Confessions of a formerly skinny girl: 10 affirmations to deal with weight discrimination
Autumn Fashion
Written by cjhammon in Life in Yesterday's Clothes
One morning last week I went to the gym and sat down on a bike next to my friend Amy, a retired human resources director for a jewelry company. Now in her early sixties, Amy is stronger and fitter than she was before she retired. “I could hardly walk a lap when I first started working out here,” she said.
Amy is a tall, leggy blonde who had always been as thin as a runway model. But she was not always healthy. Almost as soon as she retired, her doctor discovered a blockage in her heart. After surgery to repair the blockage, she gave up smoking and stepped up her exercise routine. Naturally, she gained a little weight. Which was just enough to make her trim, but definitely not skinny. “I don’t care about that,” she said. “I just want to be healthy.”
As two formerly skinny people, we both began to lament the various trials of being skinny: How we were skinny, but not fit. How it hurt to sit for long periods of time. How our hipbones jutted out unattractively in our clothes. And how other women hated us for being skinny. Through no fault or credit of our own, we were despised.
On the other side of us, another woman chimed in. “Well, I’ve been fat and I’ve been skinny, and I can definitely tell you that people treat you differently when you’re thin,” she said. “I’ve fought my weight all of my life, but people seem to think it’s a problem that could easily be cured if only I had the discipline to push myself away from the table.”
How heartbreaking it is to think that our national obsession with weight has divided the world into camps where everyone, regardless of weight, feels unfairly judged. It’s absurd. Pointless. Sad. No different than other practiced forms of discrimination like age, race, religion, political persuasion, or the new bias du jour, technology. What a great wad of suffering weight discrimination causes.
Not my Mama
I learned that when I was just a kid. On the handful of times my mom dressed up for a date with Dad, she’d let me come in and help her choose accessories. I studied her anguish as she poured herself into control top pantyhose and girdles. She hated being fat. And I hated seeing her unhappy over it. Loving her as I do, I thought she was beautiful just the way she was–which was pleasingly plump for most of her life.
When she trimmed down during my college years, I was startled to see how it changed her looks. I was happy for her, but she looked gaunt and drawn. This was not my Mom. Now in her 70s with several health battles under her belt, weight is hardly on her radar. Mostly, she seems to applaud my weight, as though I deserve credit for something that comes naturally. That’s unfortunate. Just as unfortunate as the fact that sometimes, other women loathe me almost instantly for being thin. Or so I have thought when no other explanation was apparent. We all know how difficult it is to turn the tide when we get off to a bad start.
Weight’s unwelcome role in female friendships
Perhaps it is some other trait of mine that has inspired dislike. Either way, I have occasionally sensed an unexplainable antipathy from other women that may be linked to differences in weight. That’s been especially hurtful when I really admired someone and had hopes of being friends. In some cases, I’ll admit that I’ve been persuaded to yield my hopes of friendship or mutual respect. If someone is willing to believe the worst about me with so little information, how is friendship possible? How can we estimate the degree to which weight alters our relationships with each other? Whether you’re the discriminator, the perceived discriminator, or the victim of discrimination, it all seems tragic.
Well, I’ve wrestled this topic long enough to touch some very tender spots for all of us. And yet, I haven’t said the half of all there is to say about our sad preoccupation with ideal weights. (“Whose ideal weight?” I want to ask.) The whole subject makes me weary.
Here are ten affirmations I believe with all my heart. They are the only principles I know that offset the unfairness of weight discrimination.
- I am not my body. And neither are you.
- Our bodies are shells for our spirits. We use them to live out our lives here on earth. Other than that, they have no significance at all.
- I respect my body as a created work that I had nothing to do with. Occasionally, I may loathe some aspect of it and wish to improve it. That’s common to all people.
- I am not superior/inferior to anyone for any reason, but especially not because of a body type that’s currently deemed socially acceptable/unacceptable.
- I can achieve happiness, healthiness, and better character regardless of my weight.
- I accept others for who they are inside and out. When I accept them, I learn to love them, despite all differences.
- I perform better and with greater ease when I am accepted, but I can be happy whether I am accepted or not.
- Whether I have benefitted unfairly or been penalized unfairly, I strive to bridge any gap that divides me from other people.
- I assume the best in other people.
- I take responsibility for the intentional and the unintentional aspects of my deeds. When I realize my errors, I try to correct them.
5 comments
October 21, 2011 at 1:45 pm
A few years ago, I completely changed my diet and exercise in an effort to get healthy and I lost about 50 lbs. I started noticing pretty quickly how much more unfriendly women were to me, as though I didn’t “understand” how they felt when they complained about their weight. I remember one incident in particular, with a new hairstylist, who was giving me quite the bitchy attitude about getting a pixie cut (that it would “look great on me because I’m lucky to be thin”). I had really had enough and so I pointed out that I used to be much heavier but I worked hard at it to get healthy. And I had always wanted a pixie cut but didn’t think it would look good being a short, heavy girl. This haircut was my reward for my hard work.
As soon as I mentioned that I was formerly heavy, her whole attitude (and that of the other women in the salon) changed instantly. I think this made me sadder though. I shouldn’t have to feel pressured to say I was heavy at one point in order for women to identify with me. If that inspires them, then that’s one thing. But this was quite another. I’m not going to apologize for my body shape just because you can’t find happiness with yourself.
October 21, 2011 at 3:15 pm
So glad this resonated with you, too, Miranda. Whichever side of the fence we’re on, it’s uncomfortable. Right on! You wear that pixie cut, girl!
October 22, 2011 at 6:11 am
Boy can I relate to all that you wrote. I know how people treat you when your fat and skinny. I know that allot of times in the past I have gotten jobs because of my looks. Nobody wants to hire an over weight women even if they are pretty. when your over weight people tend to scrutinize you. When I was thinner I had no problem finding a job. would set my mind to working and by the days end have a job. I know the economy is bad but looks and age do factor into getting a job no matter what the job is. Now that I am older also the age factor is also an issue. I guess it is human nature to judge others. my mother always told me that pretty is is pretty does.. so you can be a super model but act ugly and your not so pretty any more.. I believe that looks are born from the inside then it is shown on the out…
June 7, 2013 at 11:55 pm
I was tall, long legged and slim my whole life….until perimenopause hit and now I’m long legged, but with thicker legs, I look pregnant at 53 and I have a second chin . My confidence and self-esteem is not doing so well. When I see people I imagine they’re thinking “boy, she got fat”. I’m guessing I’m about 25 pound too heavy, so I know its not horrific, but I am embarrased. Loose clothes make me look fat. Fitted clothes make me look pregnant and nothing hides my chin. Do you think its harder for skinny women to accept themselves if they gain weight since they are not used to it. or maybe if they are identified as the tall skinny one. Now I just feel big.
June 8, 2013 at 6:59 am
Oh, yes, I quite agree with your assessment: it’s an identity crisis of sorts. We’re within a year of each other in age, so that explains it. We’re especially aware that we’ve had and lost something that society values more than it should–thinness. It’s natural that we developed some scars around that. I am starting to see this as a personal development opportunity.
The practice of yoga reminds me all the time that I am borrowing a body to live in–but I am not my body and my body is not me. And I’m also more and more concerned with how my body functions and less with how it all looks. (It’s hard to be too invested in a great pair of shoes when you can’t take a step without pain :0) Are you a fan of yoga?
I also think of my changed body as a chance to set a good example for younger women to develop the content of their character and feel good about their bodies at every stage of life. Would you trade what you know for that previous body type? Of course not. If we weren’t better people when we were thin, then we aren’t second-class citizens now that we’re not.
What we can’t change–and I argue that menopause is unchangeable– we must accept and even celebrate. I’ll bet you can wear lots of things and look fabulous in them, in ways you never could have in your former body. Our goal should be to feel so good about ourselves that it looks like a place younger women eagerly anticipate, no? We should be able to look at ourselves in the mirror and say, “Not bad, for 53.” I’m still working on it and some days, that’s easier than others! Thanks for a thoughtful comment. It stokes me to meet some of my sisters in menopause!