This painting is what I see when I look down, when I sit, when I exist in a body that has changed.

It is a self-portrait without a face. A view that many women know intimately: the stomach folding, the thighs widening, the skin settling into softness. This isn’t just about fat or form. It’s about how difficult it can be to witness ourselves with compassion in a society that teaches us to recoil.

The title, P.O.V: PRODUCT OF VIOLENCE, reflects the quiet, constant harm embedded in beauty standards. How we are taught from early on that our worth is tethered to thinness, to youth, to disappearance. This violence isn’t loud, but it is everywhere. It’s in the ads, in the glances, in the mirrors, in the compliments that sting. It’s internalized over time, until our own reflection becomes a site of struggle.

This work is not just about body image. It’s about survival. It’s about learning to stay present in the body despite shame. It’s about mourning the parts of ourselves we’ve lost trying to meet impossible ideals. And it’s about reclaiming the view. A view from punishment to presence, from distortion to truth.