Do you have life dysmorphia? This is why we're really all so unhappy...

Cosmopolitan

a day ago

It was a pink-skied, birdsong-soundtracked dawn moment when I realised I had managed to extricate myself from the treadmill of compare and despair that has provided the backdrop to my 20s and much of my 30s. I was 38, feeding my newborn daughter. You could fairly argue I was just engaged in a new status game – and I'm conscious of my 'aha' moment looking like soft-focused, blush-toned PR for the cult of motherhood. (Sidenote: becoming a parent brings with it a truckload of new stressors and much market-fuelled cause for comparison, so I wouldn't endorse it as a solution to feeling blah about your current circumstances.)
But what is writing for if not for being honest – and that's when the penny dropped for me. And while it's good that it finally did, what a waste of time that it took me until almost 40 and having birthed a child to stop clouding every achievement in a fog of inadequacy. What a waste of life and my many societal privileges that I didn't let myself enjoy the wins, gifts and blessings I had because I was so focused on what I didn't.
I don't want this for you, Cosmo reader; so it's with the hope of helping you extricate yourself from the misery of ceaseless comparison much quicker than I managed that I, over the following pages, will grapple with the what, why and how of this very modern malady: what's been coined 'life dysmorphia'.
Much like its body-based equivalent – body dysmorphia being an anxiety disorder where you fixate on your physical flaws to the extent that your actual estimation of how you look is way off – life dysmorphia refers to a disconnect. This time, it's the one that many in the West have while objectively enjoying the greatest living standards in human history but, simultaneously, really... not feeling that way, according to plunging rates of life satisfaction.
Earlier this year, the World Happiness Report – an annual barometer of wellbeing – recorded 'disconcerting drops [in happiness], especially in North America and western Europe.' The UK was placed 23rd in the global ranking, while the US took the 24th spot – its lowest ranking ever. Elsewhere, The Priory reports 37% of women in the UK live with high levels of anxiety, while research from Mind and Office for National Statistics reveal soaring levels of depression and stress, particularly among younger adults.
Amid a backdrop of economic, political and social instability – see: the climate crisis, leaders playing chicken with the economy, rise of far-right political parties across the globe – much of our collective gloom makes sense. But are we making things harder for ourselves? And what can we do to feel happier in the here and now?
Everything, those in the business of self- improvement say, starts with mindset. So it was to them I turned first for answers. 'Look, the truth is that, in many ways, we've never had it so good,' Jacqueline Hurst, one of the UK's leading life coaches tells me, in a tone that reminds me of Leo Woodall's 'If you can't be satisfied living now, here, you're never gonna be satisfied' monologue in season two of The White Lotus.
She would argue the case for life dysmorphia being, very much, A Thing. 'Historically speaking, women today are incredibly lucky: we're living the dreams of our great-grandmothers [a generation who fought for the vote and suffered the atrocities of WWI]; we're doing things they never could,' she adds. 'But we also live in a culture of navel- gazing; an era defined by individualism. Younger generations are encouraged to celebrate wealth and material possessions like never before – and while this mentality isn't exactly new, social media has seen our human tendency to compete explode.'
One way this can manifest is in a toxic cycle of spending to keep pace with the looks and lifestyles of a consumer world that now operates at the breakneck, incessant speed of a TikTok explainer video. A study by Credit Karma states that Gen Zers and millennials collectively spend £400+ a month imitating influencers, with seven in 10 going into debt as a result.
This is how things began to spiral for Amber*. 'It started with a few splurges: a Chloé purse here, a Smythson notebook there,' the 28-year-old tells me. 'When I qualified as a solicitor, I felt like I could justify buying the same sort of luxury goods influencers normalise. I would scroll through TikTok and Instagram, making a shopping list of status items that signalled success,' she confides. 'I spent £1,500 on a shearling coat I barely wore.'
Things came to a head when Amber's rent was unexpectedly hiked and she was forced to confront her spiralling spending habits. 'My utility bills were through the roof, food costs had shot up and my landlord suddenly wanted to charge me 25% extra. In the end, I moved back in with Mum, £13,000 in debt and on the brink of declaring myself bankrupt – which would have jeopardised my job,' she recalls. 'I'm ashamed of the financial mess I'm in. I can't afford to move out, dating has become harder because I'm at home and now I'm worrying about my biological clock ticking, too.'
But for every tale of five-figure debt amassed by accumulating luxuries beyond your means, there are thousands of young women struggling to afford to exist – let alone progress – at a time when living cost increases dramatically outpace any growth in wages; which, in turn, are taxed more aggressively than wealth, creating a widening inequality gap and a disillusion- driving gulf in living standards. Late-stage capitalism feels bleak for many right now – and while we'll allow a wry laugh at the recession indicator memes on our timeline, the economics of daily life is no joke.
When you consider this, the idea that the nation's misery is a perception issue rooted in too much screen time and shallow consumerism starts to feel like borderline gaslighting. Is the issue here actually less about 'life dysmorphia' and more about real material disparity – both between wealth demographics and with what we've been raised to expect out of life versus its reality?
For Liz Hunter, commercial director at MoneyExpert.com, it's a noxious mix of both. 'In the early 20th century, the main focus was on basic survival and economic stability,' she explains. 'Now women are bombarded with messages promoting consumerism, while battling the economic landscape left by COVID-19, the cost-of- living crisis, rising interest rates and rents, as well as wage stagnation. All this means many are likely to be financially worse off now than they were prior to 2020.'
She tells me she's worried about the cumulative impact of these pressures on women's self-esteem: 'Financial success is often used as a measure of worth, and the pressure to achieve it can lead to insecurity, self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy when people feel they aren't meeting these expectations.'
This is especially true when you consider that we're not just struggling to keep up with influencers or the insatiable trends cycle. For many young women, the misery stems from the bleak economic realities of not being able to reach traditional markers of adulthood. A report by the McKinsey Global Institute credits high property prices and record student debts with ensuring younger generations are, for the first time since the industrial revolution, poorer than their parents; something that's seen many re-write long-established life scripts. This leads many women to delay, opt out of – or be straight-up priced out of– motherhood.
'There have been genuine setbacks in our ability to reach the same milestones as previous generations,' adds BACP counsellor Ragini Jha. But she believes that our digital culture amplifies the emotional weight of these very real economic challenges. 'The pressure to meet key life events early – and visibly – has intensified because of our culture of self-display.'
Her take resonates with Alex, 33, a travel comms specialist who is from London, but who emigrated to Sydney after she turned 30 – to deal with the struggle of not being able to meet traditional adult milestones. 'As friends bought houses and started having kids, I felt stuck. I didn't have a partner and couldn't afford a house on my own. I threw myself into work and kept thinking I would meet someone; that when I did, I would be 'normal'. But stress and anxiety took its toll.'
Ultimately, her bold move paid off: 'Relocating to the other side of the world has given me the breathing space to work out what's important to me, rather than what society expects of me. That shift in perspective has made me happier.'
Charlotte's move for tackling her own life malaise was less dramatic. Now 40, and working in food PR, from London, she started a book club. 'It's more than women meeting to discuss the same book: it's the physical, loyal, intentional interweaving of our lives and it's culturally enriching, too,' she tells me. 'There's usually some cooking, wine and living-room dancing… But there's always laughter, debate and soul-baring. My cup is filled up in a way an online community could never replicate.'
For Stephanie Harrison, philosopher and founder of The New Happy (@newhappyco), making shifts from social comparison to social contribution is essential for rebuilding happiness. 'Our societal unhappiness stems from a broken definition,' she tells me. 'We've been told that happiness comes from achievement, perfection and independence. But the data says these things actually lead to disconnection, burnout and depression. If you want to be happy, there are two things you need to do: be who you really are – and use who you are to help other people. Happiness is about connection.'
Importantly, human connection: 'How many people are turning to AI to ask a question, instead of asking their friends? It feels innocuous, but when we pull back from these small exchanges of care, we're also pulling back from relationships – our source of joy and purpose.'
Harrison's is a genuinely emboldening call to action. 'We are standing at a crossroads,' she says, emphatically. 'We can keep moving forward with the current trajectory – more disconnection, more competition, more self-focus – or we can choose something radically different.'
This is not about trying to positive think your way out of a deeply psychologically tough moment. Yes, we're broadly better off than in times past but we're also living through a period of unmet economic promises, while watching intersecting crises and humanitarian atrocities play out on the same timeline that serves up friends' engagement posts and your favourite creators' insecurity- inducing photo dumps. Nor is this about trying to eradicate stabs of envy over others having what you want (impossible, really).
It's pouring into the people, places and acts that make you – a human animal, not a product or a commodity that needs to be perfected – feel connected and alive. As Hurst puts it: 'Contentment is hidden in the things capitalism tells you not to value. Cherish loved ones, time in nature, the small moments – and train your mind to notice them.