Click here to listen to Episode 146 of the Minutes on Growth Podcast on Spotify, on Apple Podcast or to watch the Episode on Youtube
Hi Soul Friends, it’s Tannaz Hosseinpour, and welcome back to another solo episode of Minutes on Growth.
Today’s conversation is one that’s been unfolding in sessions, in my friendships, and in my own reflections. It’s about our bodies.
More specifically—the comments made about our bodies, the shame we carry because of them, and the deep, often invisible wounds they leave behind.
Before we dive deeper, I want to clarify something: I’m not a nutritionist or a medical doctor. I don’t offer dietary or medical advice. My expertise lies in mental health, and that’s the lens through which I approach these topics. My focus is on how our relationship with our bodies, food, and societal narratives impacts our emotional and psychological well-being.
Research has shown that body image concerns are a global mental health issue. A study published by Cambridge University press highlights that dissatisfaction with one’s body appearance, including shape and weight, is prevalent worldwide and is associated with poor mental and physical health outcomes. These concerns are influenced by cultural contexts but are universally linked to mental health challenges . That’s why it’s crucial to foster open dialogues about these issues. By understanding the psychological aspects of body image and the societal pressures that contribute to them, we can begin to heal and support one another. Remember, it’s not about fitting into a mold but embracing and honoring our unique selves.
so lets begin…
For many women, our bodies have been a topic of conversation since childhood.
We grew up watching our mothers criticize their bodies.
Our grandmothers did the same.
And somewhere along the line, we learned that our bodies and the way we look were always up for discussion.
“Wow, you’ve lost weight.”
“You’ve gained some.”
“Your arms look big.”
“That outfit is too tight on you. You shouldn’t be wearing that with your body type.”
And for the longest time, this wasn’t questioned—it was normalized.
It was almost expected that our bodies be available for commentary, and that we should either take it as a compliment or see it as motivation.
But isn’t it time for us to change the narrative… for us to set a new normal… that our bodies are not public property to be reviewed or critiqued.
And comments—even the seemingly innocent ones—can hit wounds we’ve carried for decades.
I’ve had conversations with my fiancé about this, too.
And I explained to him:
You didn’t go to school and hear, “Bro, your hips look bigger today.”
This simply isn’t something that’s been up for discussion for most men… I say most and not all because I saw first hand how my brother was subject to these comments too growing up which I’ll discuss in a bit…
anyways, because many haven’t had these experience they don’t realize that for example..when a male partner makes a comment about our body—even with good intention—it often lands in a wound that’s been conditioned into us since we were girls.
That’s why we feel triggered.
Not because of necessarily what they said in that one moment—but because of everything that came before it.
The years of scrutiny.
The beauty industry constantly telling us we’re never enough.
The social media filters.
The shifting trends—one minute it’s heroin chic, the next it’s curves.
And so many of us begin to feel like our worth is constantly tied to whether or not we fit whatever mold is trending.
As if our body is a fashion statement that needs to be constantly adjusted.
But it goes deeper than body image.
I mean—think about it—for the longest time, we didn’t even consider our menstrual cycles when it came to fitness or nutrition…
Most of the research done in health and wellness? It was done on men—and simply applied to women, without accounting for our unique biology.
I recently read a study showing that women actually need more sleep, and yet up until now, that was never part of the conversation.
Our bodies weren’t factored in. We were expected to perform and operate just like men.
And one thing I deeply appreciate—something I rarely saw growing up in the Middle East—is my dad’s policy at work.
He created space for women to take the first day of their cycle off—no questions asked.
It wasn’t seen as a weakness.
It was acknowledging biology, honoring the body, and creating space for rest.
And yet, for so many of the women I work with, that kind of openness around menstruation has been completely absentfrom their homes.
They tell me they never talked about it.
That when they first got their period, it was filled with shame, secrecy, embarrassment.
That when their bodies began to change during puberty—developing breasts, gaining curves—they felt they had to hide.
And that shame? It doesn’t just vanish. It sits quietly in the background, influencing our relationship with our bodies—and it resurfaces again later during perimenopause and menopause.
And here’s the thing—we don’t talk about that enough either.
Perimenopause especially is something I hear so little about, even though it affects our mood, sleep, energy, hormones, weight, relationships, and nervous system.
We’re not educated about it. We’re not prepared for it.
And most of the time, the men in our lives don’t know about it either—which makes it harder to ask for support when we don’t even have the language for what we’re experiencing.
This is why these conversations matter.
This is why body literacy matters.
Because when we’re informed, we stop feeling like we’re broken.
We stop fighting biology.
And we start working with our bodies instead of against them.
Here’s what I want us to begin shifting:
The body was never the problem.
The story we inherited about our bodies is.
As I mentioned… shame is a heavy story.
And we cannot shame ourselves into changing.
We cannot judge ourselves into love.
But we can begin to reclaim.
To rewrite the narrative.
To come home to the body—not to control it, but to honor it.
My Brother’s Story: From Shame to Strength
And I want to share an example of this reclamation from someone very close to me that I mentioned earlier—my brother.
He once weighed 220 kilos.
He had his fair share of getting bullied…
Doctors labeled him obese. He was on thyroid and cholesterol medication
He was only 19, and every specialist told him:
“This is impossible to do naturally.”
“You need surgery.”
“You’ll never make it without medical intervention.”
He had tried for years to lose the weight through yo-yo diets, signing up to different gyms but stopping after a few sessions…
But after the last doctor appointment where the doctor was adamant on scheduling him in for surgery…
I remember him saying something powerful:
“Just give me one last chance to try and connect with my body.”
and try he did…
He embarked on the most profound sustainable journey I have ever seen … and I think it had a lot to do with intention… it no longer was to please my mom who was worried about him.. it no longer was to look like the people he saw on social media… but it was to genuinely reconnect with his body… to reconnect with the parts of himself that he had shamed and suppressed over the years…
He didn’t starve himself.
He didn’t take Ozempic, even though it was available to him for free.
He didn’t torture his body into transformation.
Instead—though baby steps…he changed his relationship with it.
He began treating his body like a temple.. verbatim.. his own words.
He went from ordering Uber Eats 3x a week including for breakfast to cooking real food…
He nourished himself with protein, veggies, rice—simple, grounded meals.
He moved his body not as punishment, but as celebration.
He kept saying… “I want to feel strong. I want to feel alive in this body.”
Over two years, he went from 220 to 90 kilos. His liver healed. He was taken off all the medication.
But more importantly—he became someone who actually felt connected to the body he lived in.
That’s not a weight-loss story.
That’s a story of autonomy.. of agency.. over his own body.. his own story.
Healing Through Safe Community
And we don’t do this kind of healing in isolation.
We need safe spaces.
At our Mykonos Retreat, one of the most beautiful transformations we witnessed was a woman healing her relationship with food.
Not because she was given a meal plan or a lecture.
But because she felt seen.
Held.
Supported.
When you’re surrounded by sisterhood—not comparison—you soften.
You release the shame.
You start to reclaim your body, not as an enemy, but as an ally.
This is why, whenever we have an in person program for example, at our upcoming Tuscany Retreat, we’re intentionally weaving in healing around our bodies, our food, and our feminine rhythms.
Whether it’s in our pizza and pasta making classes, where we engage with food joyfully and mindfully…
Or in our shared meals, where we bless our food, hold hands, and eat together…
We’re healing the layers—
The relationship with food.
With body image.
With sisterhood.
And there’s actual research that shows that eating with loved ones improves digestion, reduces stress, and increases overall satisfaction with meals.
It’s not just emotional—it’s physiological.
You’re Allowed to Be at Peace in Your Body
So here’s my invitation to you today:
You are allowed to be at peace in your body.
You’re allowed to move it, love it, feed it, honor it—without apology or explanation.
You’re allowed to speak up when someone crosses a boundary.
You’re allowed to rewrite the narrative.
And if you’re in partnership—share this episode with your partner.
Help them understand that this isn’t about one comment.
It’s about everything that came before it.
And together, we can start creating relationships and communities where bodies are respected, not reviewed.
Where healing is possible.
And where we can each learn to feel safe—in the skin we’re in.
If this episode resonated with you, I’d love for you to share it with a friend, leave a quick review, and don’t forget to check the show notes for Tuscany retreat details.
Until next time, be gentle with your body. It’s been through a lot—and it’s still showing up for you.
Minutes on Growth 