I’m fat.
I think that’s pretty obvious the moment you meet me. (Although it’s not always so easy to tell online. I’m a whiz at Photoshop.) What’s not so obvious is that underneath these copious folds of Fatty Daddy flesh is someone grossly unhappy with and sensitive about his weight. Unfortunately, all this corpulence doesn’t buffer me from the insane ways people have of talking to me about my weight.
I’ll be the first to admit I’m not the easiest person with whom to broach the topic of weight. When you’re obese, you’re defensive. At least I am. And the heavier I get, the more defensive I become. But when The One jiggles my stomach and says he’s rubbing the Buddha belly for good luck, I mean, come on, people! If you prick us, do we not bleed?
So when you talk to someone who’s overweight, especially at this time of year, may I make a few delicate suggestions?
1. Don’t ask, “What are your New Year’s resolutions?” We fatties know that’s a pathetically veiled way of asking, “Are you going to try to lose some weight this year?”
2. Never ask us, “Are you going to eat all that?” It may simply be an innocent question indicating you’re covetous of our meal and hoping we’ll share. But all we hear is, “You have the appetite of an American pygmy shrew!” (That’s an animal that literally must eat three times its weight every day or it will die. Why can’t I be so fortunate?) Keep your fork on your own plate.
3. If you’re a parent or significant other, nix the guilt, for cripes’ sake. It always backfires. (I think every time Mama Leite has guilted me about my weight, I’ve gained five pounds in rebound fat. It’s not out of spite, anger, or revenge. My response to guilt is to feel shame. Shame is an unpleasant emotion. I’m an emotional eater. So guilt = shame = eating. Second-grade math, folks.)
4. Don’t say to your adipose husband, “Hey, Hank! I’ll give you five dollars for each pound you lose.” Please. Bribery begins at $50 a pound.
5. Don’t buy one of those fat little pigs that you place in the fridge that oinks every time you open the door. We’ll hurl that thing at your head wicked hard.
6. Under no circumstances should you strike a deal with We Round Ones. No matter how well-intentioned you are, don’t say something like,”If you lose weight, I’ll stop nagging you about being such a rotten daughter-in-law.” That, too, will backfire. (Although I did strike a very shrewd bargain with Mama Leite during the holidays. We agreed that if I lose weight, she won’t hound me about my memoir. See, she’s paranoid about what I’m going to say about her and our family. It’s not the reason I’m losing weight, but it certainly took a lot of pressure off.)
7. At a dinner party, don’t say, “Here, why don’t you take this chair?” pointing toward the overstuffed club chair you dragged into the dining room. Do like my friend Carlotta does and sweetly say, “David, I’d love for you to sit at the head of the table.” And, of course, the only chairs that happen to fit at the head and foot of her table are her sturdiest ones. Not only do I get to preside over the evening, but it saves us both face.
8. Never ask, “Do you know how many Weight Watchers points are in that?” Because while you’re asking that, I’m plotting your murder. My Blubbery Brethren and I know the exact number of points, calories, and grams of carbs and fat in every food known to man. We can calculate to within .0001 percent accuracy the number of calories in a chicken-and-waffles all-you-can-eat buffet. A Turing machine has nothing on us.
9. Please don’t ask us to stand in the front row for a family photograph. We like the background. It hides our girth, and we can prop our chins on the heads of our shorter relatives to camouflage our onerous wattles.
10. And if you don’t know the answer when your beloved asks,”Honey, does this make me look fat?” then, my friend, I feel sorry for you.
Of course, this begs the question: What can you say? Well, that’s different for each person. When my friend Kate Jackson saw on social media that I was eating—wait for it, wait for it—quinoa, she texted me, “So proud of you.” Short, simple, and very encouraging. She even sent along a recipe. That is support.
In the end, it’s not what you say but rather what you don’t say that can help us. We know we’re heavy. We curse every time we have to wrestle with the seat belt. We know the relief that only sweatpants and Lycra can bring. In 2015, some of us will want to lose weight, while some of us will be content with the way we are. Me, I’m gunning to be 100 pounds lighter by Christmas. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. I’d love your help, encouragement, and support. But if you come around saying, “It’s just a matter of portion control,” I swear I’ll sit on you.
I was svelte it’s true, according to PanAm my former employee maybe even slighty underweight. I was fed heavy cream 3 times a day to pass the final interview and become a stewardess.
Today 50 years later I run into former colleagues who exclaim, “How could you let yourself go like that?” Easily done, it’s called food, glorious food, and the noble grape. Cooking is what I have done professionally for most of my later life, and I eat large portions.
David I salute you, I am rooting for you as I am going to try to start a regime of mindful eating. Be well and more than anything don’t beat yourself up, there are enough other people who stand in line to do that.
Thank you, Nywoman. And don’t let anyone say that again, because you’re a, “W-O-M-A-N.” Just like the Enjoli commercial says.
I’ve gotten a very thick skin working for an optometrist the last 14 years. Patients come in year after year and say things like “You sure have gotten bigger since last time I saw you.” Then of course they complain they cant see a thing. Hmmm. Seems like your vision and rudeness are about the same as before. I wish you luck in your weight loss journey this year. I don’t know what it will take for me, but maybe something magical will happen and I will suddenly hate the taste of food or no longer want to eat with every emotion. Keep up the good work!
Tracey, the irony is staggering….!!!
Shorter version of How To Talk To A Fat Person:
“Hi! How are you?”
“What have you been up to lately?”
“How is (spouse/parent/POSSLQ name)?”
“Have you seen (movie name here)?”
“Have you been to (new restaurant name here)?”
“When can we get together?”
Etc., etc., etc.
And here’s how a FP should reply: with a relevant answer that does not call attention to personal issues with shame/weight/food/addictions/fraught relationships, etc. In other words, quit being such a narcissist and GROW UP. You’ll find nobody really cares much about your weight if you are kind, thoughtful, good-hearted and have a great sense of humor.
P.S. I am a lifelong fat person. The only thing it’s kept me from doing is …. hmmmm. I’ll get back to you on that.
Joanne, I agree with you. If others ask me those questions, my weight doesn’t even come into play. But when others nag you about your weight, tease you about you weight, say things like, “The last thing you need is another piece of pie, on Thanksgiving day” etc., the conversation is about weight. And I hardly think if the subject of my weight is brought up by someone else it’s narcissistic and immature.
In my experience, often when it comes to weight, all politeness goes out the window. People who would never think of commenting on the state of your marriage, that you weren’t at church, that you drink too much, that you drive too fast often think nothing of talking about your weight. I agree we need to try to not think of ourselves as fat quite as much as we do and focus on what makes us great. But others need to leave it alone. Frankly, it’s none of their goddam business.