Since becoming involved in size acceptance, somewhere back around the end of 2000, I’ve had a series of comings-out.
I first had to tell my husband and family I was quitting my diet, and all further weight loss attempts. That was a little hard, since I’d been such a devoted and obnoxiously voceriferous dieter (I’m sure you can imagine, given how obnoxiously vociferous a fat acceptance activist I now am. The more things change, the more they stay the same.)
Eventually, I got around to telling my friends, too. In the process, I discovered something that startled: every single one of my female friends had the same issues with weight, eating, and body image that I’d, until then, imagined were my own personal neuroses. I was floored to discover just how common these problems are, and how good we are at hiding them from each other.
I started writing online around 2002, in a personal journal-thingy, as I was discovering more of the literature on health and weight and dieting, and as I came to my decision to pursue a nutrition degree. I had catty drama-filled fights with pro-ana bloggers and with dedicated dieters, and we all did a lot of pearl-clutching at how insane we each thought the other was. Eventually, I realized that, despite appearances, we really were all on the same team, struggling in different ways, using different methods, with the very same problems.
The first time I spoke in public, to real, live people, about Health at Every Size and my own decision to accept myself was in the late summer of 2002. I nearly peed my pants before standing up in front of my biology class and saying loud and clear, I’m a fat lady and I think that’s okay. I thought I would be pelted with rotten tomatoes. Instead, people rushed to encourage and thank me. I was bowled over by just how needed the message of size acceptance was.
I then proceeded through school, writing papers about weight and Health at Every Size and body image whenever the opportunity presented. I did a couple more presentations where I talked frankly about how I’m a fat lady and I think that’s okay. Again, I never received the rotten tomatoes that I never failed to imagine I somehow deserved.
I wrote for and was active on Big Fat Blog for a number of years; I attended a conference about Fat Studies and met heroes — truly kind, scarily intelligent, morally advanced people.
And this has been an inventory of all the ways in which I didn’t hide.
But there were other parts of my life. There was work at the hospital, or rather, hospitals. Despite being a visibly, unapologetically fat person working in nutrition, I was hiding. I never told my bosses about my extracurricular activities, about my interest in fat acceptance.
The closest I came was when, once, my boss asked me what I was writing my term paper on, and I said, “Health at Every Size.” When another dietitian (who I love dearly) asked me how I felt about my own weight, I responded with a hedging, “As long as I’m healthy…”
I put a quote by Marilyn Wann on the wall above my desk, as a reminder of my principles in an environment that was sometimes hostile to my beliefs. It said, “You can’t hate people for their own good.” Sometimes my volunteers asked what it meant, and I mumbled something about prejudice and discrimination. I never explained it to anyone. I was hiding.
This September, I concluded my work as a diet tech at the hospitals. I had the good fortune to work in many areas (like eating disorders and oncology, and with frail, older inpatients) where my job was to encourage, not discourage, eating and enjoyment of food, where any focus on weight was more toward gaining than losing. This made me happy, and I believe my own comfort with food and my body gave me a special knack in this, because there was no inner conflict for me in encouraging people to eat and be satisfied with themselves. But still — I was hiding.
When I began this website and began using my real name in emails and when talking to the media, it scared the shit out of me. When I knew that I had to cowgirl up and actually start promoting myself, admitting to the fatosphere that I’m a nutritionist, and admitting to the nutrition world that I’m one of those fringe fat acceptance nuts, it scared the shit out of me. My cover was blown.
And, predictably, I took some heat for all that. It wasn’t unexpected, but it still scared the shit out of me. I also took a lot of sweetness for it, from people who have been encouraging and admiring and thankful. This, I wasn’t expecting — the sweetness scared the shit out of me, too.
I’ve been in the habit, for a long time, of singing in empty rooms, of reading my poems to no one in particular, of deliberately flying under the radar. It’s a comfortable place for me, for though I’ve always had a streak of the performer in me, I’ve also always abhorred a crowd, hated to have eyeballs on me unless protected by full costume and greasepaint.
To stand here, unaided by artifice, for people to yea or nay my value as a contributor to this world, has been unthinkable to me. I suppose because I take that vote seriously. I integrate it into my valuation of myself.
And now, here I am. Not only have I opened myself up for judgment, I have staked my professional reputation, and possibly the ability to feed and shelter myself, on my name, on this page on the internet. I have sworn like a sailor, I have proclaimed that a lot of nutrition is bullshit, and I have encouraged people to do the unthinkable by feeding their kids dessert twice a day. I’ve ruined the façade that I so carefully cultivated and conserved, and I’m not entirely sure, now, what to do with myself.
My only option remains to construct something new from these remnants.
But I’m struggling. I am not, by nature or training, a carpenter. I’m someone who sits at the back of the class, who covers her writing with her hand, who doesn’t answer the telephone — who, in short, keeps secrets.
But if I’m truly okay with who and what I am, there shouldn’t be a need for secrets, or to shrink from the yeas and nays. The referendum on my right to exist should be fixed, and I should have full right of veto.
Writing this blog is as much about helping people come to terms with their eating as it about helping myself come to terms with being visible. I apologize in advance that you will be exposed to a lot of the messiness and self-indulgence inherent in that process, but you can skip over those parts if you like. There will be times when it will seem like I am talking to myself, because, well — sometimes I am. It’s a habit that isn’t so easily extinguished. I suppose it’s a way of clearing my throat for the actual singing that must be done, whether I like it or not, before an audience.
Ellyn Satter said something this past week that made sense to me: “Somehow, going over and over a thing takes the bother out of it.”
So that’s what I’ll be doing here, taking the bother out of, finally, showing you my face.
39 Comments
I have a hammer you can borrow. I’d advise starting with something simple, maybe a box. You can keep things in it, then use it to carry them to where you’re going, and when you’re ready, you can stand on it to make sure we can hear you.
What a lovely face you bring to the world. Thank you for your honesty and your bravery. I very much look forward to seeing what comes next.
Consider this a resounding vote of confidence from a faithful reader!
From one hospital staff to another: “Brava!!!”.
I know what it’s like to feel like you are standing up against an entire medical establishment. You are fierce and awesome, and as long as you publish it in this blog, you’ll never be speaking to an empty room.
Thank you for writing this. Seriously. Thank you so much.
I am pursuing my Master’s right now, in counseling, and…I think about this sort of thing a lot. I am the queen of don’t-mind-me. Don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here with a comment. Don’t mind me, but I have something important to say. Don’t mind me, and please don’t think I’m smart or pay any attention to me at all. Because I fear speaking up, I fear someone saying, “Who do you think you are? Do you think your such a much?” and me having to slink off, never to be heard from again. But I’ve begun to realize that instead, I’ve just slunk off without anyone having to say anything to discourage me.
I have a presentation coming up where I have to talk about resistance and part of that involves me talking about my own resistance. Do I really have the guts to stand up in front of the class and talk about accepting myself? I don’t know. I will likely chicken out.
But I’ll tell you one thing…I’m going to be rereading this post and trying as hard as I can to convince myself not to.
Because I fear speaking up, I fear someone saying, “Who do you think you are? Do you think your such a much?” and me having to slink off, never to be heard from again. But I’ve begun to realize that instead, I’ve just slunk off without anyone having to say anything to discourage me.
Yes, exactly.
Also, I feel like everyone who does this kind of work and who is afraid to go public with it needs to get together psychically and metaphysically hold hands somehow. Because it’s so damn scary sometimes. Please imagine that when you finally take the risk of standing up and talking openly about accepting yourself. Your nervousness and my nervousness can get together and hold hands in the corner while we go about getting stuff done.
As always, I love you! And you made me think of this quote:
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us, it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” -Marianne Williamson
Sorry if the religious implications of the quote offend anyone. I just love the idea that we are all not only worthy, but totally fabulous! Unfortunately, I have to constantly remind myself that this is true.
Great post, and I share your ambivalence about full disclosure.
I’ve always been pro-HAES at work, sometimes outspokenly so, but I’ve never talked about my FA activism. It’s incredibly brave to even think about doing so – especially in a healthcare setting. I’ve thought about the impression it would make, too. “She’s just rationalizing,” “she’s in denial,” “she must have some kind of emotional problem,” and on and on. Because, most people probably think that FA – and anyone who would champion it – is nuts.
But, even with how I play things, if I read minds, I’d expect to hear “she works out regularly. There must be something horribly wrong with her eating habits for her to be so big. She probably goes home and binges on candy bars.”
Because with a lot of people, you really can’t win if you’re fat. We might as well try to change society, because trying to change ourselves does not work the way it’s supposed to, and we can’t live with these bullshit negative judgments forever. They’re already judging us based on our size. We might as well meet them head-on.
Oh- and I should also mention that I’ve been a lot less sensitive about those kind of assumptions in recent years, as I’ve learned more about binge eating and other issues. Sorry about raising the good fatty – bad fatty dichotomy. I should know better.
It’s just the awareness that so many others see eating as a moral issue and would automatically label anyone fat as a binge eater, and then pass judgement based on that.
“I’ve been in the habit, for a long time, of singing in empty rooms, of reading my poems to no one in particular, of deliberately flying under the radar. It’s a comfortable place for me, for though I’ve always had a streak of the performer in me, I’ve also always abhorred a crowd, hated to have eyeballs on me unless protected by full costume and greasepaint.”
I relate very much to this, as I’m the same way. I commend you on the courage that it takes to speak out for what you believe in when you are quaking inside. It’s like that having that nightmare where you have to go to school naked, and then realizing that you’re not dreaming! (At least, that’s what it feels like to me sometimes.)
But seriously, keep fighting the good fight, and know that you are making a difference.
yours is a voice that needs to be heard! Thank you!
There is a quote from a woman named Robin at for the little ones inside that says:
“Go only as fast as the slowest part of you feels safe.”
I want to have lots of sage and wonderful things to say beyond this, but the words are lacking. For selfish reasons, I am so extremely grateful that you are emerging and saying “hey folks – I have something to say”. The selfish reason being I am so thankful to get to work with you on a personal basis.
As a commenter above said “I will loan you a hammer.” What a wonderful idea. It’s definitely a community worth building and there are people here willing to help you when you want/need it.
You’re amazing, and you’ve changed so many of my viewpoints. Thank you!
You have an ever embiggening fanbase and you know this. I know what you mean about coming out of “hiding”, and I hope you continue to have more of an awesome support group to help keep your bearings when you’re in hostile waters. How’s THAT for a mixed metaphor!
Thanks for all you do, and for your work and your blog!
What you are doing is important. It’s important to me. It’s important to a lot of your other readers, those who read your articles in various other places, your patients, and people who encounter what you do in any form.
Be proud and know that you ARE making a difference.
You rock, lady! One of my favorite poems is the Desiderata, with my favorite part as follows:
” You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.”
And I am so glad you are here.
How wonderful that you’re coming out even further! You *ROCK*!!!
I enjoyed reading your description of feeling surprise that everyone you come out to also carries weight-based fears and worries that they hid. The more you come out, the more liveable space you create for yourself and for other people. In my experience, opposition only comes from people who seek to protect some unearned benefit they get from fat oppression. (They lost 10 pounds and now feel superior; they make money or a career because of it; they work for a company that makes money from it.) Otherwise, every single person will benefit from your coming out.
When I first started publishing a ‘zine, I never planned to speak. I didn’t know there was a whole fat pride community where I might have to talk with other people. I didn’t anticipate the teen suicides that propelled me to give my first, breathless, confessional, unprofessional weight diversity talks in the very place where I learned fat oppression: high school. (I try to keep my talks confessional and unprofessional; I just have it figured out now how to breathe and talk and laugh at the same time.) I used my name because I didn’t imagine anyone knew me!
From what I’ve found, the more out I am, the more whole I am…and the more fun I have.
Enjoy!!!
Oh, man, THIS!
I, too, am happy to perform when safely behind the costume and makeup but terrified beyond belief when it’s just little me. For all that, I’m finally learning to sing out loud and speak my mind in a roomful of people who might not care for my singing or my words. It’s a process, just as much as accepting our beautiful, bountiful bodies.
It’s also good to have such a delightful companion for that road to living out loud.
Hi Michelle, I’m new to your blog/web site. I hope you continue with it. I became a practicing diabetic just this past year IE/ taking charge of my metabolism. I lost 55 lbs, put back about 10 in muscle (so “they say”)- I haven’t been on a diet for the last two months but the changes in lifestyle (kettlebells/low carb Clean/primal eating) has made it tough determine that fact. BUT… my problem lies in the fact that for years, as a fat man, I preached fat acceptance and battled fat intolerance 24/7. I never hid the fact that I adore BBWs/SSBBWs. Now as an ex-fat man, my fat community sees me in wolf clothing. FAT will always be a three letter word, not a four letter word as many try to make it. I still fight fat intolerance but ‘see’ the danger of killing one’s metabolism. Hope you can seperate the two and keep posting a wonderful journal.
Dieting is how you kill your metabolism (slows it down so that you tend to gain weight). Eating normally and being physically active promotes a healthy metabolism. At least, that’s how it works in my experience.
There is a difference between “dieting’ and eating a better “diet” of food. As a diabetic- our metabolism is challanged. I, from my experience have found Less is More. Lower carbs, nay to grains works as Less and gives me, More
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metabolism
Not that Wikipedia is the end all, be all authority, but it gives a nice synopsis.
Metabolism is more than some little thing that sits in your body decrying whether you gain or lose weight. It doesn’t have some obscure dial on it that is ratcheted up or down based on the “good” and “bad” food you eat.
Like every bodily system it can be effected by ill health. There is definitely a lot of weight loss meme surrounding metabolism.
Holy crap. I can’t say much except that I identify with this post in spirit, although not in detail. I know the fear and also the challenge and the drive, and want to say good for you for confronting that.
However, separate from my identification with that inner dialogue, I’ve always been enriched by what you’ve got to say. So I’ll be happy to continue to listen.
Your voice is an incredibly important one.
I can’t speak for others, but I’m new to FA and for me, hearing a medical professional (and a nutritionist no less!) echoing what I’ve always felt (though never really had the courage to believe) has helped enormously. When my midwife tells me not to gain any weight during my twin pregnancy, or my nurse MIL eyes me as a potential diabetic… it helps to have a blog like this that I can read to remind myself that they are *wrong*.
So please, keep your chin up!
Hi!!! I am so glad you are back.
You have too many great ideas not to be heard.
I do get the feeling of wandering alone in the wilderness when I try to explain HAES and SA to my friends. I gave only mentioned it, and then with great caution, to people I know well who are overweight. There seems to be no point in arguing with my thin friends about a hypothetical for them. OTOH – I do stop them when the get into fat talk and diet talk. That kind of talk is just toxic.
The responses of my friends to HAES and SA have been mostly negative. My hope is that if they see it is working for me they will reconsider. I feel terrible for one friend who has been banded. I would like to tell her but she is still struggling. She was banded a few years ago but hasn’t lost any weight. Of course besides not loosing weight, she has many of the negative side effects and she will likely have them for life. I want to tell her it is not her fault and that there is a better way, I just don’t want to hurt her.
Anyway, so glad you are back. I look forward to hearing about the “how” of eating.
I love that you have taken this step, because there are a lot of people (including me) who need to hear what you have to say. It is still really hard sometimes to seperate health at every size from diet, and while going through that, I really appreciate having this resource to become more aware of my motivations. It is a slippery slope between “health” and “weight loss.” I appreciate your courage in sharing your knowledge.
Maybe you could write a post on how you see your role as a nutritionist who doesn’t think nutrition is important (excepting clear deficiency diseases). I believe this is your stance. Is it to promote HAES and Ellen Satyr’s principles as a nutritionist? To do research to debunk what you think is bunk? As a former nutritionist who sees great power in improving health through food (though not in a strict manner or for weight control, thus the common ground!) I am curious about this.
I suppose I actually think there’s more to nutrition than just “what” we eat, though what we eat can make a difference in health (just not as big a difference as we’re often led to believe, I think.) So many of us are not even reliable in feeding ourselves that it’s a bit like putting the cart before the horse to talk about eating for optimal nutrition — especially considering most of us who are conversing here on this blog likely live in relative affluence, and have a safe and stable food supply compared to many of the world’s people. Putting all of our effort into squeezing out every last drop of nutritiousness from our already pretty decent food supply seems like a strange priority to have. I think that energy would be better put toward dealing with our collective neuroses around food. And, you know, not hating people for the way they look. And maybe preventing eating disorders (some of which have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness — 15 to 20%, depending on who you ask.)
Ellyn Satter is, without a doubt, my inspiration and mentor, and not a satyr at all — thanks for the Freudian slip. But nutrition IS important to me, or I never would have entered this field in the first place. My purpose in doing nutrition is because I realize how much contradictory, and utterly ridiculous, information is out there that has absolutely no basis in evidence, and that only serves to shame and confuse people. And how difficult it is in such a climate for people to figure out how to *just eat* without having a nervous breakdown, or thinking they need to have a fucking biology degree, or call in professional help, in order to do a decent job at it.
Which is a pretty ridiculous state of affairs, when you think about it. Most of us pretty much knew how to eat when we were born, for fuck’s sake. So what went wrong?
Does that make sense?
Actually, you know, if you have a background in nutrition, you’d probably get a lot out of looking at Satter’s Hierarchy of Food Needs, which is based on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, only translated into nutrition and eating stages: https://ellynsatter.com/attachment/links/3681/pdf?download=1
That probably explains a lot about why I feel the way I feel about nutrition, and conversations about the “what” vs. the “how.”
My purpose in doing nutrition is because I realize how much contradictory, and utterly ridiculous, information is out there that has absolutely no basis in evidence, and that only serves to shame and confuse people. And how difficult it is in such a climate for people to figure out how to *just eat* without having a nervous breakdown, or thinking they need to have a fucking biology degree, or call in professional help, in order to do a decent job at it.
Hey, would you mind if I used that quote as an email sig? And if it’s okay, would you prefer I credit it to “The Fat Nutritionist” or another name?
Haha, wow, this is the first time I’ve ever gotten that particular request!
Sure you can use it, and just call me The Fat Nutritionist.
Hi Michelle,
I just replied to your email and thought I’d check out your website after noticing your email address–and I’m so glad I did!
I have to say, I mostly skim over the many blogs I read, but I read your entry with great interest. Thanks for the courage it took to share yourself with us; it’s really inspiring and a beautiful testament to your process. My take-away from it is a renewed interest in questioning where I am with own process and how I might challenge myself a bit. Thank you for that :)
Warmly,
Camerin
Thank you for this! I like the idea of our collective nervousnesses getting together in a corner and being able to all huddle together for support while we’re freed up to get out there and *say* what we can often hold ourselves back from saying.
Congratulations on coming out further – I would say welcome, but I’m still in some of my closets on this issue, too. We’ll keep pushing forward together.
I’ve been in the habit, for a long time, of singing in empty rooms, of reading my poems to no one in particular, of deliberately flying under the radar. It’s a comfortable place for me, for though I’ve always had a streak of the performer in me, I’ve also always abhorred a crowd, hated to have eyeballs on me unless protected by full costume and greasepaint.
Man, I can’t even TELL you how much I relate to that. Seriously. Not so much in FA (I’m still in the “it’s ok for everyone but me” stage), but in general. Can my nervousness hold hands, too?
Ok, one more thing regarding that statement. The funny thing is, as much as I abhor eyes on me when I’m not protected by the greasepaint, I LOVE those eyeballs when I AM protected. I did a lot of acting, not to reveal myself, but to hide. And in a funny way, I accomplished both things, because good acting is all about revealing yourself, but as someone else. Hiding in plain sight, if you will.
I’m happy to perform, to have all eyes on me, but only on MY terms, only what I choose CONSCIOUSLY to present to others. Otherwise, I’d just rather blend into the background (although that’s never been a strength of mine, LOL).
Same exact thing here. I did a fair amount of acting when I was a teenager, and I’ve always been pretty comfortable onstage. It doesn’t freak me out; it gives me a nice thrill. But when it comes to real life, I much prefer hiding and invisibility.
Thank you for your honesty. Without people like you the HAES movement would be going no where fast.
Just adding a little bit to the pile of sweetness. :) I think what you have to say is important and that you say it wisely (is that even a word?). Within the fat acceptance movement, your voice is one of those I appreciate most.
(fyi, I doubt even my “right” to give you a vote of confidence, because who am I, anyway, you don’t even know me, et cetera. Let’s just say that I too prefer to fly under the radar and don’t give myself enough credit. ;))
Aww, thank you.
Who are you, anyway? You’re a reader and a human being, which are the most important sources for criticism or votes of confidence!