How I Got People To Stop Commenting On My Weight

I was nine years old the first time someone called me fat. 

At the time, I was not close to my father. One day in the backyard, he pulled me in and started to whisper something in my ear. I thought, He’s finally seeing me. He wants to connect with me. What he said was, "You're getting fat."

I hadn’t been paying attention to my body. I didn’t know what fat was. I remember looking in the mirror and thinking, "Oh, okay. So I am fat." All of a sudden, what I saw in the reflection changed.

Then, when I was 11 or 12, I went through a difficult period in my family life—my siblings had moved out, and I was alone with my parents. There was domestic violence happening. Over the course of one summer, I gained 20 or 30 pounds. One day, a relative was visiting. I was spending most of my time in my room alone, and I was very depressed. I came down the stairs, and she said, "What happened to you? I can't believe how much weight you've gained." I turned around and walked right back up to my room. I felt so defeated. She knew what had been going on in my house, and her only concern was that I had gained weight. That comment really stuck with me.

I was about 14 years old the first time I went on a diet. I kept it simple; I tried not to eat at all. In my later teens, I signed up with a diet centre in the mall. They gave me a meal plan to follow and used electrodes on my stomach, which they said would give me a six-pack. I knew deep down that it wasn’t going to work; still, I ended up spending $2,000 for my own machine to use at home. 

I ended up dieting my way into obesity, and in my 20s I was classified as severely obese. I wish I could say eating and my weight were my only problems. But I was a food addict, and as with most addictions, it devastated all areas of my life. My marriage was falling apart, I was in a codependent relationship with my mom—who was also living with obesity and bipolar disorder—my mental health was in the gutter and I was on extended sick leave from work. It wasn’t until I treated my weight and my eating as an addiction that I was able to lose 100 pounds over the course of a year and a half. (I initially found healing in the rooms of Overeaters Anonymous—a 12-step program that worked for me, but one I recognize doesn’t work for everyone. That’s why I became a certified food addiction counsellor, and created my own program that’s grounded in self-love and self-acceptance.)

Losing weight also led to comments on my body. When I ran into people I hadn’t seen in a while, their first question was always, "How much weight did you lose?" I was embarrassed to tell them—a part of me believed I had hid my weight well.

Obesity is a chronic, relapsing disease. My relapses are often tied to stressful events. Once, when a loved one received a distressing medical diagnosis, I gained 20 pounds. Around that time I went to a party with a relative. On the drive home, she told me that I better get a handle on my weight gain. By then, I had learned that I needed to honour myself in these types of situations. I was very clear with her. I said, “I have a food addiction, and I have disordered eating. And when you say that, it's not helpful. It's actually really hurtful.”  

That comment wasn’t planned, so my tone was probably a little sharp. Now I tell my clients to practice what they're going to say many times, especially in terms of tone and delivery. I prefer to speak in a peaceful way. Instead of saying, “You have no idea what that does to me,” I'd rather say something like, “You probably don't understand that when someone has an eating disorder and you comment on their weight, it has a detrimental effect on them.” And if that embarrasses the other person or makes them feel awkward, I know that their reaction doesn’t belong to me. I get to honour myself, and they get to have their feelings.

When it comes to curtailing comments about weight, I’m also a fan of the broken record technique. Even if you’re caught off guard, you don’t have to worry about formulating a perfect sentence. Just keep your answer short—and don’t change it, otherwise you’re opening the door to more comments.

 It goes like this:
 
“So oh my gosh, Sandra, you look amazing. Did you lose 20 pounds?”

“I'm not talking about my weight.” 

“Oh, come on. I'm saying you look good. Don't you care?”

“I'm not talking about my weight.”

“Oh my goodness, you're so sensitive. I can't talk about anything.” 

“I am not talking about my weight. “

It usually takes three times to get the other person to stop. If you're up to five, you might be dealing with a really toxic person. But I’ve learned over the years that if I don't honour myself, I hurt myself.