Toxic Femininity In Beauty: Why Shaming Doesn't Help Anyone + Examples

You may have heard of toxic masculinity, where "traditional ideals" of tough, hard manliness are trumped and everything else is shamed as weak. That breeds a culture that's unhealthy for both men and women. But what happens when women shame one another for acting in ways that are "inferior"?

Enter, toxic femininity: It happens when women shame other women, and it can happen in our daily lives—for example, when women engage in beauty shaming.

Sure, your looks are not, by any means, the most important thing in life. If you're hemorrhaging all your time, energy, and money on beauty until it becomes mentally exhausting, then it can certainly be problematic. And let's not forget the unattainable beauty standards society has placed on women as well, which can conjure anxiety, low self-esteem, and body dysmorphia.

One of the most common tropes is that a woman who takes care of her looks is "less professional," whether she goes for facials or wears false eyelashes—even if she may not necessarily wear said eyelashes to work. 

I've been privy to the cases of women with invisible illnesses such as chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia, who have been told they are lying because they take care of their looks. While these women most certainly do not spend their entire lives in front of the mirror or in beauty treatment rooms—they're instead holding down jobs and taking care of other familial and personal responsibilities—they take pride in the way they look. For them, this fosters a sense of control against a debilitating invisible illness.

It's difficult not to internalize these judgments and second-guess yourself, especially if you're someone who's type A or over-responsible—as it is, you tend to blame yourself first and foremost, even for things that have nothing to do with you. If you're shaming yourself, first know that toxic femininity and beauty shaming are very real things—you aren't alone.

Boundaries are the firm no's in our lives—they teach others how to treat us. First, know that you can express your boundaries gracefully: Try statements like, "My beauty decisions are private," or, "I already have professionals I consult for this, so I'd like to spend our limited time together on more productive and meaningful topics," or simply, "This isn't up for discussion." 

Should this boundary be violated, you could remind this person "I've already said I do not wish to speak about this topic" and enforce a consequence (like exiting the conversation) if they keep pushing. 

You could also turn the tables, with statements like "I don't tell you how to spend your money or your time; would you like me to start doing that?" Or even turn it into a light joke: "Interesting how you feel this need to fawn over my looks."

Let's face it: Some of us are motivated by spite, at least partially. Rather than deny this emotion and bury it away—because we know it's considered "negative" alongside the likes of sadness, anxiety, anger, and frustration by those who deny the rainbow of human experiences—why not harness it? Letting it simmer will only calcify it into a force that eats you away from the inside.

If someone shames you, acknowledge your spite, then you can use the energy from your anger to prove them wrong. Live your best life, shine the brightest you can, and your initial spite will metamorphose into something productive and inspiring. 

For example, I love how female doctors rallied together in the wake of the aforementioned 2020 research paper by posting bikini shots with the hashtag #MedBikini, proclaiming that they are allowed to have lives outside their jobs and still be professionals. Plus, I'd argue, resting and having hobbies make us not only better at our jobs but better people all-around. 

And guess what? After the uproar, that research paper has since been retracted. If we rally against beauty shaming, imagine what we could do together.