So, there isn’t a very nice way to say this… I’m fat. I am. I weigh about 85 kg and I haven’t even weighed myself in the last few weeks that I have been home, eating cereal like it is my job, so I’m being generous. I’m 1,58 cm. I should weigh between 53 kg and 62 kg. That’s my healthy weight. So, I’m obese, according to the numbers.
The thing is, I know that. We all know it. If you’re 5 kg or 50 kg overweight, you usually know it. Unless you’re one of those clueless women with a size XL ass that try to fit into an XS, which I have witnessed when I worked at H&M. But that’s their thing, they want to wear an XS and we should not judge.
I know damn well I don’t fit in an extra small size. For anything. Not even a small. Usually I can fit an M or an L, comfortably. I know all of this. It’s my body, you would think that I’m aware of my body, right? But no. Some people, usually with good intentions, make a point to tell me that I’m fat. Thank you? I wouldn’t know it if you didn’t tell me? Is that what I should answer? I’ve run out of polite answers, because it is so frequent.
There’s always the person who hasn’t seen you in a long time and who makes a point to say “Wow, you’ve gained weight”. Uhhh… Thank you? What can I say to this person?
Then, there’s always the aunt or cousin or friend or whatever, at the table, when you’re eating something you shouldn’t, who thinks it’s their life’s mission to say “be careful, that is really fattening”… Okay, now it will taste like guilt you bitch!!
Why are people like this? I know I’m fat. I know I’m fatter. I know it damn well. My clothes don’t fit, I eat emotionally, I see the numbers go up on the scale… I’m aware that I’m fat. I cry about it too. I feel like shit, I’m ashamed to eat in public because I always imagine strangers thinking “there she is, that fat pig stuffing her face”. I’m too shy to take pictures because I don’t want to see myself. Same goes for mirrors. Shopping? Nightmare.
Every day I’m afraid I will run into an old schoolmate, one of those boys who said I was the prettiest girl in the whole school, and that they will think “damn, look where she ended up”. I’m afraid I will run into an old boyfriend and that he will think “thank god she wasn’t like that when I dated her”. Those are the things that occupy my mind, all the time. So you can be sure, I know. You don’t need to say anything. Please don’t say anything.
And you know what makes me even more sad? I’ve been to the other side. Briefly, but long enough to know what it feels like to be what people consider too thin. I was fourteen or fifteen years old and I just lost a lot of weight so I was pretty small. Not even 50 kg. And people wouldn’t leave me alone for that. “What happened to your ass”, they would say. Or, “I can see your hip bones poking through your skin, you look sick”. Or the classic one “you need to eat something”. I’ve been to both sides. No one has it easy.
People are so obsessed about weight that they cannot stop themselves when it comes to making comments. If I lose 10 kg now, I now that I will hear “Oh, you look so much better now”, which they think it’s not offensive at all.
My point is, please stop making comments about people’s weight. It’s never okay.
Don’t think I’m not guilty of this or that I’m any better, because I’m not. I’m not sure I’m the type of person to make a comment but I know I think about it. “Wow, she looks thinner”. Sentences like this one have crossed my mind many times. I also think I would look better if I was thinner. Is it true? Probably. Do I think that because of what society expects of me? Probably. What should I do then? I have no idea.