Part 2 of 2 — thoughts on the podcast “Tell Me I’m Fat” — This American Life
“Tell Me I’m Fat” – This American Life
Intro: folks, I am off on a trip with a couple of great traveling companions, taking a cruise, so I’ve written two blog entries to carry us over until after my return. The first appeared last week (see: “A Different World”).
Part 2: Physical Exorcism
In part 1 of this blog, I spoke about separating my view of my own physical self so that I am objective about my health goals. In the podcast mentioned above, host Ira Glass spoke with Elna Baker, a woman who has beat the odds and successfully lost — and maintained — 110 pounds.
Most of us who have struggled with weight would immediately be impressed with her efforts, but as she told her story, it appeared to me that she struggles with the mental aspects of her loss, admitting that she felt certain her job and her successes were because she lost the weight.
It felt like that famous Eddie Murphy sketch on Saturday Night Live, where he goes undercover in whiteface and gets treated way better. He rides the city bus. And when the last black rider gets off, music starts. A cocktail waitress in a sequined dress hands out martinis. That’s what I felt like– like this whole other world for thin people had existed alongside mine, a world they’ve been keeping a secret from me.
Elna Baker, on her reaction after weight loss
I can’t really argue with that; things are different after massive weight loss, even in interactions with people who don’t know I have lost over half of me. I find people are much friendlier than they once were. I don’t necessarily think weight loss has opened up job opportunities for me, or relationships, but I believe perceptions of me are different than they once were.
In a population that’s growing steadily heavier, we still persist with stamping those who are overweight with any number of perceptions, often stated as facts rather than opinions. I’m only concerned for your health. You’d be so much prettier if you lost weight. Think of your family. Fat is just so gross.
I’ve heard those comments — and many
Even the medical community is guilty; in the article “Everything You Know About Obesity Is Wrong” the author interviews a number of obese individuals that have gone to doctors for medical advice, only to be told they’re fat and to lose weight rather than having their issues addressed.
Ms. Baker spoke about getting rid of photos from when she was fat, including in family photo albums. She told her new husband that she thought he probably wouldn’t have dated her as a fat person. She broke off a previous relationship because the man hadn’t realized he had met her before she lost weight, and she felt as if he was with her because of the weight loss.
As new Elna, I threw out all my pictures of old Elna and all the pictures in my parents’ photo albums too, because I didn’t want people to see them. And when I looked at those photos, they made me feel bad, because in the pictures, I looked happy. And I’d look at them and think, you’re so stupid to think that you’re happy. That’s crazy, of course. And now I don’t have any pictures of myself from ages 12 to 22.
Elna Baker, on removing her fat self from existence.
This made me sad to hear. I have no doubts that all of it is true; what bothers me is her need to try to erase her life before she lost weight. I did that, too, when I lost 140 pounds. I tried to push that life away from me rather than learning the lessons I so very much needed to learn.
While I have learned to consider my body objectively, I think it’s a mistake to completely break from the person I was before weight loss. I am still her; she’s still here, within me, and I can just as easily repeat the errors of my past and throw away 5 1/2 years of hard work by trying to pretend I was never super morbidly obese.
I have the potential for complete success. I also have the potential for complete failure, and I’m actually a lot more familiar with failure than success. I would be throwing away many years of learning from those failures if I were to push against where I’ve been. I refuse to condemn myself for having failed; without learning, there is no growth.
Ms. Baker confesses that she doesn’t like how she must maintain her weight loss; I get the sense that she feels captured and cornered in her now-smaller body, and that she puts her career, her relationships at risk if she doesn’t keep the weight off. That she identifies more with being at home in her fat body than the one she now inhabits.
When I lost 140 pounds, I fought hard to get where I was. I worked out like a demon. I tortured myself with food choices. If I saw so much as a couple pounds gained, I feared I would throw it all away, and yet, I knew what I was doing wasn’t sustainable. It became a miserable existence, and eventually, my grasp on maintaining my losses slipped away… with some relief, I might add.
Now, 192 pounds down in weight, and weighing around 20 pounds less then my previous lowest weight, I don’t feel the same threats at all. I am comfortable in what I’m doing. I truly feel like I have the right tools to keep the balance. It’s sustainable. I am happy. I am not fighting myself at every turn. The difference, there, is huge.
And the difference is chiefly the mental one of not only acceptance and recognition of where I’ve been before, but a great relief in knowing with certainty that my success is totally within my own ability. I would never have reached this point of laying down the burden of eternally flogging myself over weight, had it not been for the path I’ve chosen.
I don’t see the point in physical exorcism; it’s unnecessary. Finding peace in the journey is much more important for my mental wellbeing than rejecting the parts of me that failed before.