My Story & Body Shaming
Commenting on other people's bodies, or rather, refraining from doing so, is a topic increasingly circulating not only on image-heavy platforms like Instagram, but also in the collective consciousness. The more people I meet, the more I realise that attitudes are changing, or at least, some thought is being invested into what is and is not acceptable or appropriate to say to someone about how they look.
Society is unhealthily and utterly obsessed with the amount of flesh on another human body, and this translates into how ordinary people communicate with or perceive each other. Thanks to a growing awareness of eating disorders, body image, and mental health, the voices demanding change are becoming louder. Large swathes of people, myself included, are heartily sick of enduring the judgemental and unsolicited comments doled out to those who don't quite fit the mould we've all been taught to consider 'the norm'.
As far as commenting on someone's weight or size is concerned, for whatever reason and in whatever context, most of us are guilty. I know I am. Weight gain often results in concerned looks at best, and deliberately cruel questions or comments at worst. Conversely, weight loss tends to incite an avalanche of compliments, even from people you barely know. The assumptions that weight gain represents all things negative, and weight loss is the pinnacle of all success, remain strong.
Since I was a child, I've felt a deeply troubling sense of elation whenever someone has commented on my weight loss, or told me I'm thinner/slimmer than someone I considered larger than myself. This is in part due to my father's unending (and disturbing) preoccupation with weight. When I was nine or ten, he bought me a pair of jeans which were several sizes too small. I knew as soon as I saw them that they wouldn't fit. I dreaded coming out of the bathroom to show him, but had to. His face said it all: disappointment, embarrassment, shame. He looked me up and down. My hips were spilling out the top because the jeans were so tight, the denim cutting into flesh. He slapped my hips hard so they wobbled and shook, and said "Well, you've got to stop eating so much butter, haven't you?" I remember going for a walk to the sea nearby, and wishing that I could just walk in and let it swallow me up so I didn't have to go back.Again, I recall being nine or ten years old, and taking a cookie from the bag I was sharing with my younger brother. From nowhere came the words "Are you going to wear those as a belt? You might as well."
The nightmare didn't stop with my father, but continued with friends, partners, colleagues, and family members. When these interactions happen on a regular basis, we learn to become obsessed with how we look in what we wear and to compare ourselves with others. Equally, eating so-called unhealthy food in public can incite feelings of anxiety, and eating a light salad can induce phrases such as 'oh, you're being good/sensible, are you dieting?' Moreover, thanks to decades of everyone from advertising companies to traditional and digital media perpetuating the idea that only certain clothes look good on a certain body, we have long become overly conscious of what we 'should' and 'shouldn't' wear according to our shape.
Disclaimer: I'm by no means innocent and have many a time made comments or had thoughts I shouldn't, and have spent the last couple of years dealing with that part of myself. It does however sadden me that I can still remember many unwanted words from people close to me, which affected how I saw myself and impacted my confidence. Such comments are always worse when they come out of thin air and take you by surprise.
But - I've lost enough sleep as a result of my relationship with my body and everyone else's opinion of it. I have questioned my sense of style, cried in front of the mirror, cried after doctor's visits, cried when stood on the scales, cried after trying on old clothes that no longer fit, cried in changing rooms, deliberately hurt myself, covered myself up even in searing heat, turned down the offer of food, been reluctant to let partners see me naked, abstained from swimming/going to the beach, and felt extreme anxiety at seeing people again after a long while when my body had changed in the meantime. I've had enough. If you have, too, you're not alone. Just look at the incredible proliferation of body positive influencers, most of whom are working hard to encourage change.
The most ridiculous thing is, despite the countless times I personally have had someone analyse my body and how they believe it could or should improve, I can sometimes just about pass for what many would call 'average size' (whatever that is) in certain outfits. So, if these are my experiences, I can only begin to imagine the kind of misery, cruelty, and thoughtlessness those with larger bodies than me endure from people who think it's acceptable to openly weigh them up against themselves and others around them.It hurts and frustrates me how much time I've wasted focusing on how I look. At the same time, accepting my body is a long and difficult journey, and unsolicited advice and comments only serve to slow my progress. Perhaps it's the same for you.
In my personal experience, comments on body size and shape are often linked to the assumption that everyone above a certain size must surely consume more than those smaller than them. This is simply not true. There are myriad factors affecting physical appearance and in any case, the time has come for us to stop dealing in assumptions. Weight loss can be, for many, a really great thing. For others it can be unwanted due to illness or trauma. We need to stop celebrating thinness and congratulating people on it. Weight gain can be unwanted and difficult to deal with for the individual in question, but is can also be the result of increased confidence, happiness, and, quite often, being in love.
To finish, I will say this: when you have the urge to comment on someone's body, don't think twice, but think ten times, and then, don't do it. Even if you're saying it because of your own feelings of inadequacy or insecurity, still, don't do it (I have, more times than I'd like to admit, but have learnt over a long period of time to stop). You might end up on a list someone keeps in their head of all the people who ever hurt their feelings and made them feel deeply unhappy in their own skin. Your comment might be the one that tips someone over the edge. What you say might mean someone refuses to eat, have sex, or wear a certain outfit that evening.
Accept people for who they are - we're all different and we're none of us perfect. 'Perfection' in regard to appearance simply does not exist in a world populated by billions of unique beings from all walks of life and in all shapes and sizes. What we all must do is consider why we have an opinion of someone else's body in the first place, and, and if they don't ask to hear it, don't give it to them. We all deserve self-worth, and to feel that happiness and comfort in our own bodies is achievable. I look forward to a world where we can all exist in peace, and where our bodies are the least important thing about us.
(P.S. A heartfelt and loving message to the incredible people at The Everyday, who actively encourage and support writers with the need or desire to submit this kind of content. It saddens me to write this as my last piece, but I am so, so grateful for having had the opportunity to write for the magazine in the first place. Thank you.)
Written by Amy Watson
Amy is a content manager originally from the UK and now proud to call Hamburg, Germany her new home. She is a passionate lover of cheese, literature, languages, modern art, and enjoys all four with copious amounts of red wine.
