I was talking to my bud Liz a few days ago about how I find certain things annoying. Specifically, I roll my eyes at some of the fat-positive articles out there that will do anything possible to avoid using the word "fat." I saw one this morning that said something like, "here are pictures of individuals with double chins."
That is true. I am an individual with a double chin. But wow, what a cumbersome title. I get that some people (and I guess let's specifically talk about women because 1. I can talk about that from experience and 2. most articles I see are aimed at women, since most people don't care if men are fat or not) don't like being called "fat" and/or don't like it used as an adjective. Fine. (Although, that might risk maintaining "fat" as a dirty word.) Then title your article "Pictures of all kinds of people!" or "You can have a double chin and still look hot as hell!"
Rantity rant rant but this got me thinking... I have no clue how to talk about being fat. I know how I feel about it, but talking about it can be a bit like walking on eggshells. Some skinny people really are not fond of hearing about it. Some of them equate fat positivity with skinny shaming, some think that being fat is an unhealthy and therefore irresponsible way of living. Some fat people don't like talking about it for other reasons; Some of us agree with the healthy lifestyle thing, some of us don't. Some of us are uncomfortable talking about weight, some of us aren't. And so on. So I'm just gonna talk about a few of the complexities and dilemmas that go on in *my* head. Maybe you can relate, maybe not.
I think it takes about two decades, but at some point we mature enough to realize that every person is beautiful. The problem is that an unbelievable amount of people will tell fat people, and fat women especially, that they shouldn't feel good about themselves or confident or beautiful until they're a "healthy" weight.
Oh man, that pisses me off like nothing else.
For starters, it's just not true. Every person is born with beauty that can't be measured on a BMI chart.
On top of that, I've never met a single person who is motivated by self-hate. I got fat when I got depressed. Not necessarily because I was feeling badly about myself - it's just that my depression doesn't kid around with that "loss of interest" thing. I stopped doing anything. I went from playing sports, enjoying hiking and walks, plus being socially active to doing nothing. Looking back, it makes me really sad. I feel like in some ways I missed out on literal years of my life. But yes. I got fat and that's when I started to feel bad about the way I looked. (To clarify, I thought I was fat before this time. I was around 160-180 when active, and I thought I was a whale. Now I look at pictures and I think I was a good size. But before the depression and the 100 extra pounds, thinking I was fat didn't change how I acted. I didn't hesitate to play a game of basketball or to put on nice clothes.) I'm completely certain that when I started to think I was completely hideous, it became almost impossible for me to try to lose weight.
Feeling like you are beautiful (or at least that there is something attractive about you, more on that in a sec) makes a world of difference. It's easier to motivate yourself when you have a little confidence. In my case, I lost exactly zero pounds when I was at my worst. I used to walk around in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, which is fine if you want to be walking around in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. It's problematic if you let that become your uniform for no reason other than you think it hides your fat. Hell, I used to put basically no effort into getting dressed simply because I thought it was useless, that it was flat out impossible for me to look nice at that weight. I didn't even give thought to my face or hair. I used to just throw that shit up in a bun and go. Skin care? Lotion? Nope. Wasn't worth it, there wasn't a point - I was fat and therefore could not look nice. I wasn't going to waste time trying.
You can see where I'm going with this. People should feel confident regardless of how they look. Heavy people should feel confident whether or not they're trying to lose weight - and it's damn near impossible to start losing weight if you're filled with self-loathing.
People who tell fat women they shouldn't feel beautiful or confident until they're a "healthy" weight are misguided at best and monsters at worst. Don't be one of those people.
"Feeling beautiful" is easier said than done, though. I am not some shiny, shimmering well of confidence and kind of pathetically?, I usually have to fake confidence to have any semblance of real confidence. When I finally realized that confidence was probably necessary for, you know, everything, I started to look for little things about myself that I thought were attractive. I know myself and I know that becoming confident will probably take literal decades, but I also know I can trick myself into anything, include a better state of mind. Finding and focusing on something attractive meant I could slowly lean myself into confidence and then into lifestyle changes.
But I was (and still often am) a cesspool of self-doubt. Originally, I couldn't find anything good to focus on. I know. But luckily I have friends who don't fuck around and they helped in that department. Ha, this cracks me up: one of my friends even sends me this song from time to time, usually with a smiley face.
I guess she wants to remind me that just because *society* doesn't put big asses on a pedestal doesn't mean we shouldn't.
Which is another point: I've had to just change how I look at certain things. I used to want to look sleek and elegant and basically like Kate Middleton. In reality I'm a frizzified ginger with a body that is... not like Kate Middleton's. Instead of holding a lifelong funeral for my dream look, I've had to instead embrace having uncontrollable, huge red hair and an ass that doesn't quit, as it were.
It's been freeing. I let my hair do its thing (usually). I get a lot of compliments on it, which is cool. Remember the part where I said I have trouble with confidence and I have to fake it? Well, it might not be ideal (because it should probably come from within), but some of my confidence comes from other people, from knowing I look alright. And it's a sort of domino effect from there (or snowball effect?! One of those.). Start feeling better about myself, start treating myself better, start wearing clothes that actually fit (bye, sweatshirt!), realize I can look attractive. You get it. And once all that happened, it became easier to lose weight. Not everyone wants to lose weight, but I definitely did/do, so it was a welcome change.
I guess my point is that confidence is important. And luckily, it's possible to learn to be confident even if you've grown up without much sense of self-worth.
But there's another sort of difficult topic that comes up whenever we talk about weight: health.
I'm not going to pretend I don't get especially annoyed when very thin people subtly berate fat people by throwing the word "health" into the mix. "I'm so glad she loves her body as is but doesn't she worry about health?!" I've seen that comment so many times on various social media posts or stories. If you're honestly concerned about a friend's weight affecting her health, that's one thing. You hopefully know how to talk to your friends and know what boundaries may or may not exist. I have two friends who I know have worried about my health in the past, specifically because of my weight. To me at least, that's different from commenting on a stranger's picture. It doesn't offend me, and since it's a conversation with friends, everything is explained.
The problem is when folks (men and other women alike) feel the need to comment on other people, especially people they don't know. "She should worry about her health" is, most often, a thinly veiled fat-shaming comment. The way I know this is that I've never seen anyone post a comment on a picture of a bikini clad and extremely tanned thin women lamenting the apparent excessive exposure to sun. I've read oodles of lighthearted posts that glorify drinking loads of alcohol - I've not seen comments from a concerned citizenry outlining the health risks of alcohol. But as soon as there's a post that features a heavy woman looking damn fine, suddenly everyone is a doctor. It isn't a general concern for others if the only time it appears is in the presence of a fat person.
And though it's beside the point, being "heavy" doesn't necessarily mean a person is unhealthy. I've been losing weight, but I'm still obese. And just a few weeks ago I was still technically morbidly obese. And guess what?! My cholesterol is just dandy! My joints aren't buckling under my weight! Blood sugar is A-OK. If you read this blog even semi-regularly, you know I have health issues. Not one of them has been caused by weight. Being fat doesn't mean you're ignoring your health, and I really wish people would stop acting like it.
That said, is there any truth to it? Does being overweight make you unhealthy? I think it's clear that it's risky. I'm not unhealthy right now because of my weight. I have plenty of perfectly healthy overweight friends. But it does increase chances of developing certain diseases. It can also make things like childbearing a little riskier than it would be otherwise. And if you have an existing health issue unrelated to weight, being overweight can make your symptoms worse. To me, that's a sort of grey area; It's not unhealthy, but it's something to consider.
And on that, everyone is going to be different. Some people won't mind increased risks. (You remember the study that just caused a widespread sadness? The one that said bacon is a sort of carcinogen or whatever? Yeah. I don't doubt it, but I don't care, either. To be fully honest, I care about my life and I hope to live long but I also hope to live fully and bacon is terrific. That's a risk or a trade off that I'm fine taking, as are many other people.) Other people will look at the risks caused by obesity and try and maintain a "healthy" weight. Either choice is cool.
When I got serious about losing weight and I started to actually follow through, I laid out some rules for myself. I'd never use food as a punishment. I wouldn't ever entirely swear off a delicious type of food just because of the calorie count. If I want to, I will eat a sweet snack or dessert. I won't put food or food choices above experiences or people. I will enjoy eating and I will enjoy food.
When I think back to some of my favorite moments over the last few years, many of them involve food. Sunday nights watching Once Upon a Time over a delicious home cooked meal. Pizza and wings for football games. Going to Barnes and Noble with Liz after pigging out on mall food. I value those things more than I value being a size 10. It's hard for me to respect people who insist that other people make diet changes that don't fall into their value system.
My own rules are to not over indulge (if I'm full, I won't keep eating just because I love the taste), to not drink soda for every meal, to try very hard not to eat when I'm bored, to be physically active, and to eat a variety of foods. Ultimately my hope was that these rules would lead to a well rounded and healthy life, and I feel like I'm absolutely getting there.
For a little while, I'd feel bad for wanting to lose weight, or at least for talking about it publicly. I almost felt as though I was insulting people who are perfectly content being overweight. (I think this is part of why I have trouble talking about weight.) Then one day it hit me that, you know, not everything is about me. Just because I want something doesn't mean other people want the same thing, and more importantly (because I think it's what was driving the guilt), it doesn't mean anyone is wrong for not wanting to lose weight.
That said, it's a sensitive topic to talk about. There are a million reasons to want to lose weight. There are a million reasons to not worry about losing weight.
My own experience is the former. Now, if I had to change one thing about myself, or magically bestow one quality, it would have nothing to do with weight. Being thin is not my number one goal in life. But I like how I look much better when I'm not as overweight as I am now. My face is totally different than it used to be, and I'm not wildly fond of it. I also don't like certain physical aspects (like, I can feel my double chin and it just feels in the way. no thanks!). And those health risks? I don't want to take them. I figure I've spent more time in doctors offices and being poked by needles than I could ever have wanted, and I'd like to NOT have as many health issues when I'm older. Maybe I'll still have some of the medical problems I have now, maybe I won't. But I don't want to risk adding to that list. I've also started to value my body more, and I want to take care of it - that doesn't mean maintaining a certain weight, but it did mean I had to stop eating fast food every single day, which has helped take a few of the pounds off.
This has turned into an epic rambling. I don't even remember my original point. But I do know that we should probably get rid of shame when we talk about weight.
__
Charlotte
You can see where I'm going with this. People should feel confident regardless of how they look. Heavy people should feel confident whether or not they're trying to lose weight - and it's damn near impossible to start losing weight if you're filled with self-loathing.
People who tell fat women they shouldn't feel beautiful or confident until they're a "healthy" weight are misguided at best and monsters at worst. Don't be one of those people.
"Feeling beautiful" is easier said than done, though. I am not some shiny, shimmering well of confidence and kind of pathetically?, I usually have to fake confidence to have any semblance of real confidence. When I finally realized that confidence was probably necessary for, you know, everything, I started to look for little things about myself that I thought were attractive. I know myself and I know that becoming confident will probably take literal decades, but I also know I can trick myself into anything, include a better state of mind. Finding and focusing on something attractive meant I could slowly lean myself into confidence and then into lifestyle changes.
But I was (and still often am) a cesspool of self-doubt. Originally, I couldn't find anything good to focus on. I know. But luckily I have friends who don't fuck around and they helped in that department. Ha, this cracks me up: one of my friends even sends me this song from time to time, usually with a smiley face.
I guess she wants to remind me that just because *society* doesn't put big asses on a pedestal doesn't mean we shouldn't.
Which is another point: I've had to just change how I look at certain things. I used to want to look sleek and elegant and basically like Kate Middleton. In reality I'm a frizzified ginger with a body that is... not like Kate Middleton's. Instead of holding a lifelong funeral for my dream look, I've had to instead embrace having uncontrollable, huge red hair and an ass that doesn't quit, as it were.
It's been freeing. I let my hair do its thing (usually). I get a lot of compliments on it, which is cool. Remember the part where I said I have trouble with confidence and I have to fake it? Well, it might not be ideal (because it should probably come from within), but some of my confidence comes from other people, from knowing I look alright. And it's a sort of domino effect from there (or snowball effect?! One of those.). Start feeling better about myself, start treating myself better, start wearing clothes that actually fit (bye, sweatshirt!), realize I can look attractive. You get it. And once all that happened, it became easier to lose weight. Not everyone wants to lose weight, but I definitely did/do, so it was a welcome change.
I guess my point is that confidence is important. And luckily, it's possible to learn to be confident even if you've grown up without much sense of self-worth.
But there's another sort of difficult topic that comes up whenever we talk about weight: health.
I'm not going to pretend I don't get especially annoyed when very thin people subtly berate fat people by throwing the word "health" into the mix. "I'm so glad she loves her body as is but doesn't she worry about health?!" I've seen that comment so many times on various social media posts or stories. If you're honestly concerned about a friend's weight affecting her health, that's one thing. You hopefully know how to talk to your friends and know what boundaries may or may not exist. I have two friends who I know have worried about my health in the past, specifically because of my weight. To me at least, that's different from commenting on a stranger's picture. It doesn't offend me, and since it's a conversation with friends, everything is explained.
The problem is when folks (men and other women alike) feel the need to comment on other people, especially people they don't know. "She should worry about her health" is, most often, a thinly veiled fat-shaming comment. The way I know this is that I've never seen anyone post a comment on a picture of a bikini clad and extremely tanned thin women lamenting the apparent excessive exposure to sun. I've read oodles of lighthearted posts that glorify drinking loads of alcohol - I've not seen comments from a concerned citizenry outlining the health risks of alcohol. But as soon as there's a post that features a heavy woman looking damn fine, suddenly everyone is a doctor. It isn't a general concern for others if the only time it appears is in the presence of a fat person.
And though it's beside the point, being "heavy" doesn't necessarily mean a person is unhealthy. I've been losing weight, but I'm still obese. And just a few weeks ago I was still technically morbidly obese. And guess what?! My cholesterol is just dandy! My joints aren't buckling under my weight! Blood sugar is A-OK. If you read this blog even semi-regularly, you know I have health issues. Not one of them has been caused by weight. Being fat doesn't mean you're ignoring your health, and I really wish people would stop acting like it.
That said, is there any truth to it? Does being overweight make you unhealthy? I think it's clear that it's risky. I'm not unhealthy right now because of my weight. I have plenty of perfectly healthy overweight friends. But it does increase chances of developing certain diseases. It can also make things like childbearing a little riskier than it would be otherwise. And if you have an existing health issue unrelated to weight, being overweight can make your symptoms worse. To me, that's a sort of grey area; It's not unhealthy, but it's something to consider.
And on that, everyone is going to be different. Some people won't mind increased risks. (You remember the study that just caused a widespread sadness? The one that said bacon is a sort of carcinogen or whatever? Yeah. I don't doubt it, but I don't care, either. To be fully honest, I care about my life and I hope to live long but I also hope to live fully and bacon is terrific. That's a risk or a trade off that I'm fine taking, as are many other people.) Other people will look at the risks caused by obesity and try and maintain a "healthy" weight. Either choice is cool.
When I got serious about losing weight and I started to actually follow through, I laid out some rules for myself. I'd never use food as a punishment. I wouldn't ever entirely swear off a delicious type of food just because of the calorie count. If I want to, I will eat a sweet snack or dessert. I won't put food or food choices above experiences or people. I will enjoy eating and I will enjoy food.
When I think back to some of my favorite moments over the last few years, many of them involve food. Sunday nights watching Once Upon a Time over a delicious home cooked meal. Pizza and wings for football games. Going to Barnes and Noble with Liz after pigging out on mall food. I value those things more than I value being a size 10. It's hard for me to respect people who insist that other people make diet changes that don't fall into their value system.
My own rules are to not over indulge (if I'm full, I won't keep eating just because I love the taste), to not drink soda for every meal, to try very hard not to eat when I'm bored, to be physically active, and to eat a variety of foods. Ultimately my hope was that these rules would lead to a well rounded and healthy life, and I feel like I'm absolutely getting there.
For a little while, I'd feel bad for wanting to lose weight, or at least for talking about it publicly. I almost felt as though I was insulting people who are perfectly content being overweight. (I think this is part of why I have trouble talking about weight.) Then one day it hit me that, you know, not everything is about me. Just because I want something doesn't mean other people want the same thing, and more importantly (because I think it's what was driving the guilt), it doesn't mean anyone is wrong for not wanting to lose weight.
That said, it's a sensitive topic to talk about. There are a million reasons to want to lose weight. There are a million reasons to not worry about losing weight.
My own experience is the former. Now, if I had to change one thing about myself, or magically bestow one quality, it would have nothing to do with weight. Being thin is not my number one goal in life. But I like how I look much better when I'm not as overweight as I am now. My face is totally different than it used to be, and I'm not wildly fond of it. I also don't like certain physical aspects (like, I can feel my double chin and it just feels in the way. no thanks!). And those health risks? I don't want to take them. I figure I've spent more time in doctors offices and being poked by needles than I could ever have wanted, and I'd like to NOT have as many health issues when I'm older. Maybe I'll still have some of the medical problems I have now, maybe I won't. But I don't want to risk adding to that list. I've also started to value my body more, and I want to take care of it - that doesn't mean maintaining a certain weight, but it did mean I had to stop eating fast food every single day, which has helped take a few of the pounds off.
This has turned into an epic rambling. I don't even remember my original point. But I do know that we should probably get rid of shame when we talk about weight.
__
Charlotte
