TomasinoWeb logo
TomasinoWeb logo

Sunday, February 09, 2025

“Am I in my second puberty?”: The hourglass of beauty

5 min readSo when I found myself mourning for my glass skin and size XS-clothes, it was hard to keep the worry of whether I’m still pretty enough under the current.
Profile picture of Francesca Maria Dela Cruz

Published 22 days ago on January 18, 2025

by Francesca Maria Dela Cruz

SHARE

Main image of the post

(Artwork by Jewyz Ann Bunyi/TomasinoWeb)

SHARE

Looking in the mirror is a reflex for me.

I grew up with reflections stealing my attention even in the middle of a conversation because I just have to see my face—like observing how lighting changes the contours of my face or to check if my side view is hideous. And I’m sure others are the same; the long lines to get into restrooms are a testament to that. Usually, the women I’d be jostling for space in front of the grand mirrors of a local mall are predictable: they either have a lip gloss at hand, their eyes not swaying one bit as they circle their heads slightly to avoid creases, or they are tiptoeing to lean closer to check for any protruding pores despite the pound of foundation they put on.

I am self-conscious. I have an innate obsession with seeing myself before others do. And that’s not something shameful to admit in my vocabulary. It’s normal for me to rehearse expressions or attempt to copy model poses, because how would I know what’s pretty on my body if I don’t? And for a while, I was satisfied doing that. I was at my prime when I turned 18—I knew my color palette, what aesthetic to follow, and what angle to take my selfies in. But then, my 20s came, and suddenly, I no longer recognize myself anymore.

The term second puberty entered my algorithm just then, because online, I found that women were talking about the exact insecurity that has been gnawing at my bones. When we hear puberty, universally, it’s synonymous with the hormonal, ugly phase—so picture the pimples, the baby fat, and cringey poses—it’s that weird transition from being an elementary kid to a highschool teenager.

But second puberty takes that phase and essentially curveballs one’s idea of prime, because apparently even after peaking, the body continues to fluctuate. So when I fell victim to mourning for my glass skin and size XS-clothes at 21, it was hard to avoid worrying whether I’m still pretty enough underneath it all.

Liquid smooth

Screenshot from Jennifer’s Body (2009)

(Screenshot from Jennifer’s Body (2009))

Technically speaking, the term second puberty does not exist in medical jargon. Healthline explains that second puberty is just another internet slang, and the experiences pertaining to the phenomenon shared by women—such as pimples spreading again in their college years, gaining weight despite no diet change, or even being just extra irritable and sensitive—only means growth. Puberty, as Stynes puts it in the Physiology of Puberty, is not a singular event but a form of continuous development. A person doesn’t really go through another puberty in each decade of their life; they simply age.

In a research by Jessica Sassoon, When Beauty Matters Too Much, she describes women’s destructive relationship with the concept of beauty as a formula for body disorders, stating that being in an environment or mindset that constantly reiterates perceived appearance defects may lead to anorexic and bulimic tendencies. Additionally, body dysmorphia disorder and related eating disorders, according to Katharine Philipps, contributes to the trivialization of “doctor shopping,” the cosmetic process of getting under the knife for even the slightest of flaws.

Screenshot from Helter Skelter (2012)

(Screenshot from Helter Skelter (2012))

The idea of second puberty, as it trickles down to the feminine experience of beauty standards and proneness to comparisons, is well-documented by mass media.

In the Japanese movie Helter Skelter (2012), the pursuit of a modelesque charm to become the beauty idol for Japanese teenage girls is accentuated through a deteriorating body horror plot, while in the South Korean movie 200 Pounds Beauty (2006), plastic surgery is instead showcased as an angel’s call, a rejuvenating form of rebirth into a love-filled life.

In the infamous Belo Beauty commercial that sparked heated discussions back in 2021, body shaming was front and center. The ad depicted a slim, smooth-skinned woman transforming into a fat, acne-riddled woman with unkempt body hair. The commercial ends with the message, “Tough times call for beauty measures,” mirroring the 2024 hit movie The Substance’s tagline, “Have you ever dreamt of a better version of yourself? Younger, more beautiful, more perfect.”

It’s a common understanding that women will make the most out of being 18 to 25 years old because that is considered the epitome of their best beauty. Second puberty, therefore, becomes a connotation for an early mid-life crisis for women and a compensational term to minimize the concern of potentially having body dysmorphia.

Wheel of fortune

Screenshot from The Substance (2024)

(Screenshot from The Substance (2024))

The inevitability of aging and the chronic pursuit of beauty are akin to two debaters standing on different podiums, and for women specifically, the argument plays like a broken record. In every anti-aging propaganda, the target is to keep youthful vitality intact, which means ensuring one’s skin is collagen-filled, hair is luscious, and the body remains voluptuous yet not overweight. As a satirical video says, “Smile lines will wrinkle your face–yes even for joy you’re being punished.”

Despite the attempt to reintroduce beauty as an energetic influence attached to soul nourishment, physical beauty at its most literal sense is still considered a currency, where unfortunately, it means aging decreases one’s value. We often hear of our moms’ and titas’ musings of their prime years laced with regret for their missed beauty routines. Even without verbalizing it, the regret shows, such as when they wouldn’t hesitate to hop on the trend of using AI apps to generate photos that make them as fit as a model, and using those photos as their Facebook profile picture for a while.

Screenshot from Black Swan (2010)

(Screenshot from Black Swan (2010))

However, second puberty didn’t merely spread as a fear-mongering agenda to sabotage ourselves further with insecurities. Instead, it’s also an acknowledgment of shared experiences that could lead to a healthier way of self-consciousness.

The videos that talk of second puberty almost always start with the question, “Did you also experience the same thing?” or “Did you also notice this happened when you turned 21?” Scientifically, bodies replenish themselves through the cyclical notions of metabolism, genetics, and hormones. Just like everything else, people are also bound by time, and once this fact settles in, yearning for perfection seems far-fetched and, frankly, even disrespectful to the innate biology in one’s body and identity.

In a certain sense, the perceived abnormality of physical changes also reel people to a positive call to look inward and assess the habits that may have contributed to the change. Therefore, in a way, the experiences attached to second puberty are the harsh and physical manifestation of every “change of lifestyle” written in mandatory yearly check-ups.

Hand-me-down dresses

Screenshot from Marnie (1964)

(Screenshot from Marnie (1964))

During the holidays, I went home not only to a fruit-filled table but also to hand-me-down dresses from both my mom and my aunt messily stacked up in the sofas like the cake in Sleeping Beauty. My mom gave me hers because they’re too big on her now, while my aunt handed me hers because they became too small. At that moment, my paranoia on maintaining the ideal body disintegrated. In their stories, I was both the bigger one and the smaller one, and neither all at the same time. The beauty of that tradition—of being able to fit into another woman’s dress, of almost being endowed with their experiences when they wore it in the neon bluish time of the 1980s and in the millennial limbo of the 2010s—made me sentimental, making all of my doubts seemingly naive and pointless.

When dealing with body image issues, the antidote is acceptance. No one can stay in the same state until the end, and that’s when nostalgia plays its part. Reminiscing has always had its space in both my heart and mind, and they act on cue when pictures from the distant past resurfaces, and yet while in the process, I can’t escape from nitpicking the small things that have altered my appearance. I’m no stranger to the desperation to replay memories or have an obsessive yearning to completely change everything about myself, but I’ve learned through acceptance that we can only change our desires but not the world– wanting whatever’s not mine will only ruin my momentum forward.

It’s cruel as it is to view everything in binary—either as black or white, thick or thin, old or young, ugly or pretty. So when the realization dawns that our life is in constant struggle between the end and the beginning, then eating 12 grapes under the table—whether at 16, 25, or even 70 years old—doesn’t seem so weird anymore because the wishes for something beautiful, whatever it means to you at the moment, never stops in life.

Beauty

Body Dysmorphia

Adulthood

Puberty

Change

Profile picture of Francesca Maria Dela Cruz

Francesca Maria Dela Cruz

Blogs Writer

Francesca Maria Dela Cruz is a Blogs Writer at TomasinoWeb. As your local girly-girl, she’s a writer who delights in topics that touch the heart—whether it's on identity, beauty or love, her emotions are the ink to her whims. She also adores anything vintage; so sending a message about thrifting milkmaid tops, finding rococo-style decorations or even deep-diving about female figures, then she’ll probably think you’re cupid. If she doesn't reply, she’s most likely sleeping and cuddling her bunny, Georgie. Give her a little leeway because she’s the type to write her messages on her notes app first.

Comments

Loading comments...

Leave a Comment

*

*

(will not be displayed)

*