Mate, you are definitely not the only one. It sounds totally mental—being fine getting your kit off at a nude beach but panicking over a progress photo—but it’s a real thing. When you're at a beach or a PL meet, you're just existing or performing. But a photo? A photo is a frozen receipt of exactly where you’re at, and it’s way harder to lie to yourself when you're staring at a JPEG.
I used to do the same thing: take the shot, look at the gut, feel a wave of pure disgust, and hit delete before the coach could even blink. It’s like the camera adds ten pounds of self-loathing instead of just weight.
Here’s the trick that worked for me: stop looking at them. Set the timer, hit the pose, and send that shit immediately without reviewing it. Treat it like a blood test or a work email. It’s just data for the coach to do their job. They've seen way worse, trust me—they’re looking at your insertions and body fat distribution, not judging your soul. Just rip the band-aid off once and the next time will be ten times easier. You've stepped on a platform in front of a crowd, you're a beast, don't let a tiny little lens get in your head!
That "frozen receipt" line is pure gold and honestly hits the nail on the head. It’s the difference between being "in the moment" and being "under the microscope." When you’re at a beach or a meet, you’re moving, you’re confident, and you’re just part of the environment. A static photo, though? It feels like an indictment.
The "don't look" strategy is unironically the best way to handle body dysmorphia when working with a coach. If you sit there and zoom in on your lower back or your midsection, you’ll find a million reasons to talk yourself out of sending it. You start thinking, "I'll just wait until next Monday when the bloating goes down," but next Monday never comes.
Just remember, a good coach doesn't see "fat" or "flaws"—they see variables they can fix. To them, those photos are just a map showing where to adjust the carbs or the cardio. It’s purely clinical. If you can handle the pressure of 100 people watching you strain under a heavy bar, you can handle a digital file sitting in some coach's inbox. Ripping that band-aid off is the first real step to actually changing what you see in the mirror. Just hit send and go get your workout in; the relief you'll feel once it's over is massive.
Man, body dysmorphia is a total beast when it's just you and your camera roll. We are our own worst critics, and we'll sit there and dissect a photo until we feel like a pile of garbage, even if we're actually looking lean and mean. That "don't look" rule is a total lifesaver. If you treat check-in photos like a chore just snap, click, and delete you stop giving those pixels so much power over your mood.
Think of your coach like a mechanic. When you take your car in, you don't feel embarrassed that the oil is dirty or the tires are bald; you just want it fixed. It’s the same with these photos. Your coach is just looking for the data points to help you grow. They aren't judging your soul; they're just checking to see if the cheesecake you snuck on Saturday is still hanging around your waist. Ripping that band-aid off and hitting send is the ultimate way to stay accountable. Once it's out of your hands, the anxiety just evaporates, and you can get back to what actually matters: smashing your next session. Just send the damn things and keep moving.
It is crazy how a tiny little screen can mess with your head more than a room full of people. I used to be the exact same way, literally holding my breath and squinting so I wouldn't have to actually see the "damage" while I was uploading. You're out there hitting heavy triples in front of a crowd but a 2D image makes you want to crawl into a hole. It's because we're our own worst critics and we pick apart every single pixel. Honestly, the best thing I ever did was stop checking the lighting and just treating the camera like a piece of gym equipment. It's just a tool, not a mirror. Send the damn photos and go grab a coffee, your coach has definitely seen way scarier stuff than a bit of off-season bloat!
Alright, buckle up—your fashion sense looks like it lost a fight with a thrift store, and your cooking could make toast feel unsafe. But hey, at least you tried… kind of.
oh man, this is so relatable. i used to dread progress pics like they were the final boss in a video game. what helped me was exactly that—take it, send it, don’t look. after a few weeks it stops feeling like a personal attack and more like just numbers on a screen. the camera doesn’t lie, but it also doesn’t hate you. your coach sees the progress, not the little flaws your brain zooms in on.
haha yes exactly—photos feel so much harsher than real life, like the camera is just out to humiliate you
love that tip about just sending it straight to the coach—treat it like a lab result, not a personal critique
same here, I’d always delete the pics immediately, then regret it later when I actually needed them for tracking progress
honestly, framing it as “just data” really helps, takes the emotion out of it and makes it way less stressful
totally agree—if you can step on stage in front of a crowd, you can handle a damn photo, it’s nothing compared to that!
haha yes, “frozen receipt of exactly where you’re at” perfectly describes it, i feel that so hard
love that tip about sending it immediately without reviewing—takes away all the mental drama
honestly never thought of it like a blood test before, makes total sense to just treat it as data
the part about coaches not judging your soul made me laugh, but it’s true, they’re looking at specifics, not your self-hate
