Why Do You Need to Explain Your Weight Gain?

Those working on recovery this past year had the fortune of being able to gain weight outside of public scrutiny (#pandemicperks) but are now facing the challenge of suddenly seeing people again in what feels like a completely different body.

One of my clients told me that she wants to wear a sign on her back that says — “leave me alone! I’ve been working on recovery from an eating disorder!”

In truth, I don’t think this is unique to pandemic re-entry. I remember wanting to wear a similar sign on my back for years to explain my weight cycling, as if I needed an excuse or justification. In fact, I was very open about my eating disorder in real time because I didn’t want anyone to think that I had “just gained weight” by accident. Then they might think I was someone without self-control, or that my body looked this way naturally, and I wanted to be clear that my body was in a state of construction, and to please consider it a work in progress instead of a final product. By offloading the weight gain to an eating disorder, I didn’t have to own it.

I know I am not alone with that experience, and I’ve given a lot of thought to why we feel the need to explain weight gain to other people, and what that means. Here is what I’ve come up with:

1. We don’t want people to see us inaccurately. Weight gain is seen as a character flaw in diet culture. It symbolizes “letting oneself go,” “giving up on yourself,” not having discipline, being lazy, and even being pitiable. Because we understand that the rest of the world is operating under that assumption, we want to clarify that our weight gain does not symbolize any of that. (I see this coming up a lot for people in corporate workplaces who don’t want to be seen as a “less-than” contender for promotions and leadership roles.) I don’t think this instinct is a bad one — we know how the world understands weight gain, and we want to be seen for who we really are instead of for the automatic judgments that might be made.

2. We want to protect ourselves from the pain of judgment. If we acknowledge our weight gain before they do, we don’t have to sit in that awkward uncomfortable space where we feel like we are being assessed and, potentially, judged. Saying it out loud feels like taking that power back, because getting things out in the open releases shame around it. Also, if you “own” your weight gain, it’s harder to feel judged about it. This can be a defense mechanism for deflecting the pain of judgment by claiming it before it gets assigned.

3. We don’t want to appear ignorant. I think we have a need to establish self-awareness, which is sometimes based on a history of being hurt by not having self-awareness. For example, some of you might have memories of a family member or classmate making fun of your body before you had any idea your body was “wrong”; Sonya Renee Taylor talks about this moment of splitting in her book The Body is Not an Apology.

One of my personal accounts of this splitting happened when I was about twelve years old, and my mother suggested that I not eat an extra helping of toast with my breakfast. When I asked her why, she fumbled for her words before finally putting her hand on my stomach and saying “THIS.” I will never forget that moment. It was the first time I became aware that my mother had judgment about my body. Prior to that incident, I had assumed unity with my mother, unconditional acceptance in which my body was not objectified in any way. (Of course, I understand that this is nearly impossible now that I am a mother, and a human adult — I “see” my children’s bodies even if I don’t place importance there.)

I go back to this moment in time frequently enough to understand that it meant something — I never want to be caught off guard again, believing that I was something (not judged) that I wasn’t (judged).

Note: my mother may or may not have been judging me. She was doing what all moms did in the 90’s, which was protecting their daughters’ from the world’s judgment the best they knew how — make them aware of their shortcomings so they could fix them. That’s how she had learned, too.

In any case, I think we are determined not to repeat that moment of being caught unaware; the shame of realizing that you are carrying shame you never knew you had. If we remain aware, we can’t be hurt by our ignorance.

4. We still carry fatphobia. For many people, judgment of the self for gaining weight is still living underneath efforts to overcome diet culture and fatphobia. It’s ok — this doesn’t make you a bad person. We live and breathe diet culture, and blindly absorbed it for most of our lives. It’s not going to dissipate entirely, quickly, or permanently. However, it is important to recognize that you might still believe that weight gain is bad, which will compel you to explain it. This is more about releasing judgment of the self.

5. We assume people care. After so many years of putting lots of value into our body size, we assume that others care about our shifting body size as much as we do. In truth, some might — and others might not.

So, what can you do?

The ideal option is to not care what anyone else thinks, and just live your damn life without feeling the need to explain anything. But if you’re not there yet, here are a few points to consider:

• People may notice that you gained weight, but that doesn’t mean they are judging you for it.
• Those who are judging you for it are usually judging themselves — it’s not about you.
• You are allowed to acknowledge your weight gain if it helps you feel better in certain circles or situations.
• You are allowed to not acknowledge your weight gain if it helps you feel better in certain circles or situations.
• People may judge you.
• It’s ok if people judge you — as humans living in the world, we will be judged for the rest of our lives about all sorts of things, and that’s ok.
• Judgment that impacts us on systemic levels (discrimination, stigma, lack of access, harassment, etc) is an issue that requires more advocacy and louder voices, and you can be a part of that.
• You can practice caring less about other’s opinions — even 10% less feels better.
• Sometimes, it will just feel uncomfortable.
• The more you feel the fear and do it anyway, the easier it can become.
• You can continue to dismantle your fatphobia by curating your media intake, learning from people in larger bodies, and/or enlisting the help of a therapist, coach, or other weight inclusive professional. Plus time, practice, and intention.
• You can give yourself permission to have a different value system that the rest of the world may or may not agree with. There is leadership in that.
• Focus on the ways in which others can “see” you through your behaviors, what you say or do not say, and how you show up in your life.

I hope some of this insight helps, and if you have anything to add, please reply and let me know! I’d love to hear your thoughts.