What makes one person’s body inherently better than another? Why are skinny bodies more valuable than bodies with more fat on them? Is it because we believe skinny people have more self-control? Is it because we believe skinny people are consuming fewer resources than fat people? In an art history course in college, I learned that pre-nineteenth century, fat bodies were considered more glamorous and desirable because it illustrated wealth and access to lavish meals. Now rich people are skinny because they can afford expensive meal plans, personal trainers, and, if all else fails, corrective surgery.
I have lived my life viewing thin and conventionally attractive people on television, in movies, commercials, on billboards and book covers and come to subconsciously believe that skinny people were the only people worth depicting. I have compared my body to those of almost every other person I have ever met, sizing up which of us was a better person, based solely on how much or little extra cushion we carried around the midsection. In ballet classes I would look in the mirror at myself surrounded by my classmates, and hope that there was at least one girl fatter than me. Now, in my mid-twenties, I look around at the hodge-podge mix of adults assembled for beginner tap on Wednesday nights, and hope the same thing.
Two years ago I lost over 30 pounds and weighed less than I ever had at my current height, my BMI being lower than it’s ever been before. I thought “Aha! I’ve finally done it! I finally deserve love from myself and others!” Now I could start dating, wearing bikinis, and dancing more freely. I had completely fallen into the trap that society set up for me. Guess what, folks. I gained weight. Almost all the weight I lost is now back on my body. Maybe it is in a slightly different distribution of fat and muscle, but a lot of it is fat. And a lot of my clothes don’t fit right. And all that self-love that I allowed myself to feel when I was thin is gone. In fact, I think my self-loathing has been amplified. Not only have I lost the image that I had always idolized, I have failed. When I was losing weight, people would congratulate me. They said things like “good for you!” They would claim to be impressed, inspired, and proud. It felt like my value had increased in their eyes. Would it not be rational to conclude that I am unimpressive, discouraging, and a let-down, now that I have gained back the weight? I walk through the world now with the added chore of trying to hide my weight-gain, as well as constant loathing self-talk running through my subconscious. I thought I had discovered what I needed to be happy. Everything clicked into place, but now that I realize it was unsustainable, do I have to resign to never being fully happy?
There is so much work that has been happening beneath the surface. I have learned a lot about my eating habits, included self-diagnosing with disordered eating in the form of an overeating addiction. I cannot count the number of times I have told myself “today will be different.” I would devise a new plan that would regulate the chemicals in my brain and keep me from going back to the pantry or fridge on a mindless loop. Eventually all my plans would fail and I would be eating myself sick on yogurt and granola at 10 pm, only to wake up in the middle of the night bloated, parched, and disgusted with myself. These episodes are much rarer and less extreme these days, mostly thanks to my therapist and a lot of effort being put into mindfulness around food, but in no small part due to being more open about my struggles and chipping away at the internalized shame.
This all leads me back to my body. I am ashamed to say that I do not love my body today. I did not love it yesterday either, and I do not know if I’ll be ready to love it tomorrow. I still compare my body to every other body I see. I am ashamed because I still believe that skinny bodies are better and I would like to believe that all bodies are equally valuable, including mine. There are a lot of norms “society” has tried to push down my throat that have been much easier to shake. Why does this one stick with me? I think it is because I still dream of being skinny and being one of the special ones. I am ashamed to admit this.
I cannot know what my body will look like in the future. But I do know that I am not giving up on happiness. My shame around eating has decreased since I have been more honest, and my overeating episodes have become less intense and less frequent, as well. I am hopeful that being honest with myself and others about my struggle with body positivity will help those beliefs subside and allow me to disentangle body size from a person’s value. I do not want to believe that bodies with less fat are superior, and I’m starting my quest for freedom from this belief with addressing it head on.