As a millennial woman who came of age in the early 2000s, I remember the body image pressures of my youth with painful clarity. My adolescence was shaped by low-rise jeans, crash diets and a constant stream of images and messages from glossy magazines and early reality TV shows that reinforced one narrow standard of beauty that was thin, white, and flawless. While we were beginning to realise that these ideals were airbrushed and unattainable, we still internalised them. And yet, there was an off switch; I could close the magazine, turn off the television, or go outside and be in the world without constantly confronting images of “perfect” bodies. Social comparison still happened, of course: at school, in locker rooms, at the mall, but it was limited by time and space. There were moments of relief, even if brief.
Fast forward to now, and I look at what teens are navigating today with a mix of compassion, shock, and concern. The landscape has changed dramatically. Social media has transformed not only how we connect, but how we see ourselves. Platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and Snapchat have created a culture of 24/7 exposure to filtered, curated, and often highly edited images. And unlike the magazines of my youth, social media isn’t just media, it’s social. The comparison is no longer just to celebrities and models, but to peers, classmates, influencers, and even strangers who happen to pop up on our feeds. There’s no off switch when everyone has a highly addictive supercomputer in their pocket at all times.
In his book The Anxious Generation, social psychologist Jonathan Haidt dives into the effects of social media on adolescent mental health and shares some striking findings. He notes that girls are particularly vulnerable to pressures of visual platforms, which encourage constant self-surveillance and comparison. Haidt cites research showing that since the early 2010s, the same period when social media and smartphones became ubiquitous, rates of depression, anxiety, and self-harm among teenage girls have risen dramatically. Girls who spend five or more hours a day on social media are three times more likely to be depressed than those who don’t. What strikes me most about this new reality is the absence of escape. Even the privacy of your bedroom isn’t safe from the reach of social media. Every selfie, every post, every like becomes part of a constant feedback loop. Girls are growing up in an environment where their appearance is always on display and always being judged, by others and by themselves.
In contrast, while I certainly struggled with body image growing up, I had spaces that felt more insulated. My self-esteem wasn’t on the line every time someone saw a photo of me. I wasn’t constantly seeing idealized, filtered versions of my friends or strangers, and I didn’t feel the same pressure to document my body from every angle. I had moments of disconnection, boredom, and presence…things that feel increasingly rare in today’s digital culture.
While there’s more public conversation today about body positivity and mental health, those messages often get lost or distorted amidst the noise. Social media platforms may occasionally highlight self-love, but they’re also driven by algorithms that reward engagement, often by promoting idealized, unrealistic content. It’s easy to scroll past a post about body acceptance and immediately land on a video that triggers insecurity. Many grapple with deep insecurities fueled by constant exposure to unattainable beauty standards online. Their self-worth is often tangled in likes, filters, and comparisons, and their struggles with food and body image are amplified by the digital environment they move through every day.
It’s also important to acknowledge the role of the beauty and wellness industries in all of this. These industries are built on the idea that we are not enough as we are. Their profits rely on our dissatisfaction and sell products, procedures, and “solutions” to fix perceived flaws that are often created or exaggerated by the media we consume. The more we compare ourselves to impossible ideals, the more we spend trying to reach them. It’s a cycle of insecurity that is both manufactured and monetized.
So where do we go from here? I don’t believe we can go backward, nor should we shame young people for living in the world they have inherited. But I do think we can hold space for honest conversations about the impact of social media on our self-worth. We can support teens in developing media literacy and self-compassion. We can advocate for healthier online environments, where authenticity is valued over perfection. And we can model those values ourselves. I’ve spent years unlearning the messages I absorbed as a teenager. It’s ongoing work that I now approach with more gentleness, awareness, and life experience. I want something different for the next generation: not just resilience in the face of a toxic culture, but the power to reshape it. To know their worth outside of an image. To feel at home in their bodies, not constantly at war with them. To put down the phone and find their own moments of escape from constantly having to perform for an online audience and an industry that profits off of their insecurities.
