#moody reflections

I’ve realized something about myself lately: I keep using Life is Strange as a lens to talk about real life. Not because I’m obsessed with the game (though I am), but because narrative games have a way of accidentally revealing the cultural waters we’re all swimming in. And this morning, something clicked for me, something I hadn’t consciously noticed before.

The character models in Life is Strange reflect the body image trends of the era they were created in.

Yes. Body trends. Because beauty standards aren’t timeless truths; they’re trends that shift every decade, dictated by industries that profit from our insecurities. And when Life is Strange was being developed, the dominant trend for girls and women was still thinness, the lingering shadow of the early 2000s.

I’m not even accounting for the exact release date. I’m talking about the cultural climate that shaped the design choices. Moving into the mid‑2010s, society was just beginning to accept more diverse body shapes for women. Men weren’t getting that same treatment, and honestly, I’m focusing on girls because the fashion, beauty, and wellness industries have always targeted and exploited girls more aggressively.

If you need proof, look at the cultural artifacts of the time:

America’s Next Top Model debuted in 2003, teaching girls that thinness was the price of worth.

The Biggest Loser turned weight loss into a televised spectacle, harming contestants for entertainment. Some nearly died. And the fitness/wellness industry hasn’t magically healed since then; it’s still toxic at its core.

Now, with social media, it’s even more dangerous.

Body‑based content performs well.

Fitness and wellness content performs even better.

And anything tied to money or “self‑improvement” performs best of all.

So people create content not to help, but to gain influence, because influence equals income, and income equals autonomy. Some creators speak with authority, eloquence, and confidence, but they’re pushing misinformation because it’s profitable. They’re building cult‑like followings under the guise of “helping people,” when really, they’re chasing power.

Not everyone is like that. I learned math on the YouTube platform and tested out of multiple classes because of it. But the creators who genuinely help rarely have a million followers or high‑retention editing. They’re not optimizing their humanity for the algorithm.

And this is why trends are dangerous:

They’re not organic.

They’re engineered.

How Life Is Strange Reflects These Trends

Look at the girls in the first Life is Strange:

Max, Chloe, Victoria, Rachel, Brooke — all thin.

All designed within the same narrow body ideal.

Alyssa is the only girl with a larger body mass, and she’s the one constantly bullied. Max spends half the game rewinding time to save her from humiliation or harm. Daniel, one of the few boys who doesn’t fit the “ideal,” is physically assaulted by football players in the hallway. Let’s call it what it is: assault. With video evidence, those boys would face charges.

But schools rarely protect kids. They protect reputations. They protect parents with influence. And parents who encourage their sons to “whoop someone’s ass” rarely consider the reality: if that same son accidentally kills someone, that’s manslaughter. Violence has consequences. Always.

The body designs in LIS1 weren’t neutral. They were a reflection of the beauty standards of the time: thinness as the default and as the ideal.

But look at the newer games:

True Colors. Double Exposure. Reunion.  

The characters have actual bodily distinctions. They look healthier, more realistic, more human. The shift is intentional. It mirrors the cultural shift toward body diversity, a shift that took far too long.

I’ve met so many adult women who used to look like Max or Chloe. Thin because of stress, pressure, or survival. And as their lives improved, as they found stability, love, better jobs, more meaningful days, they naturally got thicker. They look healthier. They look happier. Because they are.

Beauty Is Subjective — And Always Has Been

People act like there’s one universal ideal, but that’s projection. Attraction is personal. Some people love tall women, thick women, muscular women, feminine women, masc women. Some people fall for personality first. Some fall for how someone carries themselves.

I’ve always been drawn to thicker women, but I’ve also been fascinated by tall women and muscular women. Ultimately, I’m someone who falls for personality and conversation. And compatibility matters. Gym‑focused women spend hours at the gym, and that’s not my lifestyle. I like walking and mobility exercises that are 30‑minute sessions at home, and the rest of the day, I try to remain active in different ways. My life is built around solitude, creativity, and work that requires long stretches of being alone.

Streaming, gaming, and writing are solo pursuits. Even when people are in the room with me, I’m still in my own world. I’ve had friends watch me play horror games, screaming and clinging to me during Resident Evil 7. It’s fun, but it’s still my space.

The Real Point: Mental Sovereignty

I know I’ve wandered across topics, but here’s the truth I keep circling:

There is more to life than body image, beauty standards, fashion trends, and insecurity.

At some point, none of it matters.

The tighter you cling to society’s script, the more limited your life becomes.

And “living life” is subjective, too. Everyone wants something different.

But trends are man‑made.

Trends are tools of control.

Trends are designed to make you feel bad about yourself so someone else can profit.

When you realize that, you gain something priceless:

mental sovereignty.

And some people don’t want you to have that.

Because the moment you do, you’re no longer controllable.