Shape & Size: The Body Shame
I am thin. I have always been thin. I will likely continue to be thin in the future. My body shape and weight have never corresponded with my diet or medical history. You may read this and feel annoyed right away, and that’s fine. But I feel it’s important to acknowledge this up front.
I recognize the many people who envy thinness, for a variety of personal and cultural reasons.
This essay is not a complaint about my body. Hardly. I’m writing to shed light on and expand the lens of how we view other people’s bodies in general – big, small, and everything in between. And to perhaps offer an alternate perspective on labeling and taking about another person’s body, even when we think it’s harmless.
During my life, different foods came and went as I weaved through various health conditions. Though my weight and body shape have managed to stay the same throughout (and I am grateful for this), I am far from perfect.
To date, I’ve struggled with several ailments, many of which have been chronic. They include (but are not limited to):
· IBS (irritable bowel syndrome)
· SIBO (small intestinal bacterial overgrowth)
· C-Diff
· Post cholecystectomy syndrome
· Depression
· Anxiety
· Agoraphobia
· Amenorrhea
Many people struggle with body image, trying to change to meet (often unrealistic and unhealthy) external expectations. We live in a world that praises thinness, and sees curvier figures as “the other.” For example, plus-size models are a separate category of models, making thin models the norm. We don’t call thin models “thin models”—we call them models, setting the standard that models are “supposed to be” thin. (See also “gay wedding,” “black comedy,” and, “women directors.”)
I absolutely hate when people talk about my body. I’m particularly bothered that just existing seems to be an invitation for others to say things about me (“Thanks, but I didn’t ask for your opinion/advice/permission”). I always appreciate a good compliment (who doesn’t?!), but only if it’s a sincere one. In my personal experience, compliments are often masking judgmental assumptions that are anywhere from annoying to downright hurtful.
I’ve made no secret of my health journey, all the trials and errors, the setbacks, and the growths. Like many of you on your own road to recovery, you know it’s not easy, quick, or pleasant. There’s no flip switch that makes you go from sick to optimally healthy overnight. For me, eating and choosing foods hasn’t been simple. I’ve often felt confused, deprived, cheated, depressed, and envious of others who didn’t have digestive issues.
And yet, time and time again, other women tell me how “lucky” I am to be able to eat what I want, completely bypassing my reality, where that is anything but true. I often have to hold back tears as I realize they are looking at my food intake strictly through their individual lens (weight), not mine (digestion).
Though I never considered weight as a factor in what I chose to eat, I have often been terrified of certain foods, worried they would make me feel sick, bring on a bout of diarrhea, or cause intestinal inflammation. This imaginary idea others have about me (that I can eat whatever I want) only makes me want to scream.
The grass is always greener, I guess. Others might risk abdominal pain when they eat that slice of pizza, if it means not gaining weight. Whereas I would love to scarf down that pizza if I felt fine afterwards and the only side effect was a few extra pounds.
Having a peer assume I can eat whatever I want is only one sore spot for me. I wouldn’t be writing about this if these comments just came from a few unaware or inconsiderate people. However, medical professionals have made similar comments to me over the years, often leaving me sad, speechless, sitting on the exam table wondering why “Tact 101” wasn’t taught in medical school.
Case in point: Many years ago, I was taking a medicine called Cholestyramine to treat chronic diarrhea. It was a chalky powder I had to mix with water and take daily. It was disgusting. I went to a new PCP for a checkup, and she asked me what medications I was taking. I told her about the Cholestyramine, and why I was taking it. When she heard me say, “Chronic diarrhea,” she immediately responded: “I bet it’s worth it, to be that skinny!”
Needless to say, I never want back to her.
Around that same time, I ran into a woman in the bathroom at my job. Without so much as a “Hello” or “How are you?” she looked over at me and said, “You are so skinny! You should eat more!” Once again, I found myself paralyzed to respond, temporarily frozen by rage and confusion. What she didn’t know was, at that time, I was struggling with Binge Eating Disorder, and was eating literally every hour. Chicken, beef, eggs, rice, bread, fruits, veggies, yogurt, all day, every day–trust me, I was eating plenty.
More recently, I was having my blood drawn at a brand new GI doctor’s office. The nurse taking my vitals knew zero about me. No medical history to reference, no personal information. She asked me if I exercise, and I honestly answered, “A little yoga sometimes,” and she concluded, “Ahhh, that’s why you’re so in shape!”
A month before that I was doing an intake session with an allergist. She asked me normal intake questions, including what I do for a living. I told her I work as a writer at a nutrition school. “Aha!” she said. “That’s why you’re so thin!”
I smiled politely. At this point, I was used to these one-off, no-basis comments. Besides, pretty soon, she unknowingly confirmed that her comment had more to do with her own insecurities. “I’ve been trying to lose these stubborn 10 lbs for months now,” she added. “No matter what I do, I can’t seem to shake these last few pounds!” Once again I smiled politely. I wasn’t about to embark on a health coaching session with my allergist during my appointment.
I’ve often wanted to respond back sarcastically to these comments by saying, “Oh, my God! You’re right! Thank you for solving this big mystery for me! I’m so glad you, Stranger, know me better than I know myself!” And once in a while I do snap back, but for the most part, I don’t waste energy correcting a stranger, especially if they are driven by their own priorities around appearance.
No one should have to defend themselves, prove anything, or list out all the reasons why statements like these are wrong and hurtful. But having these drive-by comments flung at you automatically positions you on the defensive, in a game you never even signed up to play.
We fear what we don’t understand. I can only assume this is part of the reason why people have always spoken to me this way.
We see someone who exhibits traits, feelings, or appearances that are new or unknown to us. Maybe we haven’t had the same experience, and therefore, find it difficult to understand (e.g. “By the time I was that age, my metabolism slowed down/I can’t shake this baby weight/carbs go right to my ass”). The image we see of another person’s body may not fit into our schema, and we are desperate to make sense of it (“She’s skinny and over 30? She must have an eating disorder!”).
Another reason people make these comments is because we’ve been conditioned to think it’s okay to talk about other people’s bodies. We’ve normalized this way of being. It’s become more than tolerable—it’s acceptable. This in turn makes people of all shapes and sizes self-conscious. The people being talked about, AND the people doing the talking can feel equally bad about themselves.
When we subscribe to constantly looking at others’ appearances, judging them, envying them, criticizing them, even complimenting them, we are perpetuating this notion that who we are and how we look right now is not okay or not enough.
And how can we ignore the role the internet and social media have played in body shaming. We have visual representations, many highly edited and curated, bombarding our eyes non-stop, giving us endless fodder to feast on!
This essay is not meant to shame anyone for shaming or judging others. We all do it, or at least have done it. It’s part of our cultural upbringing. We have all made assumptions that what comes out of our mouth is harmless, even supportive, not realizing the other person may not perceive it that way. And we have all made unsolicited comments to (or at least about) others.
This essay is merely an offering to see this behavior in a new light. To understand that:
· not all comments you deem compliments are received as such.
· not everyone sees thinness as a goal, nor is thinness inherently good or bad, or indicative of a healthy/unhealthy lifestyle.
· physical and emotional health are not necessarily correlated with body shape or size (a person can be overweight and malnourished).
· body shaming takes on many forms, no matter how good the intentions are, and that anyone of any size can be a victim of it.
· we never know what someone is struggling with privately (whether it be a GI disorder, an eating disorder, infertility, the inability to lose/gain weight, depression, family troubles, etc.).
· the very act of speaking about other people’s bodies has the potential to make them AND you feel bad about themselves.
In this essay, I’ve chosen to focus on weight and body size, but by now, I’m hoping we can see how this can be taken further with other aspects of appearance and lifestyle. Do you comment on people’s hair? skin? clothing? teeth? diet? eating habits? home? The list goes on.
When it comes to how others look, act, and live, it’s a personal choice we neither have to understand nor agree with. If someone offends us directly with their behavior, by all means, we should address it. Otherwise, it may be helpful to practice abstaining from commenting. Instead, let’s observe our inclinations to comment on others. No need to judge or reprimand ourselves harshly (again, this is our conditioning, and we all do it), but just get curious when we feel the pull to say something about someone else.
Questions to ask yourself as you get curious:
· Where is it coming from?
· Why do you associate X with Y?
· What do you hope to gain by making this comment?
· Does it remind you of anything you are struggling with, or have struggled with?
· Have you had a similar experience and do you assume this other person feels the same way you do?