I was a year into my own weight loss journey with a “transformation coach” who was guiding me through diet and exercise after having my second baby; I’d lost almost 18 pounds. Safely encased in clothes, I felt good, even while wearing tight gym gear. But taking my Monday morning progress pictures could put a damper on my mood (at best) or make me spiral into complete self-loathing and subsequent fuck-it comfort eating (at worst). 

My problem was my lower belly, which seemed resistant to everything I tried. I found it repulsive to look at. So I mostly didn’t, except on Monday mornings; at the request of my coach, I stood in front of the mirror and took a headless photo of my body under harsh overhead spotlights. I was usually dressed in ill-fitting panties, which admittedly didn’t help. 

Not every Monday started the same. There were some weeks when those photos really did lift my spirits. I liked the look of that hint of an ab muscle on my flanks, or a slimmer, more toned thigh; even more helpful was when my coach would hone in on certain body parts, returning my images with hand-drawn circles that illustrated my progress, along with motivational cheer. It was helpful to see myself through her kinder eyes. 

One thing is undeniable: progress photos have completely colonized our fitness lives. Scroll through Instagram or TikTok on any given morning, and you will encounter dozens of them: side-by-side revelations that function simultaneously as personal testimony, marketing brochure, and aspirational fantasy. The hashtag #transformationtuesday alone has attracted hundreds of millions of posts.

The deluge has meant we are more confronted with women’s bodies than ever, and algorithms mean it’s harder than ever to opt out. And while fitness posts can be inspiring, they can also be intimidating. Most women wait until they feel more confident or have already lost some weight before they start taking progress photos. Our conditioning says to us: we are not yet worthy of documenting. It’s reinforced every time we log online, and the cycle continues because it’s rare we see an image from someone’s true starting point. The result: online, there is a dearth of relatable bodies. We have been warped to imagine that every woman under the age of 40 is in possession of a well-defined set of abs. 

Progress pictures are not a new practice, but they have risen in popularity and prominence in tandem with social media. The Australian personal trainer Kayla Itsines, whose workout programmes went viral before there was even a word for it, arguably put progress pictures on the map for most women. Some 12 million women worldwide have used Itsines’ method to start training. Time magazine named Itsines one of the thirty most influential people on the Internet. 

She adds that the regularity of the photos has “given me good information about normal fluctuations (like bloating and what my belly looks like during my various menstrual cycles).”

Ashley Damaj is a behaviour therapist based in Florida and founder of Mothership Wellness, a holistic coaching website; she’s also a Danimás contributor. She agrees that progress pictures are a useful tool for her clients to keep on track and stay motivated, but is mindful that “they’re not for everyone,” she warns. “Some people find them too triggering.” If that’s you, she suggests measuring your body or judging progress by how clothes fit. “It’s a case-by-case basis,” she says. 

Damaj says that the main problem with the selfies we take in our bathrooms is the setup itself. It’s not you, it’s your environment. “No one’s body looks hot in the standard, clockwise rotation we take progress photos,” she says, of the slightly hunched stances people naturally adopt. Interior lighting, unfortunate mirror angles and a lack of space all compound. 

Natural light and fake tan can also help, according to Damaj. Also, choose underwear you feel confident in, stand up straight, tidy the room behind you, and brush your hair first: all those tiny changes add up to make you feel more in control, and therefore, less vulnerable. Instead of a mirror selfie, try using a tripod: it can help you shoot from all angles. 

Damaj also says we should learn the art of angles from those who compete in bodybuilding competitions. “You’re taught that a slight tilt of the hips, or flexing the bicep, really shows off the body,” she says. “I wish I could teach everyone to take photos of themselves like that.” With a slight pose comes a sense of power. “They’d really love their own pictures,” she says. 

The reason to push on is that you can regret not taking them. And more than that, you deserve to take them: progress photos that chart your entire journey show you just how far you have come, and are a kind acknowledgement to yourself of all your time, effort and intention. Training is hard, and progress pictures are a weekly reminder of the work. You definitely don’t need to lose 5 pounds before you start. 

Now, with the distance of time, I’m actually pleased I have a few of those old “before” photos on my camera roll. In moments of generosity to myself, I am proud of the woman battling sleepless nights to get up at 5am and lift weights in front of a gently amused baby in a bouncer. But these days, I am happier when my coach takes pictures of me, clothed, in the gym, showing a ripped back or pulling an increasingly heavy sledge. Progress pictures, I’ve learned, can come in different formats. 

HOW TO TAKE PROGRESS PICTURES