You’re so vain – you probably think this post is about you.

{image credit :: nathalielaure}

If you read the title of this post and thought it might resonate with your own experience, you might be vain.

And that might be okay.

Sometimes I hear from my patients that they fear others will think that their issues with food reflect vanity – this culturally pooh-poohed quality that shrieks of indecency and immorality. It’s not just in their minds that they develop this idea, as we constantly see examples of the popular media portraying eating disorders as the silly celebrity trend de jour.

But those who know a thing or two about these issues (and I purport myself to be included in this category), eating disorders are not about vanity. They are about a whole host of things – genetics, family, culture, shame, teasing, brain chemistry, abuse, power, intimacy, to name a few – but I have yet to see an eating disorder develop because someone was vain.

For those who don’t know a whole lot about eating issues, assuming a connection between symptoms of some eating disorders – such denying one’s self food, being tied to the scale, or being preoccupied with shape – and vanity is somewhat understandable. From the outside, we see individuals with eating disorders tied up in a cycle of self-starvation in an apparent attempt to change their bodies, and so we deduce that that person must care a whole heck of a lot about the way that they look. Bam! Vanity. Right?

But when we take a closer look, when we scratch oh so gently beneath the surface, we realize that even vanity itself is misunderstood.

Vanity is defined as excessive pride in one’s qualities and abilities. But culturally, we go further and ascribe associated qualities to those we consider vain. We think of a vain person as empty, arrogant, and even heartless. But when I really think about the meaning of vanity – taking pride (okay, excessive pride) in one’s self – I’m left wondering, is vanity really all that bad?

Sure, we all know people who take self-assurance a bit overboard (ahem, Charlie Sheen, I’m looking at you…), but those individuals tend to be quite the opposite of vain when we really get down to it. While I don’t suggest to know the psychology behind every arrogant jerk who’s walked the earth, I think it’s safe to say that most are actually in a good deal of emotional pain – their egotism is masking a self that feels broken.

When it comes to the rest of us, I think we could all stand a bit more “vanity” in our lives. I can’t remember the last time I was turned off when I heard someone tell me how stellar they thought their calves are or that they are a better singer than almost anyone they know. In fact, I myself am really attracted to people who know just how much they rock it.

And when it comes to people with eating disorders, vain is usually far from the way that I would describe them. The preoccupation with weight and shape that sometimes – but certainly not always – accompanies these disorders is not a reflection of pride. Instead, it reflects a learned – and culturally supported – pattern of focusing away from what is most painful. It is a way for individuals who don’t know how to manage what is troubling to manage something that can be troubling (e.g. my butt is too big), but has a seemingly concrete solution (e.g. eat less).

Does that reflect vanity? Hardly. I think it reflects the fact that we as a culture don’t do a very good job of teaching ourselves and each other how to manage the really tough stuff, and meanwhile promote all of the other stuff – things like anti-aging creams and shapewear.

So just because you walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht (or had clouds in your coffee…) doesn’t mean you’re vain. Carly isn’t necessarily right on this one…

Do you ever worry about being vain? Do you think eating issues have to do with vanity?