*Content Warnings: Suicide, eating disorders, body image issues and very blunt and frequent use of the word fat
Ok…so this is a subject that is a big deal to me. Like, a really big deal. I’ve actually written this blog post in my head every day in the shower for the last six months, I do not exaggerate. I just really, really want to say it right. You know what? I’ll probably still fuck it up anyway.
I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned on here yet that I’m a personal trainer. I have been for 10 years, actually, and I’m triple certified from the American Council on Exercise. I am a personal trainer, group trainer and behavior modification coach with lots of continuing education credits in things like cancer and exercise, elderly balance exercise programs, HIIT training, vegetarian nutrition, all kinds of shit. I’ve trained some really specialized, high risk clientele too. One of my clients has extremely bad low vision to the point where I sat right next to her once and she had no idea who I was. She also has diabetes, balance issues and foot issues where we literally cannot do workouts on her feet or they could lead to necrosis and possible future amputation. I’ve also dealt with clients with severe osteoporosis, learning and social impairments and of course, all kinds of injuries. You’re never done learning, but I’ve seen a lot and dealt with a lot.
Why am I telling you this? Because I want you to understand, throughout this post, that I’m literally and professionally qualified to broach this subject. And I have SO many feelings on it.
Fatphobia.
We have us a blog post, folks.
I don’t know why I wanted to be a personal trainer. I’ve always hated exercise with a passion, still do. I was never athletic, graceful, coordinated, any of it. I just believed in being healthy. Like, majorly. I also wanted a career with a lot of flexibility because back in those days, I always thought I’d have a family. That ended up not happening, but it was a big reason I got into the industry.
I studied my butt off for my certification exam, and to my utter relief I passed. That mofo is not easy, I’ll have you know. But I didn’t want to start messing with people’s health without knowing what I was actually doing. So I interned at a really well respected personal training studio, shadowing the trainers for six months and taking all manner of notes, complete with the most awkward stick figure drawings you’ve ever seen.
I won’t get in too deep into the history of everything but I’ll skim through it. I didn’t have the experience to actually get hired anywhere (the joys of starting out in a new field), so I decided to give myself experience by starting my own microscopic company which I still run to this day. At the time I also worked full time at an OB/GYN as a receptionist and one of the doctors there was kind enough to be my first client! We used to work out on lunch breaks for fun and then once a week she’d come to my house and train. My twin also got drug into it, which was incredibly handy when she got pregnant. I got to learn hands on what is and isn’t safe for pregnancy and exercise, all under the helpful supervision of a literal OB/GYN. Pretty cool, right?
At the time, I was a workout fiend. I used to workout 1-2 hours almost every day. I was strong as hell. I also ate soooo clean. We’re talking quinoa, kale, coconut water, all the hippy dippy shit. And I was incredibly disciplined. At work they’d have free lunches from drug reps all the time. Magnificent, cheesy, chocolaty, amazing temptations that current me would die for. Past me was solid as a rock. Didn’t touch the stuff. I was a bit of a snot about it too, unfortunately. I have NEVER been fatphobic, I will have you know. But I’ve always been super passionate about being as healthy as you can be and taking care of your body to the best of your ability. To me, that meant not eating shit and trying to help others be healthy too, even though they all wanted to bitch slap my stupid face. I really don’t blame them.
Three things happened that eventually led to my gaining weight.
First? Food network. I kid you not. Watching shows like Chopped and Iron Chef made me want to experience food in a way I’d never had the opportunity to. And once you’ve delved into gourmet cooking, it can take over. I’m not saying you can’t enjoy great food without being unhealthy, not at all. But I did become less strict, for sure. I started using real butter instead of smart balance. Using real, fancy cheese instead of daiya (vegan cheese in case you’re wondering). Our food game went up. S (my husband) and I both started doing a ton more with our cooking. I learned to make pasta from scratch that was so good that my father in law called me the next day simply to say again how awesome it was. I learned to make Pad Thai, Drunken noodles, Korean short ribs, enchiladas, all kinds of incredible stuff. So yeah, once you start making really great food like that, it’s hard to go back to a boring kale salad.
Second thing that led to my weight gain? Age. When I was 27, I was 110 pounds. I had a four pack (not a six because my waist is too short!), I had an ass that wouldn’t quit and I could do 32 pushups from my feet all the way to the floor without stopping. I was in the peak of my existence. And then…28 happened. I know part of it was from the fancy food. But guess what? Metabolism is a bitch. Every year since (and I’m 38 now), I’ve had a harder and harder time losing weight. It’s just part of the aging process. Yes, you can combat that, but it’s really, really hard.
Third thing that led to my weight gain? Depression, anxiety and stress. I’ve always had issues with these, but as I got older, more shit started happening. That’s kind of life. My uncle died. I’ve mentioned him before. Workouts came to a screeching halt. Comfort eating became my coping mechanism and it’s honestly never stopped. When I feel like shit inside, the only thing I seem to know how to do is eat and lay around like a lump. And guess what? My depression and anxiety have gotten really bad through the years. So guess what that’s done to my eating habits? It’s not a healthy way to cope, I know that. I’m highly aware that some would even classify it as an eating disorder. They’re probably not wrong. It’s just something I struggle with to this day.
This summer we just finished? I can honestly say it was the most stressful of my life. Selling our house, almost moving into another only to have it fall out 2 weeks before closing date, was pure bullshit. The whole time I was single handedly dealing with everything because poor S has a hellish job and couldn’t help. He’s even worse off than me! Every day seemed like some new way of getting screwed. Some demand from the realtors, some bad news. On top of that, there were other, more personal things going on at the same time. Honestly, it got really dark for me. I contemplated suicide. A lot. I even had a plan and everything and there were days I got closer than I’d ever gotten to actually going through with it. The only thing that stopped me was my cat. The idea that she’d have no one to take care of her if I left. I didn’t care about my family or loved ones. I figured they’d just get over it and move on. I’m not that great anyway. But my cat would never understand, and she’s so high maintenance that it would be hard for someone else to take her in. I’m sure it sounds stupid, but that’s the reason I stayed. During this awful time, the only thing besides her that kept me around? Food. I was constantly getting that dopamine rush from eating junk. I joked that, “I figured I could either get Trader Joe’s mini pizzas, or I could go to the garage, sit in the car, turn it on and wait to die.” I thought that was really funny, for some reason, but the thing is-I wasn’t joking.
My dad has depression issues of his own. During that same time frame he was going through some lows and told me about how he was getting fast food lately. To my surprise he said, “I figured getting burgers and milkshakes is probably better than getting a gun and shooting myself in the head.” He also wasn’t joking.
Isn’t that fucked up?
A lot of people will take away different things from this. Some will say it’s a really unhealthy coping mechanism and that it leads to binge eating, disorders, etc. They’re probably right. But for me? For us? It was the only lifeline I had right then. If you think I had it in me to meditate, do yoga, eat organic fruits and veggies and try to center myself? You’re a fucking idiot. I had energy for hot pockets and crying myself to sleep. I know it’s not healthy. I’m a personal trainer, remember? I know it’s disordered, I know it’s harmful. I don’t fucking care. I didn’t kill myself. That’s so much more important. I didn’t have time or money or the desire to go see a fucking shrink. I should have, of course I should have. I’m a big advocate for getting help when you need it. But for me, it wasn’t going to happen. And it didn’t. But I had to get through some of the hardest parts of my life somehow and if that meant eating takeout and chips and sugar to literally NOT die? I’m gonna give myself a pass for that. I’m gonna give you a pass for that too. No one knows what you’re going through but you. There will be days you just need to survive. Do what you have to do to make it to another one.
So, what does all this rather unpleasant business have to do with Fatphobia?
I consider myself a liaison. A bridge between being fat and being in the health industry. And I have so much shit to put right for people. So buckle up. This post has only just begun.
First off-why shouldn’t a fat person be in the health industry? They absolutely should! And yes, at this point in my life, I do qualify as fat. Are there heavier people than me? Sure. So what? I’ve gained a lot of weight, especially for how short I am. My BMI (an antiquated and erroneous measurement of health, btw) puts me as obese. Obese! So don’t try to tell me I’m not fat, I know I am. That’s not up for debate. But, I digress. There is no reason a large person shouldn’t be a personal trainer. I’ve beaten myself up through the years about it, embarrassed to admit that’s my profession when I look like this. To this day I find myself mumbling, “I know I don’t look like one, but…I’m a personal trainer.” I really need to stop doing that to myself. There’s no goddamn reason I shouldn’t be one. I know my stuff. I really do. And throughout my health ups and downs, I’ve still exercised really consistently, for the most part. Even now, I get 5 days a week in. Guess what? I’ve never once injured myself while working out, because my form is the shit.
I really want people to get rid of the idea that fat people can’t be healthy or fit. They absolutely can. Metabolism, age, stress, body type, cortisol levels, all are huge factors in what a person actually looks like and how they carry their weight. I learned immediately from my first days interning at that personal training studio, that the way a person looks has absolutely nothing to do with their health. One of the things I had to do was doubles training with the clients during my internship. There was a woman there, she was at least 350 pounds if not more. She was huge, tall, sturdy, with thick legs and a big stomach. She was paired up with me, and we were going to be doing exercises where we physically resisted each other as part of the challenge. She looked down at me (I’m short, remember?) and a big, wicked grin spread across her face.
“You’re so tiny,” she grinned. “I’m going to destroy you.” And people, she absolutely did! Any foolish misconceptions I’d had about a woman her size immediately went out the window. She put me through my paces and kicked my ass. I saw her at that gym nearly every morning I went in there. She was vigorous and powerful and put her whole energy into her workouts. I will never forget her as long as I live. Similarly, there was another client there, a woman in her 60s. she was probably about 60 pounds overweight, she looked like someone’s mom or grandma. But that lady could plank well over two minutes and kick your ass. I was barely able to do a minute, myself, and that was when I was in killer shape too.
Never judge someone’s health by what they look like.
And by the way? There’s plenty of skinny people who live off of hot pockets and Trader Joe’s pizzas too. They just happen to have metabolisms like hummingbirds, that doesn’t mean they’re actually healthy.
What else do I want you to know about us fat people? Well, as for ME, I want to say that your jokes are getting old. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been eating dessert and some wise-ass says, “Wow, looks like diabetes!” For fuck’s sake just shut up. Let me enjoy my damn cake. You’re not funny. The previous thirteen thousand people before you were not funny, and likening my eating of a dessert to a truly horrible disease? Also not funny. Besides that, I do have the right to enjoy myself. Whether I’m treating myself after a long week of healthy eating and working out? Or I’m in a binge phase because my life is a steaming pile of shit-don’t call some snarky judgement on what I put in my body. It’s MY body. And I don’t believe in a world where someone can’t take a second out of their stressful, mind numbing day to just do something nice for themselves. Why would you dump on that? I will never live a life without dessert. End of story.
Another thing I want people to know on behalf of fat people? There’s nothing wrong with the before picture. My sister in law visited last year for Christmas. She’d clearly lost some weight and she and her husband came rushing over to me to show me how fat she was before and to gush about how much weight she’d lost, blah blah blah, as though I had some kind of personal stake in all this. They probably thought because I was a personal trainer, I’d be into it? But here’s the thing, I weighed waaaaaay more than she did in her before photo. What did they expect me to say? “Oh wow, look how fat and ugly you were before! This is amazing, well done you sexy beast, you!” Psssh, hell no! Especially since I was so much bigger than she ever was. Instead I said, “Wow, that’s amazing. But I think you looked beautiful before too.” They looked so disappointed, just staring at me like I’d taken all the wind out of their sails. Good. You don’t bash someone’s before picture. Most of us still are the before picture! And there’s nothing wrong with that. People look beautiful in all sizes.
I’ve borne the brunt of some asshole remarks about my weight before. I had a client tell me if I ever got fat she’d be disappointed in me. So…yeah. That’s fun. I think about that every day. Cruelty stays with us, something most of us have experienced. I’m not going to pretend I don’t beat myself up about my weight. I definitely do. We live in a society that focuses on appearance SOOOO much, and when that ideal of beauty is so specific? A lot of us aren’t going to meet it. Good. There are so many ways to be beautiful, no one has the right to dictate to you what that should be. Still, it’s ok to struggle with self-acceptance. If I had a button to push to magically make self-doubts and insecurities go away, I’d have pushed it a long time ago. But I keep trying. We all should. So fight to love yourself. Fight to accept yourself. No matter what your size, big or small. Fat or thin. People who feel attractive and worthwhile when they don’t meet society’s elite standards of beauty are powerful as hell. They need no outside praise or worship, judgements mean nothing. No human or force or hate can tear down the affirmations we give ourselves. See how I bolded that shit? Remember it.
Now, I’ve established that Fatphobia is unacceptable, yes? I sure hope I did! There’s no reason to treat someone like shit because of the way they look. No reason to not see beauty, value, power and strength, and to reassess our society driven standards of health and attractiveness. I hope I’ve stressed that you shouldn’t judge someone’s health based on what they look like. That’s important that I get that across. Thin people can be unhealthy, fat people can kick your ass. It all depends on the person. Still, even if I were to roll around in chocolate sauce and sprinkles every day, it wouldn’t give you the right to treat me like shit. Abusing someone because of how they look means you’re actively making the world a worse place. Fuck you.
Now, all that said? Here’s where my personal trainer side kicks in.
Health is important. It’s kind of everything, actually. And what do I mean by health? I don’t mean six packs and big muscles and tiny little waists. Nope. Not at all. Health is going to look, feel, and BE different for everyone. But it’s still so important we strive for it. Somewhere, deep inside my hot pocket binging body, is that health freak girl who wanted to get into the industry to help people. My idea of how to do that is very different now, though.
Here’s the thing. You’re going to have loads of times where something shitty happens. Maybe you break your ankle. Maybe you go through crippling depression and end up on a binge eating kick like I did. Maybe you have a fuckton of kids and it’s all you can manage to keep the little beings alive and happy til they hit high school. There will always be things that get in your way. I’m not going to tell you to eat perfectly, to exercise intensely, through all that shit. It’s not sustainable for most of us. What I WILL tell you, is to do WHAT you can and never stop trying.
For some of us, that means eating clean and working out like a maniac, like I did through my twenties. For my past self, that was attainable. For my present self, not quite there yet. Or maybe ever.
Some of us may have health look very different. My client I told you about? The one with diabetes and feet issues? We do chair and floor workouts. We modify a ton of moves. Her planks are from her knees. Her cardio is seated. Lunges and squats? Non-existent for her and they always will be. Who cares? She’s doing what she can and she never gives up. Even when we have to break for a month or two because a health issue comes up. She always comes back and we start over again from scratch. Incredible.
No matter what your body looks like, what problems you have, try to put your own health first. I’ve seen too many lives ruined from health issues, many of them preventable. My uncle and his years of smoking, for instance. So do this for yourself, your own well-being and your own future. The clients I’ve had through the years that don’t drop out like most of them do? All have had one thing in common. They workout for their health. Not to feel thin in a swimsuit.
I swear, I’m really going to wind this down soon, but I want to touch just a smidge more on what I mean by being healthy. There are 3 facets to your health. Exercise, what you eat, and your stress levels. They are each huge players, and should be treated with respect. There will be days, maybe months, maybe a lifetime, where you find you cannot commit as much to one as you’d like. It’s very ableist to assume that everyone can exercise. In my experience, MOST people can do SOME form of exercise-under the right guidance, but I’m not going to pretend there aren’t many exceptions. If you’re able to physically involve your body in some form of movement, I highly recommend it. During my time of crisis, I went on walks. That was what I could commit to my health at that time and that’s what I did. Maybe for you that’s dancing, or strength training, or swimming, or doing punches from a chair. It all counts, it all helps. Even just focusing on your posture counts, in my book. You’d be surprised how much you can screw yourself up just with bad posture. You could do wrist stretches, ankle stretches, sit a little straighter. Find what you can commit to and tweak it to what YOU can do. Just be sure you’re physically up to it and get approval from your healthcare provider if you have issues.
Eating healthy? That’s going to look different for everyone too. Don’t fall for fad diets. They don’t work and can be dangerous. Talk to a nutritionist if you want to get really into it. Otherwise, there’s no need to overcomplicate things. More produce and homemade foods, less processed stuff, blah blah blah. That said, you may end up like I did and be in a position where that’s just not feasible for you at the moment. Healthy food is expensive and not always available. You might be in a place where you struggle with eating healthy, for a lot of reasons-both physical and emotional. It’s worth continuing that pursuit, do the best you can, because you really are what you eat, but don’t obsess and do allow yourself a bit of happiness there too. When I have my shit together, I eat healthy 80 percent of the time and whatever I want 20 percent of the time. For me that means a nightly dessert and a cheat meal on Fridays. If someone expected me to give that up, they’d find themselves in a very bad way…
Stress. You can have perfection in the other two areas of health and still have stress derail you. It’s so much more important than people give it credit for. Your mental health is everything. Everything! When it’s in jeopardy your very life can be in danger, both from self-harm and from what it physically does to your body. So please, find some way to take this seriously. Find time to do things you love. Meditate if that sounds appealing. Listen to great music or podcasts. Write. Draw. Sing. Color those awesome adult coloring books while you watch tv. That actually helped my dad through some tough times, believe it or not. It’s not stupid. It’s not silly. It’s part of your health regime.
There will be times when you can commit less to one of these areas of health, for whatever reason. When that happens? Try to up your game with the other areas to make up for it. No, don’t exercise yourself into injury or overtraining, that’s not what I mean. But maybe you can do more stretching, more walking, more cardio (safely please!). Can’t do as much physically? Maybe you can prepare healthier foods. Try to eat more balanced, more mindfully. End up in a place where those aren’t happening for you? Calm your mind, listen to your mental and emotional needs, try to put your well-being higher up on your to do list. It’s a valid and major component of your physical health.
Inevitably, you’re going to fail at one or all of these. It’s normal, it’s expected. It’s OK! Regroup, refocus and start back in at whatever level you can commit to. Maybe you’ll be kicking ass in your group exercise classes or maybe you’ll sit outside and paint the morning songbirds in your yard. It’s going to look different for everyone and it’s going to change, all the time. But you’re worth this effort. You’re worth investing your energy into, whatever form that takes. You’re worth loving and admiring and appreciating, even if you find that you have to give yourself that kind of support because society is too stupid to. You’re not alone. Your awesomeness level does not change because you’re fat or thin or healthy or unhealthy. It doesn’t! You’re awesome through all of it. Dammit, I am too. It’s time I start telling myself that. Yeah, I may be technically obese now, but I’m still fun. I’m still capable. I’m still kind. And guess what the best part is? My boobies have never looked more fantastic.
Mildly Miffed 