The 30’s is when the dysmorphia sets in.
First you’re thinking “damn, I look great”, and then you turn 40 and what you see in recent pictures doesn’t agree with your ancient self-image of fitness. Motion sickness hits in the mid section. You’ve become plagued with the grotesque and never noticed, though you always suspected.
And now it’s all you can think about.
“Why do my clothes hang like that now? And has anybody else noticed?”
And at that point, you know the answers. All of them.