Survivors’ Anthem Series # 60: “Victoria’s Secret” by Jax

The Body I Tried to Hide: Childhood Abuse, Body Image, and Learning That I Was Always Enough

The Music That Helped Us Heal | Domestic Violence Awareness Month

There are some wounds that don't leave visible scars. They live in the way we look at ourselves in the mirror. The clothes we choose. The photographs we avoid. The compliments we struggle to accept. The way we compare ourselves to everyone around us.

And sometimes, they live in the complicated relationship we develop with our own bodies.

For Survivors’ Anthem # 60, I'm choosing a song that speaks to something I've struggled with for nearly my entire life.

“Victoria’s Secret” by Jax.

This song is powerful because it challenges the unrealistic beauty standards so many of us grow up believing we have to meet.

But for me, it reaches somewhere even deeper. Because my relationship with my body wasn't shaped only by society's expectations of beauty. It was shaped by childhood abuse. And for years, I found myself caught between two painful desires.

I wanted to be beautiful enough to be accepted. But I wanted to be unattractive enough to feel safe. That is an incredibly confusing place for a child to exist.

When Your Body Becomes Something You're Afraid Of

As a child experiencing sexual abuse, I developed a complicated relationship with my body. Instead of seeing it as something that belonged to me, I began seeing it through the eyes of someone who had violated my boundaries.

I wanted to make myself less appealing to my abuser. Somewhere in my young mind, I believed that if I became heavier, perhaps I wouldn't be attractive to him anymore. Maybe he would leave me alone. Maybe I could protect myself. Maybe changing my appearance could change what was happening to me.

Of course, I understand something now that I couldn't fully understand then. My body was never the reason I was abused. My weight wasn't the reason. My appearance wasn't the reason. Nothing about me invited or justified what happened.

The responsibility belonged entirely to the person who chose to abuse me. But children don't always have the ability to understand that. Sometimes we search for ways to control something, anything, when so much of our lives feels beyond our control.

For me, my body became part of that struggle.

Trying to Disappear While Wanting to Belong

There is a painful contradiction in wanting to hide your body while desperately wanting to feel comfortable in it. Like so many teenagers, I wanted to feel pretty. I wanted to wear clothes I liked. I wanted to feel confident. I wanted to fit in with my peers. I wanted to experience the excitement of growing up without constantly feeling uncomfortable in my own skin.

But while other teenagers were navigating ordinary insecurities, I was also carrying the effects of abuse. I wanted people to notice me. And I wanted people to leave me alone. I wanted to feel attractive. And I was afraid of what being attractive might mean. I wanted to belong. And I wanted to disappear.

I wasn't simply struggling with body image. I was struggling with the idea that being seen could make me unsafe.

When Other Children Don't Know Your Story

Children can be cruel. Sometimes intentionally. Sometimes without understanding the damage their words can cause. I was made fun of for being heavier.

I heard comments about my appearance. I was made to feel that my weight somehow determined whether I deserved attention, affection, or love. And I was told that nobody would ever choose me.

Imagine hearing that while already struggling with the belief that your body had somehow made you vulnerable to abuse.

On one side, I was trying to make myself less appealing to someone who was hurting me. On the other, I was being judged for the very appearance I hoped might protect me.

There was no winning.

And the people making those comments had no idea what was happening behind closed doors. They didn't know the fear. They didn't know the trauma. They didn't know why I struggled with my body.

They simply saw a girl who was heavier than some of her peers. And they judged her. That's something I wish more people understood.

You never know what another child is carrying. The child who seems withdrawn. The child who wears oversized clothes. The child who struggles with their weight. The child who doesn't want to change in front of classmates. The child who appears insecure.

There may be an entire story behind what you're seeing. And sometimes that story involves things no child should ever have to experience.

“Victoria’s Secret” and the Beauty Standards We Inherit

When Jax released “Victoria’s Secret,” she challenged something that has influenced generations of girls and women. The idea that beauty comes in one particular shape. That being thin automatically means being beautiful. That our worth can be measured by clothing sizes, numbers on a scale, or how closely we resemble the images presented to us.

For many of us, those messages began long before social media. Magazines. Television. Advertisements. Fashion catalogs. Music videos. The popular girls at school. The comments adults made about their own bodies.

We absorbed those messages whether we realized it or not. And when you're already struggling with trauma, those expectations can become another layer of pain.

I wasn't simply comparing myself to unrealistic beauty standards. I was also trying to make sense of a body I had learned to associate with danger. That's why this song feels so important to me.

It challenges the belief that our bodies exist to meet someone else's expectations. Our bodies are not products to be judged, ranked, or approved by other people. They belong to us.

The Words That Follow You Into Adulthood

It's remarkable how long a cruel comment can remain in someone's mind. Especially when it was said during childhood.

You can grow up. Build relationships. Accomplish things you once thought were impossible. Become successful. Become loved. Become surrounded by people who see your value.

And still hear an old voice whispering:

You're not pretty enough.

You're too big.

Nobody will choose you.

Those messages don't necessarily disappear simply because your circumstances change. Sometimes they become part of your internal dialogue. And for survivors of abuse, that dialogue can be especially complicated. We may already be questioning our worth because someone violated our boundaries. Then society adds another set of expectations about how we should look.

It can take years to untangle those beliefs. I know it has for me.

Changing My Body Didn't Automatically Heal My Relationship With It

One of the biggest lessons I've learned is that changing your physical appearance doesn't automatically change the way you see yourself.

I've experienced significant changes in my body throughout my adult life. I've lost weight. I've had to adjust to seeing myself differently. I've had to learn what it means to live in a changing body.

But the emotional work doesn't simply disappear when the number on the scale changes. Because the little girl who was made fun of for being heavy still exists in my memories. The teenager who struggled to feel pretty still exists. The child who believed changing her body might protect her from abuse still exists.

And none of those experiences can be erased by reaching a particular clothing size. I could change my body, but I also needed to change the way I had been taught to see it. That has been one of the most important parts of my healing.

My Body Was Never the Problem

I wish I could go back and tell my younger self something. Something she desperately needed to hear. Your body was never the problem. Not when you were abused. Not when other children made fun of you. Not when someone told you nobody would ever choose you. Not when you looked in the mirror and wished you could become someone else. Not when you tried to hide. Not when you wanted to be seen.

Your body wasn't responsible for another person's choices. Your body didn't deserve ridicule. Your body didn't have to become smaller to deserve kindness. And your body didn't have to become larger to deserve safety.

You deserved to be safe exactly as you were. You deserved to be loved exactly as you were. You deserved to grow up without believing your appearance determined your worth.

Why Children Need Us to Do Better

As someone who has spent more than twenty years working in early childhood education and childcare, I think about this from another perspective too.

I think about the children growing up today. The things they hear. The things they repeat. The messages they absorb about their bodies. And how easily adults can unintentionally reinforce harmful beliefs.

When we comment negatively about someone's weight, children hear us. When we constantly criticize our own appearance, children notice.

When we praise weight loss as though it automatically makes someone more valuable, children absorb that message. When we make jokes about another person's body, children learn that appearance is something they're allowed to judge. And when children bully another child for looking different, we may not understand the full impact of what they're saying.

We don't know what that child is experiencing at home. We don't know whether they're living with abuse.We don't know whether their relationship with food or their body has been shaped by trauma. We don't know whether they're already struggling to feel safe in their own skin.

That's why we need to teach children something far more important than how to meet beauty standards. We need to teach them that every body deserves respect. We need to teach kindness. Bodily autonomy. Consent. Empathy. And the understanding that someone else's appearance is not an invitation for commentary.

Thank You, Jax

Jax, thank you for creating a song that challenges the messages so many of us grew up believing.

Thank you for reminding listeners that beauty standards are not the same thing as human worth. And thank you for creating music that opens conversations about body image, self-esteem, and the pressure placed on girls and women.

For me, “Victoria’s Secret” goes beyond the fashion industry. It reaches into a childhood where I learned to see my body through fear. A teenage experience where I was made to feel unworthy because of my appearance. And an adulthood where I'm still learning that my body doesn't exist for anyone else's approval.

Music has a remarkable ability to help us recognize beliefs we've carried for years. Sometimes a song helps us realize that those beliefs were never true.

Why “Victoria’s Secret” Belongs in the Survivors’ Anthem Series

This series has explored so many different aspects of survival. Domestic violence. Childhood abuse. Grief. Anxiety. Finding your voice. Leaving relationships. Rebuilding your life.

earning to love yourself. And body image deserves to be part of that conversation.

Because trauma doesn't exist only in our memories. It can influence how we experience our bodies. How we dress. How we respond to compliments. How comfortable we feel being seen. How we understand intimacy and personal boundaries. How we speak to ourselves when we look in the mirror.

For some survivors, reclaiming their bodies becomes an important part of reclaiming their lives. And that process deserves compassion. Not judgment. Not comparison. Not another impossible beauty standard. Compassion.

What This Anthem Means to Me Today

Today, I hear “Victoria’s Secret” and think about how much of my life I spent trying to make my body acceptable to other people. Acceptable enough to be loved. Unappealing enough to feel safe. Small enough to avoid criticism. Pretty enough to be chosen. And I realize just how unfair those expectations were.

I was a child trying to survive. I was a teenager trying to belong. And now I'm an adult learning that I never needed to earn my worth through my appearance.

My body has changed throughout my life. It will continue to change. And I am still learning to be kind to it. There are days when old insecurities return. Days when I struggle with what I see in the mirror. Days when I have to remind myself that my worth isn't determined by my weight, my clothing size, or someone else's opinion.

Healing isn't always a straight line. But I have come a long way from the little girl who believed changing her body might make the abuse stop. And I want her to know something. She was never too much. She was never not enough. She was always worthy of love, dignity, and safety.

💜 Domestic Violence Awareness Month: Body Image and Trauma

As we continue through Domestic Violence Awareness Month, I want to bring attention to something that isn't always discussed openly.

Abuse can profoundly affect how survivors feel about their bodies. Some survivors may try to hide their appearance. Others may struggle with shame, self-esteem, eating patterns, or feeling disconnected from their bodies. Some may experience body image concerns long after the abuse has ended.

There is no single way trauma affects a person. And there is no single way to heal.

But one thing should always remain clear:

The responsibility for abuse belongs to the abuser, never to the survivor's body.

No clothing choice, body type, weight, appearance, or behavior makes someone responsible for being abused. Survivors deserve support that respects both their physical and emotional well-being.

And children deserve adults who teach them that their bodies belong to them.

🛡️ Survivor Support & Safety Awareness

Throughout the Survivors’ Anthem Series, I've talked about reclaiming our voices, our bodies, and our sense of safety.

That's why I'm proud to collaborate with Hootie Personal Safety Alarms as part of my advocacy for survivors.

💜 For every 4 Hooties I sell, 1 is donated to a domestic violence shelter.

Visit gethootie.com and use code JANE for 10% off.

A personal safety alarm is one possible safety tool, not a replacement for individualized safety planning or professional support.

Every survivor deserves access to resources, education, and choices that support their independence.

Because safety should never depend on how someone looks.

Everyone deserves to feel safe in their own body and in the world around them.

Continue the Journey

Every book, conversation, and shared story is another opportunity to help someone feel seen. If you’d like to keep exploring my work, here are a few ways to stay connected.

📚 Read the Because of Series

Begin with Because of Jane, where a childhood doll bears witness to a little girl’s experiences of abuse, survival, and hope. Then continue with Because of Maddie: The Girl Who Said “ENOUGH” to hear Maddie’s own voice as she begins to reclaim her story.

🎶 Explore the Survivors Anthem Series

Discover the songs that have helped me find comfort, express difficult emotions, and celebrate surviving. Through personal reflections, I share how music has accompanied different chapters of my life, and invite you to consider the anthems that have carried you through yours.

Read the stories behind the songs on my blog, then listen to the Survivors Anthem Series playlists on YouTube and Spotify. Whether you need a moment of comfort, a good cry, or a reason to sing at the top of your lungs, I hope you find a song that meets you where you are.

🧵 Add Your Thread to The Jane Project

Everyone has a Jane: a doll, stuffed animal, treasured object, or source of comfort that helped them feel less alone. The Jane Project brings those stories together, creating a community connected by the things that helped us hold on. Who was your Jane? Your story can add another thread to our growing web of survivor strength.

📅 Meet Me at an Event

Visit my events page for upcoming book fairs, signings, readings, and speaking engagements. Whether you’ve read my books or are discovering them for the first time, I would love to meet you and hear what brought you to my table.

💜 Keep Reading the Blog

Explore more personal reflections on survival, healing, advocacy, writing, and the everyday joys that belong in our stories, too. Some posts hold difficult memories. Others celebrate friendship, music, books, and the moments that make life feel full.

🔗 Find It All Through My Linktree

Explore my books, projects, playlists, social media, and more at https://linktr.ee/shannonbrownauthor. Choose whatever speaks to you, and continue the journey with me.

Thank you for making room for my story. I hope something you find here helps you feel more connected to your own. 💜

And I want to leave you with a question:

If you could tell your younger self one thing about their body, what would it be?

Maybe you'd tell them they were beautiful.

Maybe you'd tell them they deserved kindness.

Maybe you'd tell them they never needed to change themselves to be accepted.

Or maybe you'd simply say:

Your body belongs to you.

For me, I would tell that little girl:

You spent so much of your childhood trying to change your body to survive what someone else was doing to you. But your body was never the problem. You were always enough.

And today, I'm finally learning to believe it. 💜