Your Thoughts About Your Body? Maybe They’re Not Yours.

Sunday morning. My favorite cafe. The sun is shining. The coffee is steaming. Everything is perfect—until three women sit down at the table behind us.

They talk.
About food.
About calories.
About their bodies.

Oh, how utterly irritating this is to me. My mood shifts. I don’t want to listen—but their words drill into my head like an echo.

It doesn’t stop:

“We really didn’t eat that much yesterday. Okay, two desserts, but that’s fine. We only snacked during the day…”

“I’ve gained three kilos…” – “Oh, but it looks good on you!” – “You can’t even tell, right?”

“I’ll just work out again. Get everything toned.”

I turn around and look at them. They’re thin. Stick-thin. And yet they sit there, negotiating with themselves as if standing trial. Justifying, reassuring each other. They have done nothing wrong. Nothing to be ashamed of.

I want to shake them. I want to tell them:

• That they’re talking absolute nonsense.

• That it’s not normal to control yourself to death for no reason.

• That their body already knows exactly what it needs, when, and how much.

• That they are worthy, no matter what the scale says.

I feel the anger rising inside me.
First at them… then at me.

And then, the shock:
These are my thoughts.
My words.
My courtroom.
They are me. I am them.

The First Lie: When Did You Start Feeling ‘Too Much’?

For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt fat.

I am six years old, standing in front of a mirror, sucking in my “belly” as hard as I can. I make a promise to myself to always hold it in. I am six years old. Thin. You can see my bones.

In ballet class, we girls compare our “fat” thighs, watching them spread when we sit down. At school, we have P.E. with the boys. I feel ashamed of my “imperfect” body.

I watch my father fight his weight. In the ’70s, everyone swore by FDH – Friss die Hälfte, “Eat half.”

I don’t understand why he punishes himself.
But I quickly learn: food is annoying. Something to be earned.
I grew up with diets.
The body is the enemy. You must control it.

Food and body image were the #1 topic in my childhood. Sentences like “Don’t eat so much, you’ll never lose it again.” Still echoing in my head.

The Collective Speaks: Why You’ll Never Feel ‘Enough’

Decades later, on this Sunday morning in Mexico City, I listen to these three strangers talk about food and their bodies—and I realize they have the exact same thoughts. They are a different generation. They are twenty years younger. And yet, they sit there, running the same program.

Something sparked my curiosity.

How is it possible that something I’ve believed to be my own thoughts is running rampant in other people’s heads?
Are these thoughts even mine?
What if the inner critic in my head—the one that counts, evaluates, compares — isn’t really me?
What if it’s just an echo?
An echo of comments I’ve heard.

Society has sold me beauty ideals. I learned from a collective that a number defined my self-worth on the scale. And what if I never questioned it—simply because it feels so real?

The clone factory: When even our faces are no longer ours

It must be true. Because today, it goes even further.

The collective is a master of manipulation.

• Advertising shows us “before & after” transformations – and after is always thinner.

• Social media feeds us perfect bodies, perfect faces – because the algorithm rewards the illusion.

• The beauty industry makes billions convincing us we need to be fixed.

We are becoming perfect clones

And so, women with plumped lips, tightened faces, and surgically enhanced bodies say:

“I’m doing this just for myself. Because I like it this way.”

Do they really believe that?
Or is it the collective speaking through them?

What if your thoughts aren’t yours?
What if you are not who you think you are?
What if you only think what they want you to think?
What if you have never truly been you?