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We are constantly redefining our own perspectives, and therefore tend to write a lot about our personal experiences. Many followers and contributors are living with anorexia, bulimia, body dysmorphic disorder, depression, and a variety of other body image disorders or mental illnesses, so please be respectful and remember that health applies differently to everyone. Any and all potentially triggering content will be prefaced with a trigger warning.
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Let’s talk about change for a moment.
That photo on the left was me at age 18, taken during my first year at college. The amount of hatred I harbored for myself was toxic. Like, really fucking toxic. I was approaching a relationship with someone I knew was not good for me, but I was so uncaring that I didn’t think I deserved any better. I put on a happy face and quietly cursed my body. I felt little to no respect for myself.
That photo on the right was taken a couple days ago when I couldn’t believe what I was wearing, but I kind of liked it, because I felt so vibrant and colorful - even if all the colors were clashing and the flowing nature of my outfit was not very “flattering”.
I felt powerful.
In the 6-7 years between the first photo and the second, I grew from a size 14 to an 18 - but that is the most insignificant aspect of the growth I have experienced.
18 year old me wanted to be vibrant, but was convinced that dimming my personality and hiding away was the only way to survive. These were habits that were taught. I hadn’t realized I could unlearn them.
24 year old me is making up for all of that lost time.
Yeah, I’m fatter. I could easily dwell on it and spiral back into self-hatred, or I could face the truth:
That I am fat and happy.
I’m happier and in a healthier frame of mind now than I ever have before and it is so good to be able to SEE that change and acknowledge it.
Because I am no longer afraid of being visible.
<3 Haley
I turned 24 today. Nothing like a birthday to inspire the kind of deep, retrospective reflection on life that can’t be articulated.
Historically, Fat Acceptance has framed body positivity in fairly stringent and problematic ways. I think a lot of work has been done to address these issues, but oftentimes these things get played out over and over again as new people come to the fold.
When you first discover body acceptance, after years and years of hating yourself and fucked up weight loss attempts and (for many) disordered eating, it can be so tempting to latch onto this mantra of “LOVE YOURSELF NO MATTER WHAT, THERE IS NO ROOM FOR COMPROMISE”. This results in a lot of fat activists advising others to simply “accept yourself”, and anything else is automatically Bad Activism.
Of course, not understanding the nuanced ways we experience ourselves/bodies and embracing this approach to self-acceptance often means trying (usually unsuccessfully) to sweep one’s more ambivalent feelings under the rug. It also means not being open to others’ discomfort with their own bodies in ways that can be racist, ableist, and cissexist.
In The ‘Fat’ Female Body, Sam Murray writes about one of the more insidious aspects of this kind of humanist logic: it reasserts a problematic dichotomy between mind and body. It says that we must, in our minds, overcome our bodies (and hatred of them). This is problematic for a couple of reasons: 1) this is the same strategy we are supposed to use, according to contemporary fat-hating society, to lose weight and become “normal” people, and 2) our bodies and minds are not ACTUALLY split—we perceive and understand the world THROUGH our bodies, and to imply that we can just “change our minds” about how it feels to be fat in a fat-hating world—in a world not made for our bodies—disregards this pretty important reality.
Long story short: it’s really crucial that we make room for bodily ambivalence in our activism.
All of this is to say that my own body has changed a bit in the last several months. After a couple years of staying at a steady weight without dieting, I have found myself facing an unexpected shift that has added nearly 30 lbs. to my person. I wouldn’t have known it was 30 lbs. (although I did know I had gained weight—I looked and felt different, and didn’t fit in my clothes the same way), except for the fact that my friend had a scale at her house, and I snuck a peek after weeks of wondering how much, exactly, I had gained.
Prior to knowing the exact number, I didn’t feel BAD about my body. I didn’t like some of the small mobility changes I was noticing (back pain happening after only walking a mile, not being as limber or flexible, pain after any extended period of time in one position, etc.) and I definitely didn’t like my clothes not fitting, but I still loved my body, the feel of it and the look of it. I didn’t blame my mobility and pain stuff on the weight gain, per se, but on a lack of physical activity in general.
Now that I know for sure that I’ve gained 30 lbs., I still don’t feel bad about my body, but I had a moment (or two or three) of feeling like a really bad fat activist. And knowing that exact number triggered a lot of shame in me: shame that I couldn’t help wanting to know the number, shame that I had picked an arbitrary number that I didn’t want to be “over” and when I wasn’t I felt relieved, shame that the act of weighing myself triggered diet-y, weight loss-y feelings in me, shame that I felt shame.
I’m gonna be real honest with y’all right now: gaining a lot of weight really quickly kinda sucks, similarly to how losing a lot of weight really quickly, or any other swift changes in our bodies, can throw us for a loop.
And I’m struggling with What To Do about it. In the distant past when I have gained weight my response has been to crash diet. I’m obviously not going to do that; I’m not going to engage in anything that could be called a “lifestyle change” or that involves me eating less of the things I love. I might try to practice some more intuitive eating—eating that requires that I check in with my body instead of just feeding it the easiest/cheapest things. I will be moving my body more, in an effort to stave off the pain I’ve been feeling lately as a result of my inactivity. And I’ll be working on continuing to love my body, to feel good as a body, to treat me with kindness and respect. I’m going to work on the shame I feel when I experience bodily ambivalence. I’m going to work on cultivating an activism that has room for all the ways I experience being fat in a fat-hating world. I’m going to work on understanding my self as a whole, not a split between a wispy being of thoughts and feelings and a separate, solid thing made of fat flesh and bones.
And I’m maybe not gonna step on a scale again. That shit fucks with my head.
This work is hard. But absolutely, certainly, 100% positively worth it. NOW GO LOVE YOURSELVES OR ELSE.
All the fucking feels in the world right now, this just accurately explains how I feel about everything, ~*~*~body ambivalence~*~*~ y’all
We are all working on different things. I am working on trusting that my body knows what’s up. That for me, “health” is hard (if not impossible) to define, and that’s okay - all I can truly define is my state of mind. Moving my body in pleasant ways alters my mood and my mind in a positive way. Stepping on a scale alters my mood and mind in the most hateful, shameful, and negative way possible. One of these things is not like the other.
I haven’t weighed myself in 4 months because I haven’t had access to a scale or the opportunity to subject myself to stepping on one. When I take that opportunity away it becomes harder, not impossible. I still impulsively step on scales when I see them, I still think that looking at a number is going to validate something. It’s buried in my head, something I acknowledge in my brain but can’t get my limbs to listen to.
A while ago, I designed a poster that said “Life is too short to spend it hating your body” with the best of intentions at the time, but I’ve come to understand that hating your body and the inevitable changes it goes through is simply a part of life. It happens. It’s fucking normal. So is love. It’s a balance, not a face-off.
I love your blog and everything you stand for. I’m having a bit of a problem and hope you can help me? I’m 20, 5’10” and 200lbs. I used to be 170lbs. I’m really struggling to accept my “new” body. I don’t know if I should just (for lack of better words) quit trying and accept it, or if I should try to lose weight. I want to accept it, but don’t know if I can..
——
I know this feeling all too well, so I will speak from my experience. I’ve gained about 30 pounds in the past couple of years and still have a hard time owning this new space my body takes up. Stretch marks seemed to pop up over night and I am still getting used to them. So I made this the other night while I was thinking about it and snapping photos of my lightning bolts, and I made this one day (GIF EPILEPSY WARNING) when I was feeling really great about my tummy. Everyone has their own unique way to deal, understand, and cope with their feelings about their body.
Change can be frightening, when your visible self and the way people perceive you seems so out of your control, but it helps to deconstruct those feelings. Think about what is in your control.
My fat, skin, physical health, mental health, wellness, and body, are ever-changing crazy things that adapt to the elements. I’ve also got some genetic and chronic conditions that contribute to my definition of health. I know I have no firm grasp of control over these things and I strive to accept that fact with a “take it as it comes” kind of mentality.
I could try to guess what weight would be “healthiest” for me or strive to lose weight if that would really make me happy, but it doesn’t. I could try to minimized my stretch marks with creams and go on a rigid diet if that would make me happy, but it doesn’t.
So I focus on what keeps me happy, makes me feel sane, and try very much not to beat myself up about the things I may or may not be able to change. Because in my past, whenever I strove for change in regards to my weight or my dress size, I never got what I “wanted”. It was a cycle of hate and unhealthy habits and ways of thinking. So I broke it, and I’m not turning back. Or I try not to. There are still times when I think, “Should I have tried this?” “Maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough” - but the truth is I tried everything, and I tried super hard. I have always been overweight. I’m accepting it and moving on with my life.
Some people enjoy working out just to work out, or enjoy eating a certain way because it makes them happy - it’s unique to everyone. You could decide to make goals with losing weight in mind if that is what you really want, if that is what you think will help you find happiness, contentment, and acceptance with your body. But based on my experience, in doing so you’re already setting yourself up to fail by having an ideal to live up to, even if you think it’s reasonable. Ideals are never as attainable as you want them to be, so why waste time chasing after a number on the scale when you could enjoy being the person you are now, right this moment, regardless? Again, this is just my perspective.
We all have our own journeys and ways of finding out and defining what health and wellness and happiness and beauty means to us, and they never, ever end. Through it all, you only have yourself. Even when bumps come along and you’re struggling with yourself, there is always time to set it right again.
There was a period in the last year where something triggered in me a desire to suddenly join Weight Watchers. And a gym. I knew fully well I was setting myself up to fail. I knew through trial and error that I didn’t need WW and public exercise, I needed mindful, intuitive eating and movement that is appropriate for me. But my mind was suddenly back in destructive mode, “weight loss” mode, and I snapped myself out of it once I reminded myself why this method never worked before. Because it simply isn’t for me.
It all comes down to you. I can’t say it enough, or remind myself of it enough, and it’s easy to forget although it seems so simple. You don’t owe anything to anyone else but you.
It’s a difficult pattern to break when you spend a lot of your time thinking about food. It’s a preoccupation that’s complicated by other factors such as a desire to lose weight, gain weight, tone up, lower calorie intake, and the list goes on. It’s one thing to think about what you’re going to…
“The process of change can only get better the more you’re willing to accept yourself.”
Really lovely read.