a German expression that captures the gap between appearance and reality? Perfection is an illusion. As humans, we are almost wired to be dissatisfied. Negative bias more often than not wins the day, the inner critic wearing us down. Once we achieve one goal, we spend little time celebrating the win and are very quickly chasing the next. So why do we persist in seeking to attain the impossible? And if we must pursue something rigorously, why don’t we invest our energy in more meaningful things—things more valuable than our waistline, six-pack, nose shape, or wrinkles?
It seems so obvious. And yet, we still struggle. We continue to wrestle with self-worth, chasing toxic dreams. So, what are we really voting for when we buy into beauty norms? In NLP, your attention is a vote. Every time we follow content that promotes fake perfection—skinny girls, muscly men, AI-generated faces—we’re reinforcing a cultural message of not being enough. We’re casting votes for a system that thrives on our insecurity. And we’re setting ourselves up for failure.
We can’t be as perfect as the airbrushed models on the screen.
We certainly can’t compete with AI.
When we worry about what other people think—whether we’re too fat, too short, too tall, too ugly—we are projecting our imagination onto others. Every person who looks at you will have a different perception. One might find you attractive, another won’t, and most won’t even give it a second thought. There’s truth in the idea that the most important opinion about you is your own—because in many ways, we create our reality through what we choose to believe.
Returning to my younger self, there’s nothing I can do now to ease the angst and struggle she lived through. She did care what others thought of her. She was a child of a materialistic culture that told her—subtly and loudly—that beauty meant looking a certain way, being a certain size. She struggled with food throughout her youth. And yes, she still has her bad days. But here's what gives me strength: by acknowledging her pain, I fuel my purpose. Her struggle becomes my reason to start these conversations with our tweens—openly, honestly, before the damage goes too deep.
I don’t want my daughter to walk the same path I did.
I want this generation to break the cycle.
To say, STOP. Enough is enough.
To redefine what beauty really means.
It’s a message that Anorexia Survivor, Nutritional Therapist, Eating Disorder Therapist & Founder of JenUp Jenny Tomei reinforces in her work with young people. As the founder of JenUp and an anorexia survivor herself, Jenny speaks of the deeply rooted belief systems that shape how young people view their bodies. Many genuinely believe that if they are thin, life will be easier — that they’ll be more accepted, more attractive, and ultimately, happier. But what’s really happening, she explains, is a quiet erosion of identity.
Diet culture has become so normalised that thinness is now seen not just as a sign of health, but as a marker of discipline and even moral virtue. It's embedded everywhere — from wellness trends and fitness apps to TikTok, YouTube, and advertising. Terms like “clean eating,” detoxing, or “just being healthy” often mask deeply restrictive behaviours, making them seem aspirational rather than harmful.For many girls, thinness is still equated with success, control, and confidence. They're receiving daily messaging that thin is better — not overtly, but subtly and relentlessly. This constant exposure can be a kind of psychological conditioning, leaving them with an impossible standard to live up to.
Jenny also points out the emotional and physical costs of chasing the thin ideal. Low energy, low mood, and reduced motivation can make even basic tasks — focusing at school, socialising, or planning for the future — feel overwhelming. She encourages us to consider where this road leads: What does a young person’s life look like in five years if their world stays centred on food, control, and body image? She believes the solution lies not in a single fix but in shifting culture, education, parenting, and support systems. It’s about changing how we talk about food and health — especially at home. Young people need to understand that nutrition is not just about appearance; it directly affects academic success, brain function, and emotional resilience. It’s about changing how we talk about food and health — especially at home.
How many more eating disorders do we need to witness before something changes? How much more does obsessive behaviour around sport, food, appearance, and achievement need to be normalised before we admit—this isn’t healthy, it’s harmful? I’m not naive. Some people will always be seen as more beautiful than others. But why must we measure our worth against them? Why can’t we value difference instead of chasing sameness?
So let me ask you:What would you say to your younger self about breaking the stigma?
What truth do we need to hear now that no one told us then?
Because the truth is, we can never see ourselves through anyone else’s eyes. The best we can do is practice self-love.
Appreciate who we are.
Be grateful for what we do have.
And start changing that conversation about what beauty really means.
It’s not easy to love yourself in a world that profits from your self-doubt.
But maybe self-love is the rebellion we all need to take.
Thoughts?
Contributor:
Jenny Tomei is a qualified Eating Disorder Therapist, Nutritional Therapist, and Personal Trainer. She runs her own practice supporting clients with eating disorders, body image issues, gut health, and weight concerns. Her non-profit JenUp, delivers workshops in schools and communities focused on early intervention and recovery. Her work is inspired by her own journey through anorexia, which she now uses to help others find healing and hope.
