The Fat

I have previously discussed my complicated relationship with food and weight. I don’t think it’s an unusual story for many of us. I have found during covid, that I’ve put on weight and it’s brought up all sorts of messages and self-loathing, which I find disturbing.

I was remembering in high school, being anorexic and when I started to gain weight (so that I didn’t die!), a man from my gym, who I only knew from an aerobics class, found it entirely necessary and appropriate to tell me that I was gaining weight and I didn’t want to gain too much weight because that didn’t look good. Again, a man, whose name I didn’t even know, felt it was OK to tell me to stop gaining weight.

I had the same summer job at my uncle’s law firm all through high school. The summer before I went to college, I had put on enough weight to where I felt uncomfortable in my body. The first day I showed up at the office for work, a young man whom I had worked with for the previous three summers, walked up to me and also felt it was necessary and appropriate to tell me I had gained weight. No shit Sherlock, I thought, but I just smiled and felt absolutely humiliated.

In 2009, I had an accident and had to have my jaw wired shut for a month. Talk about a diet plan that works! I lost about 15 pounds and while I had not been overweight prior to the accident, I was now very noticeably a “thin person.” I was working in an office and an old man, whose name I did know, but I had very limited interaction with him, stopped me to say I looked really good and that I should make sure I don’t gain the weight back. Again, I just smiled and said nothing.

These run-ins with incredibly thoughtless (and clueless) men have stuck in my brain for years. Along with messages from popular culture, it’s no wonder a great deal of my self-worth is determined by the numbers on the scale.

Since then, I’ve been very thin and heavier than I would like, but not very overweight (at least according to the dreaded BMI score). I have several sizes of clothing in my closet and I’m not getting rid of anything because I just don’t know where I’ll be in any given day or month or year. I used to run several miles a day and since covid, I just haven’t felt like it. Some people have found this time to be an opportunity to become incredibly physically fit. I’m more like, “pass the dark chocolate chile pistachio bars please.” Covid depression, covid anxiety, covid insomnia, I feel like I’ve got it all and rather than being able to combat these maladies with healthy tools, it seems like I’ve reverted back to food as medicine. Thankfully, I have not gone into full throttle eating disorder mode. I don’t eat entire cheesecakes or anything (not a great example since I don’t care for cheesecake, except this one kind at the Cheesecake Factory, oh yum). I talk to people and they are also suffering from covid related mental fucked up-ness (yes that is in the DSM-V I’m pretty sure) so I know I’m not the only one. Connection with others is vital for humans if they don’t want to completely go off the rails. And it is helping to talk about it. I am slowly getting back to running and eating a little better, which does help my mental health.

I think what bothers me about the weight gain is that it bothers me so much. It makes me feel like a failure. It reminds me of those horrible men who thought it was ok to “inform” me that being “fat” is bad and being thin is good. Where does anyone get off thinking that’s ok to say to anyone???

I am a smart and creative person who does amazing things regardless of my weight. What does my pants size have to do with my ability to be a good wife and friend or write a paper for school? How does buying a size large t-shirt negatively affect my artistic skills? Can I only garden if I can fit into a size six dress?

And I hear the arguments about weight and how it affects health and I completely agree that good nutrition has many potentially positive health benefits. Yes, being obese can be hard on your joints or your heart. But I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about me feeling like a “bad person” because I can’t fit into my size four jeans. That’s just not ok. Beating ourselves up for not achieving impossible standards of what society deems beautiful is not ok. We are more than our physical selves.

I’ve noticed in commercials lately, a change in body type that is considered “normal.” I see women of all sizes hawking everything from swimsuits to body lotion. I’ve heard about movements for “fat acceptance” and “healthy at any size.” Athleta has mannequins in their storefronts from size zero to size 24. Celebrities, who are not a size two, confidently perform for audiences who go wild for them. I don’t know if any of this is getting into the brains of children. I hope it is. My wish is that they don’t get the same chip that I got when I was younger. The one that says they aren’t enough just as they are. One day, when some old man tells them that they have gained too much weight, I want them to have the necessary and appropriate response. “Fuck off!”