What Clay Taught Me About Control, Body Image, and Finding Joy in Healing

I didn’t expect a lump of clay to be part of my healing journey.

When I first showed up at a pottery class I was on a mission to find something besides work that brought me joy. I had been on a year long journey looking for a hobby, a creative outlet, something not tied to my work as a helping professional. What I found was something much more profound. I found a mirror. I found a relationship. I found a gentle, grounding practice that challenged how I related to control, my body, and even joy.

Eating Disorders and the Illusion of Control

If you've ever struggled with an eating disorder, you know how tightly it can grip every part of your life. It’s not just about food or weight. It's about managing emotions, trying to make the world feel predictable, and gripping onto any sense of control (especially when everything else feels overwhelming or out of reach).

Control becomes a coping strategy. A way to feel safe. But over time, that strategy becomes impossible. You might look in control on the outside, but inside, you're disconnected from your body, from your needs, and from your capacity for pleasure and play.

That’s exactly where I was when I started working with clay. And ironically, what I found in pottery was the exact opposite of control.

Clay Doesn’t Lie

Clay is honest. You can’t fake your way through sculpting or a wheel-throwing session. You can’t convince a ball of earth to comply with your perfectionism. Try to force it? It collapses, cracks or crumbles. Center it while your mind is elsewhere? It wobbles and spirals out. At first, I found this frustrating (it took me TWO years to get on the wheel after I didn't "master" it on the first intro class). I wanted results. I wanted mastery. I wanted to make “good” pots. But clay had other plans.

Over time, I began to notice something: The more I tried to dominate the clay, the less satisfying it felt. But the more I tuned into my breath, softened my grip, and let myself respond to the clay in real time, the more everything clicked. It wasn’t about controlling the outcome. It was about being in relationship with the material, with my body, and with the present moment.

I still remember the day I was making my nephew a panther for his birthday. I sat in the studio and just couldn’t get it to do what I "wanted." A wise pottery friend told me to stop working on it and go home. She said to come back when I was less frustrated. I did, and it ended up being one of the coolest sculptures I’ve made. But more than that, it was a lesson in listening to myself, listening to my body, taking a break, and coming back more regulated.

Sound familiar? That’s healing work in a nutshell.

From Perfectionism to Presence

What makes pottery so deeply therapeutic (especially for those healing from disordered eating or body shame) is that it invites imperfection. You don’t have to be “good” to belong in a studio. You just have to show up, get your hands dirty, and stay curious.

As I moved through my own journey, I realized how powerful it was to be in a space where my imperfections weren’t being judged or fixed. I started to show up not just for the pottery, but for my community of potters.  I was allowed to show up and simply be creative, skillful, joyful. I not only learned from my teacher but my community. That shift helped me rediscover something I’d lost: the ability to experience my body as a source of connection, not conflict.

And even more surprisingly, pottery awakened a sense of play I didn’t realize I had buried under all that seriousness. I wasn’t just healing. I was having fun.

Letting a Hobby Be Just Yours

We live in a culture that constantly pushes us to turn everything into a hustle. If you’re good at something, you should monetize it. Share it. Sell it. Turn it into content.

But my relationship with pottery has been fiercely personal. It’s mine. It doesn’t have to perform for anyone. It’s one of the few spaces in my life where I don’t feel the need to produce or be perfect. I just get to be. And that, in itself, is radical.

If you’re in recovery or doing any kind of body image work, you know how hard it can be to find joy that doesn’t come with strings attached. Pottery gave me that. And it gave me the idea for something I’d been dreaming about for a long time.

I’ve had this conversation with my clients so many times when I ask them: Who are you? What brings you joy? What do you do for fun? As you know, eating disorders and body shame take all of that away. As my clients experiment with these questions, it got me thinking. How can I support a community that’s also learning what brings them joy?

Introducing: Body of Clay – A Class for Body Image and Healing Through Pottery

Body of Clay was born out of this journey.

It’s a space where clay meets compassion. A place to explore your relationship with your body through the act of making. Whether you’re in active recovery, feeling disconnected from your body, or just curious about how art can support healing, this class is for you.

We’ll move through the basics of handbuilding all in a fat-affirming, inclusive studio environment. You don’t need to be an artist. You don’t need to know anything about clay. You just need to be open to letting go.

Because clay doesn’t care what you look like. It cares how you listen. And when you start listening—really listening—to the clay, you may find that you’re also learning to listen to yourself.

The Healing Power of Creation

There’s something incredibly powerful about making something with your own two hands. It roots you in the present. It helps regulate your nervous system. It brings a tactile, grounded sense of satisfaction that you just don’t get from a screen or a spreadsheet.

In clay, I found a practice that asked nothing of me but honesty. Some days I bring frustration. Some days I bring joy. Some days I bring grief. And the clay holds it all.

It’s not therapy. But it is therapeutic. And sometimes, that’s exactly what we need.

Join Me

If this resonates with you—if you’ve been searching for a creative, embodied, fat-affirming space to explore healing—I’d love to have you in Body of Clay. This isn’t about making perfect pots. It’s about making space for your whole self, one coil, slab, or spin at a time.

✨ Click here for more information about the Body of Clay Class and/or sign up✨

Come as you are. Leave with clay on your hands and a little more softness in your heart.

Dana Snook is the co-founder of Beyond and a proud diet culture dropout. A seasoned dietitian and body liberation advocate, Dana found her way to pottery during her own journey of self-discovery—and hasn’t looked back since.