What I See in My Classroom
After twenty years of teaching English in Japan, with 90% of my students being women, I’ve noticed something that genuinely concerns me. It’s not about judgment—it’s about the weight I see these bright, capable women carrying.
I watch students checking their reflection in phone screens during lessons, adjusting makeup, fidgeting with clothing. These are intelligent, accomplished women—nurses, office workers, mothers—yet something pulls their attention away from learning toward how they’re being perceived.
As someone who cares about these students, I can’t help but wonder: when did the pressure to be constantly “desirable” become so overwhelming?
The Exhausting Performance
I’m no expert on what women experience—how could I be? But I observe the effects. Students arriving to class stressed about their appearance, apologizing for not wearing makeup, worrying about photos being taken during group activities.
There’s an energy drain I recognize, having seen it countless times. It’s not vanity—it’s anxiety. The pressure to maintain a certain image seems exhausting in ways I, as a man, will never fully understand.
What strikes me isn’t individual choices, but the system that makes women feel they need to be “on” all the time. Social media amplifies this—endless images of perfection, constant comparison, the feeling that everyone’s watching and judging.
Learning from the Past
I think about actresses like Grace Kelly in Hitchcock’s films—confident, elegant, commanding respect through presence rather than exposure. Not because she was prudish, but because she understood something about lasting impact.
There’s a difference between choosing to be attractive and feeling compelled to be constantly performing attractiveness. One comes from confidence, the other from insecurity manufactured by a culture that profits from women’s self-doubt.
I’m not nostalgic for “the good old days”—every era has its problems. But I do wonder if we’ve lost something important about the distinction between being genuinely appealing and feeling pressured to advertise yourself.
The Real Cost
What worries me most is the distraction from what actually matters. These students are pursuing education, building careers, raising families—yet mental energy gets diverted to appearance anxiety that serves no one.
I’ve had conversations with students who express frustration about this pressure. They know it’s somewhat manufactured, yet feel trapped by social expectations. Dating apps, social media, workplace dynamics—all seem to reinforce the message that appearance is paramount.
It’s not their fault. The system is designed to make women feel insufficient so they’ll buy solutions to problems they don’t really have.
Different Pressures, Same Humanity
As a man, I face different pressures—financial success, physical strength, emotional stoicism. We all carry cultural expectations that don’t always serve us well. But the appearance pressure on women seems particularly relentless and starts so young.
I don’t pretend to have solutions. I just see talented women diminishing themselves, apologizing for natural aging, feeling inadequate because they don’t match filtered images of people they’ve never met.
Some of my students have found peace by stepping back from social media, focusing on spiritual growth, or simply deciding to opt out of the comparison game. They describe relief—like setting down a heavy backpack they didn’t realize they were carrying.
What Actually Impresses
In my classroom, what impresses me isn’t appearance—it’s curiosity, kindness, the willingness to make mistakes while learning. The students who grow most are those focused on communication rather than how they look while communicating.
Confidence that comes from competence, knowledge, character—that’s magnetic in ways that manufactured desirability never is. But our culture doesn’t sell that message because you can’t monetize genuine self-worth as easily as insecurity.
I’ve seen older students, freed from some of these pressures, blossom in ways their younger selves couldn’t. There’s something beautiful about watching someone focus entirely on ideas rather than image.
The Teacher’s Perspective
My job is to create an environment where learning happens. When students are preoccupied with appearance, it creates barriers to real connection and growth. Not because they’re shallow, but because the cultural programming is so strong.
I try to model that substance matters more than surface. I focus on their ideas, their progress, their humanity. Small gesture, perhaps, but maybe it offers a brief respite from the exhausting performance our culture demands.
The best moments in teaching happen when guards come down, when real communication flows. That requires feeling safe, accepted, valued for something deeper than appearance.
A Concern, Not a Criticism
This isn’t criticism of individual choices—everyone deserves to present themselves however feels right. It’s concern about a system that profits from women’s insecurity and makes genuine confidence harder to achieve.
I worry about the energy drain, the mental real estate occupied by appearance anxiety, the way it can dim the brilliant lights I see in my students. They have so much to offer the world beyond how they look while offering it.
Maybe the real revolution is simply refusing to participate in the comparison game. Choosing substance over surface not as moral superiority, but as practical wisdom—a way to reclaim mental space for what actually matters.
What’s your experience with these pressures? Have you found ways to step back from the comparison game, or noticed how appearance anxiety affects focus and confidence? I’m genuinely curious about perspectives from all sides of this issue.
This comes from a place of care, not judgment. I’d love to hear your thoughts on navigating these cultural pressures while staying true to what you actually value.
