There’s one thing I’m really not looking forward to in the new year, and that’s the “lose your lockdown weight” bullshit that will inevitably percolate into our lives through social media and advertising.
January is generally a hotbed of unhelpful messages about losing Christmas weight anyway, but this year, after months spent in lockdown due to the coronavirus pandemic, the pernicious directives about slimming down and toning up are sure to be even more virulent than usual.
Let me make one thing clear: no one has the right to shame you for gaining weight over the past year. So many of us have absorbed high levels of stress and trauma during the pandemic, and our mental health has been put at risk through loneliness, lack of routine and grief.
Unfortunately, there are people in our lives who might feel that it’s their place to make comments about our weight. Whether they are friends, family members or strangers, their words can cause unnecessary distress.
I find comments about my lockdown weight gain incredibly damaging, as someone who has struggled with eating disorders since I was in my early teens.
Anorexia was so interwoven into the fabric of my life that I never thought I would recover. Years later, I am lucky to be alive and have a body as healthy as the one I currently reside in. I still struggle with disordered eating impulses, and critical or “concerned” remarks about the extra pounds I’m carrying from the stress and inactivity of lockdown throw me straight back into a prison of disordered thoughts and self-hatred.
Gaining weight has forced me to come face to face with my own internalised feelings of shame around my body shape and size. I ended up asking myself questions about whether I was still a worthwhile person even though I could no longer be described as “thin”. I had to address why my sense of self was so bound up with being a particular dress size.
Christmas is a hugely difficult time of year for people with eating disorders, due to increased pressure around food and sharing meals. It’s tough for people who struggle with disordered patterns of eating that don’t meet the criteria of major EDs like anorexia, bulimia or binge eating disorder. It may also be tricky for those whose bodies have changed over the course of a year filled with uncertainty and loss.
Whatever your Christmas plans are during this time of strain and isolation, remember that you don’t deserve to be shamed for any changes your body may have undergone.
“Before you buy into toxic diet culture this coming January, remember that fatphobia is not only rooted in racism, but inextricably linked to ableism and class politics.”
If someone you know has gained weight over the past year, it’s definitely not a good idea to comment on it. Their body is their business, not yours. You’re not doing them any favours by pointing out the change. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that you’re doing it for “their own good” or with their health in mind.
People can be unhealthy at any weight, and I should know. I was diagnosed with osteopenia, the step before incurable osteoporosis, in my spine when I was dangerously underweight. I had no energy, my hair and nails were damaged and I had wasted muscles in my arms. Thinness does not equal health.
Fatphobia, a form of bigotry that equates fatness with ugliness, lack of self-control, immorality and poor health, has deep roots in anti-Black racism and white supremacy. This goes back to when racist pseudoscience was in vogue.
People of colour are still routinely shamed and discriminated against for their weight, in the medical community and in wider society. This ties into how POC have been blamed for their greater vulnerability to Covid-19, when racism and racial inequality are the risk factor for the disease.
So before you buy into toxic diet culture this coming January, remember that fatphobia is not only rooted in racism, but inextricably linked to ableism and class politics.
When people’s routines, all over the world, are thrown out of kilter due to the impact of a global pandemic, it’s likely that many people’s weight will have changed. Don’t comment on someone’s weight, whatever the situation, but particularly don’t shame them in the midst of a pandemic.
And as for me, I might not be as slim as I once was, but I’m still here and still fighting to see myself as more than my size.
Harriet Williamson is a writer, artist and activist, based in London.