When Your Body Feels Like the Enemy: A Letter from a Woman in Her 20s

Being a woman in her 20s is often described as a time of confidence, exploration, and self- discovery, but for many of us, it’s also a time of quietly hating our bodies. A time when our appearance feels like a full-time job, and self-criticism becomes a second language we never asked to learn.

There’s a very specific kind of loneliness that comes with waking up every day wishing you could feel different about the body you’re in. You tell yourself it shouldn’t matter. That you’re educated enough, mature enough, self-aware enough to “rise above it.” But then the mirror catches you off guard, or a photo triggers a spiral, or someone makes a comment that sits with you for days. And suddenly, your body feels like the enemy again.

// The Pressure to Love What You Don’t Like

We live in a world where women are expected to achieve a strange paradox: we’re supposed to love our bodies, even when we’re constantly reminded of how they fall short. Social media tells us to “embrace our imperfections,” but also hands us filters, editing tools, and diets to fix them. It’s confusing, exhausting, and honestly, unfair.

Most of us don’t hate our bodies because we’re vain; we hate them because we’ve been taught to measure them against impossible standards. Standards that are everywhere, in our feeds, in our friendships, in the offhand comments people think we don’t hear.

It’s no wonder so many women in their 20s are overwhelmed by it all. We’re navigating careers, relationships, identity, independence, and then on top of that, we’re silently battling our reflections.

The Universal Pain Behind a “Flawed” Body

The reason I’m writing this is because I know I’m not alone. I know there are countless women reading this who feel the same gut-punch when they see themselves in changing room lighting.Who dread group photos. Who can’t figure out how to feel comfortable in clothes that other people seem to wear effortlessly.

Body hatred is deeply personal, but strangely universal.

Some women hate their weight.

Some hate their skin.

Some hate their shape.

Some hate the parts that don’t match the beauty they see everywhere else.

The details may differ, but the heart of the struggle is the same: feeling not enough.

// The Moments No One Talks About

There are tiny moments I think every woman who struggles with her body recognises:

• The way you tug your shirt in public, hoping it hides what you don’t want seen.

• The relief of changing into oversized clothes at home because finally, no one is looking.

• The sting of seeing yourself in a photo and feeling like that can’t be you.

• The guilt of knowing you shouldn’t feel this way, but you do anyway.

These moments are rarely spoken about out loud, but they connect us more than we realise. And maybe that’s why I’m writing this, to remind you that your hidden battles are shared by so many women who look confident from the outside.

// Trying to Heal Without Pretending to Be Healed

I’m not going to pretend I have the answers. I don’t. But I’ve realised something important: healing doesn’t start when you suddenly love your body, it starts when you admit you’re struggling and allow yourself to speak honestly about it.

For me, the shift began with small things:

• Being gentler in the way I speak to myself.

• Questioning the standards I’ve been swallowing without noticing.

• Recognising that confidence isn’t a constant feeling, it’s something that shows up in moments, not entire days.

• Following people online who look like real women, not edited ideals.

None of these things have “fixed” me. But they’ve softened the edges of the hatred. And sometimes, that’s enough to keep going.

If You Feel the Same, This Is for You

If you’re a woman in your 20s who hates her body, I want you to know this:

You’re not dramatic. You’re not weak. You’re not alone.

There is nothing wrong with you for feeling the way you do. Your struggle doesn’t make you shallow. It doesn’t make you broken. It doesn’t diminish your intelligence, your value, or your potential.

It simply makes you human in a world that has spent a very long time profiting from your insecurity.

You don’t have to love your body today.

You don’t have to force positivity you don’t feel.

You don’t have to pretend you’re okay if you’re not.

You only have to keep showing up for yourself, even in small ways, even on the days you don’t feel like it.

Because one day, maybe not soon, maybe not dramatically, but eventually, you might look at yourself with softness instead of criticism. You might feel grateful instead of ashamed. You might feel at home in a body you once rejected.

And until that day comes, I hope you remember this:

Struggling with your body doesn’t make you less of a woman, it makes you one of us.

// Maya Husain