Autonomy, Language, Ownership, and the Body in America

We’ve been taught to see our bodies as problems to fix, as things to control, or even as barriers to success. Do you truly have autonomy over your body? What if the real issue lies in systems that have conditioned us to feel shame? Systems that taught us to believe we must earn our worth through appearance, productivity, or adherence to arbitrary standards?

In this post, I want to challenge these deeply ingrained beliefs. Let’s explore how shame has been used as a tool to control, and offer a new way forward. A way to live together that prioritizes connection, self-acceptance, and the strength of our communities over outdated and harmful ideals.

Continuing Our Previous Conversation

The Power of Language in Shaping Our World

In my last blog post, we talked about how language shapes our world and how redefining words can help us relate to each other in healthier ways. We talked about how to create a society where we all thrive. Today, I want to continue this conversation by exploring another deeply ingrained aspect of modern ethics: ownership and our relationship with our bodies.

Link to the previous blog post: How To Redefine Ethics and Build Character

How Ownership Extends Beyond Material Possessions

The concept of ownership, which I discussed in my previous post, extends far beyond material possessions. It infiltrates how we perceive and relate to our bodies—and even the bodies of others.

The Philosophy Behind Body Ownership

Historical figures, lawmakers, and systems rooted in the pursuit of power and control have crafted the philosophy behind ownership. More specifically – ownership of bodies. A philosophy that continues to harm us and strain our relationships every day. It’s an issue that has touched the lives of nearly every person I’ve ever met, often with profound and painful consequences.

The Ripple Effect of Harm in Our Communities

This distortion in how we view and interact with our bodies—and how we allow others to interact with them—creates a ripple effect of harm in our communities. It has led us to shame ourselves and others. We distance ourselves from natural human experiences and prioritize control and productivity over rest, care, and connection.

A Call to Reframe How We See Our Bodies

Today, I want to explore this issue not to shame anyone but to acknowledge the harm. Let’s begin reframing how we perceive and communicate about our bodies. Our goal is to move toward freedom from these harmful systems. We can start building communities where we can all live and thrive together.

The Body as a Tool of Control: A Manufactured Legacy

For centuries, philosophers have discussed the body, the mind, and the soul. At the same time, those in power have shaped how we perceive and relate to our bodies. Through the influence of empires, religious doctrines, and social hierarchies, the body—its desires, functions, and needs—were framed as shameful, sinful, or something to be controlled.

Instead of being embraced as natural parts of human existence, lawmakers and influential figures weaponized fundamental experiences like eating, resting, and even menstruation to reinforce power structures.

This was not accidental. Instilling shame about the body made people easier to control. By disconnecting individuals from their physical selves and conditioning them to see their own needs as shameful, systems of power deepened submission and reinforced social hierarchies. The body, rather than being a source of autonomy, became a tool of obedience.

The harm of these philosophies extended far beyond the individual. These same ideas—linking worth to physical “perfection” and productivity—were used to justify some of history’s greatest atrocities. Slavery, eugenics, and the mass disablement of millions of people were not accidents; they were deliberate, calculated actions rooted in the belief that certain bodies were superior to others – therefore they had the right to control others.

Shame as a Means of Control

How Shame Became a Weapon

This cultural obsession with shame has infiltrated every aspect of life. Basic bodily functions—eating, resting, expressing sexuality, menstruating—have all been labeled as dirty, indulgent, or sinful. Instead of being recognized as normal human experiences, they became things to suppress, hide, or feel guilty about.

This wasn’t an accident. Shame was deliberately used as a tool to make people easier to control. When individuals internalize the idea that their natural needs and desires are inherently bad, they become more willing to submit to external authority.

Extreme Behaviors: When Shame Turns to Self-Harm

Over time, people embraced extreme behaviors to align with these beliefs. Devout Catholics practiced self-flagellation, whipping themselves to “purify” their bodies from desire. This act of self-harm didn’t happen in isolation—it reflected a widespread societal message that condemned the body as a source of temptation and weakness, something to be punished and controlled at all costs.

The Link Between Shame and Violence

The consequences of this distorted philosophy didn’t stop at individual self-punishment. As people developed an unhealthy relationship with their own bodies and bodily desires, they also projected that same control and violence onto others.

One of the most devastating outcomes has been the rampant sexual violence within religious communities. When societies teach that sexuality is shameful and pleasure is sinful, it creates a dangerous dynamic—one where people repress their desires, and that repression can manifest in destructive, violent ways.

Modern Self-Denial: A Shift in Methods, But Not in Philosophy

Although the methods have slightly changed, this toxic ideology still thrives today. In fitness communities, workplaces, and everyday life, we are conditioned to believe that pleasure is dangerous. Sacrificing the body, time, and well-being is framed as virtuous.

Modern “stoics” glorify self-denial as the highest moral achievement, reinforcing the idea that bodily needs must be conquered rather than honored. The underlying message remains the same: your body is something to be controlled, not celebrated.

Weaponizing Shame Against Communities

This culture of shame and self-denial has not only harmed individuals. Policymakers have used this philosophy to systematically oppress entire communities.

Black and Native populations have been disproportionately targeted by systemic violence, starvation, food deserts, lack of healthcare, and exploitative policies.

These oppressive strategies—rooted in power-driven philosophies like those in Machiavelli’s The Prince—have deliberately removed access to basic resources, leaving communities traumatized and stripped of opportunities.

From bombed neighborhoods to predatory banking practices, governments and systems of power have used every tool at their disposal to ensure that certain groups remain unable to thrive. The message is clear: only those who conform to the dominant standard of “perfection” are granted access to the resources needed to survive.

The Psychological Toll of Systemic Denial

Imagine being denied access to care and resources your entire life. Imagine growing up in a literal war zone, where generations before you endured relentless physical trauma.

Now, from childhood, you are taught that if you’re sick, disabled, or don’t fit the rigid standard of a “healthy” and “physically fit” person, you are worth less. Your value is tied to your ability to meet an arbitrary ideal, and those who do fit that mold have the power to control you—to decide whether you “deserve” access to food, healthcare, or even basic human dignity.

Do you see the pattern? This cycle isn’t an accident. It’s a designed system of oppression, ensuring that the most marginalized remain struggling, excluded, and dependent.

The Shift from Autonomy to Ownership

These ideas laid the foundation for oppressive structures that continue to harm us today. The belief that some bodies are inherently “better” than others justified centuries of racial violence, forced labor, and medical neglect. Governments have used these hierarchies to decide who deserves healthcare, who has access to food, and even who is worthy of life itself.

By weaving together the personal, the systemic, and the historical, we can begin to see how these harmful narratives are not random or outdated relics of the past—they are still actively shaping our lives today.

Amplifying Voices: Learning from Lived Experiences

Throughout history and in today’s social media spaces, many individuals have courageously spoken out about how harmful paradigms distort our relationships with our own bodies and shape how we treat others. Their voices reveal the deep pain caused by these systems and offer valuable perspectives on how to reframe and heal. I want to amplify their work here, as their insights are essential for dismantling these narratives. I’ll share links to their work to honor their contributions and invite further reflection.

Sociologist Sabrina Strings, in her book Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia, delves into how fat phobia is deeply rooted in anti-Blackness. She argues that societal disdain for fatness, especially concerning Black women, did not stem from medical findings but from Enlightenment-era beliefs that associated larger body sizes with “savagery” and racial inferiority. Strings contends that metrics like the Body Mass Index (BMI) lack empirical scientific grounding and have been used to perpetuate these biases.

Sonya Renee Taylor

Sonya Renee Taylor, founder of “The Body Is Not An Apology” movement, emphasizes radical self-love as a means to combat body shame and systemic oppression. In her book, The Body Is Not An Apology: The Power of Radical Self-Love, Taylor discusses how societal standards have led to internalized body shame, particularly among marginalized communities. She advocates for embracing one’s body as it is, challenging oppressive systems that dictate worth based on appearance.

The anthology Oppression and the Body: Roots, Resistance, and Resolutions, edited by Christine Caldwell and Lucia Bennett Leighton, explores the intersections of power, privilege, and oppression concerning marginalized bodies. This collection offers strategies and practices for embodiment and activism, considering what it means to be an embodied ally to those experiencing bodily oppression.

northatlanticbooks.com

These works, among others, provide profound insights into how systemic oppression has shaped our perceptions of the body. By engaging with these perspectives, we can begin to dismantle harmful narratives and foster a more inclusive and compassionate understanding of our bodies and those of others.

A Personal Connection to These Struggles

This issue resonates deeply with me. Someone very dear to me struggled with these harmful ideas their entire life. Growing up in a culture that equated fatness and normal human functions, with laziness and failure, they became self-conscious at a young age. As the pressure mounted, they sought help from a doctor, only to be prescribed uppers to suppress their appetite during the day and downers to help them sleep at night.

The Devastating Impact of Shame

Then, what began as an attempt to conform to societal standards spiraled into a painful battle with addiction. Shame around their body, natural desires, and dependence on prescription drugs had devastating consequences. The need to “fix” their body, to fit into an arbitrary ideal, led them down a path of self-destruction rather than self-acceptance.

Choosing Love Over Harmful Standards

I learned one of the most important lessons of my life from witnessing—and ultimately suffering from—this struggle. The lesson is – I would much rather love, cherish, and spend time with the people I care about, regardless of their weight, health, or any physical attribute. Life is too short to let these harmful paradigms rob us of meaningful connections with those we love most.

The Wider Impact of These Narratives

Now, when I see others grappling with similar struggles—afraid of being deemed “undesirable” simply for existing in their natural bodies—I’m reminded of the immense harm these narratives inflict. These oppressive ideas and the systems that reinforce them don’t serve most of us; instead, they perpetuate cycles of pain while upholding power structures designed to benefit only a select few.

Recognizing the Cycle in Our Own Lives

Maybe you’ve seen this cycle play out in your own life. Maybe you have a loved one who has struggled with self-image, disability, or addiction. I hear stories like these again and again. It’s heartbreaking to see how many of us are trapped in a cycle of shame and pain—especially when that harm gets reinforced in our daily conversations, often without us even realizing it.

Identifying the Cycle

Governments and systems maintain control by ensuring we stay focused on chasing unattainable standards instead of questioning the structures that uphold them. It’s a strategy as old as The Prince, and it continues to thrive today.

Recognizing this cycle is the first step toward creating true autonomy and healthy communities. When we acknowledge how these systems harm us all, we can begin to build a world where worth is measured by our shared humanity—not our proximity to an impossible and harmful ideal.

A Trap for Everyone

Even those who seem to benefit from proximity to societal standards aren’t free from this system. The constant fear of falling out of favor with these ideals—losing access to resources and privileges—keeps them trapped in a cycle of anxiety and self-policing. Thin, active, “healthy” people, too, become complicit in upholding harmful paradigms out of fear of what they might lose.

Eating disorders and body dysmorphia run deep in the athletic community. Overtraining and burnout are just as common. Even those who follow so-called “healthy habits” aren’t immune—they’re still trapped in the relentless pressure to maintain a certain body, to hold onto whatever privilege and access it grants them. The struggle doesn’t end just because someone fits the standard—it just takes on a different shape.

This pressure isolates everyone, whether marginalized or privileged, from their humanity and from one another. It drives division, shame, and competition, ensuring that the true source of harm—the oppressive systems—remains unchallenged.

Health as a “Moral” Issue: The False Promise of Perfection

Our disconnect from our bodies hasn’t just harmed us as individuals—it has shaped the way we see health, illness, and disability. In this framework, health is treated as a measure of morality, and illness or disability is framed as a personal failure. The message is clear: if you are sick, in pain, or disabled, you must have done something wrong.

But this view completely ignores reality. Health is not a reward for good behavior. It is mostly a matter of luck—being born without a disability, not having generations of trauma to overcome, having access to healthcare, growing up in an environment with clean water, nutritious food, and minimal exposure to trauma. These are not things we “earn.” They are privileges that some are born into and others are denied.

Yet, in this distorted philosophy, illness and disability are seen as weaknesses, things to be pitied or hidden away. Society reinforces this by rewarding those who fit prevailing ideals—able-bodied, white, male, fit, and wealthy—with greater access to healthcare, jobs, and opportunities. Meanwhile, those who don’t fit that mold are pushed further away from the resources they need, making it even harder to survive, let alone thrive.

How We Talk to Our Loved Ones About Their Bodies

I get why so many of us speak harshly to ourselves and the people we love about our bodies. A lot of the time, it comes from real concern. We see someone moving further from what society considers an “ideal” body, and we know that means they’ll lose access to resources, opportunities, or even basic respect. We want the people around us to be healthy, to avoid pain, to have a good life. And when we see them struggling, we panic.

So we push. We tell them to “get it together,” “build better habits,” “lose weight,” and do whatever we think will protect them from harm. Even if the intention is good, the impact is usually the opposite.

Instead of making our loved ones feel supported, we end up reinforcing shame. We make it seem like they don’t deserve love or care unless they fit a certain mold. In some cases, we push them so hard that they start isolating themselves—or we isolate them without realizing it.

If we truly want to help, we can stop trying to control people and start listening to them. Instead of assuming we know what’s best for them, we can ask: What do you need? How can I support you? We can never force or shame someone into change. We can practice showing up, respecting their autonomy, and loving them as they are.

We can’t control other people’s choices. But we can build community by supporting and loving each other through whatever choices we make and challenges we face—no strings attached.

The Harm in Shaming Ourselves and Others

It’s understandable that we want the people we love to be healthy. When we see someone struggling with their health, it’s natural to feel concerned. But shame is not an effective motivator.

1. Shame fuels unhealthy thoughts and behaviors. Instead of encouraging meaningful change, shame often leads to isolation, secrecy, and self-hatred. It makes it harder to communicate openly and pushes people deeper into destructive patterns.
2. Health is not something we can see. Weight does not equal health. Fatness does not always mean illness, just as thinness does not always mean health. Genetics, environment, and access to resources play a massive role. As we discussed earlier, generations of trauma and systemic violence have left lasting physical and mental health effects on marginalized communities.
3. We do not owe each other health. Of course, we want to avoid seeing our loved ones in pain. But in life, pain and suffering are unavoidable. Shaming a disabled or chronically ill person for something they have no control over does nothing but cause more harm. At the end of the day, what matters is that we love and support one another, regardless of our physical health.

I know for me, I would rather have my loved ones here, no matter their health, than not have them at all. Our worth is not determined by how “healthy” we are. We matter simply because we are alive and experiencing life together.

The Fragility of Life and the Power of Shared Humanity

The fact that any of us are alive at all is incredible. We are so fragile—one wrong step, one accident, one genetic mutation could change everything. And yet, society tells us that our worth is based on how well we fit an arbitrary physical standard.

But our value is not in our productivity, our fitness, or our ability to avoid illness. Our value is in our shared humanity—the fact that we are here, together, experiencing life with one another.

This belief that we must “earn” our worth by maintaining perfect health and endless productivity has stripped us of our connection to ourselves and each other. It has made it easier to justify mistreatment, both of ourselves and others, because we’ve been conditioned to believe that love, care, and dignity must be deserved rather than freely given.

But what if we rejected that idea? What if we saw ourselves and each other as valuable simply because we exist? What if we focused on love, community, and support instead of shame and impossible standards?

That shift in perspective could change everything.

Conclusion

We’ve spent generations being taught to see our bodies as problems, burdens, or tools for productivity when in reality, they are neither the enemy nor something to conquer. The real enemy has always been the systems that instill shame, deny resources, and keep us disconnected from ourselves and each other.

By shifting our focus from control and perfection to self-acceptance and collective care, we can begin to break the cycle. We don’t have to perpetuate the harm—we can listen, support, and uplift one another. When we reject harmful ideals and start treating each other with dignity and love, we build stronger, more compassionate communities where we all have the chance to thrive.

Let me know your thoughts and if you could see your relationships shifting by applying these concepts in your every day life.