On Being Bigger Than I Was
The complications and joys of having a body
Just for a moment, I considered taking a photo of my belly. I hadn’t yet got dressed and I was musing about writing this piece - maybe the rolls of fat at my middle would be an appropriate illustration? As soon as one part of me made the suggestion, other parts of me recoiled at the very idea. ‘Disgusting,’ they said. And, ‘too vulnerable.’ ‘You’ll make yourself a target for sexual predation.’ ‘Show off.’ Finally, ‘You’ll be judged, and shamed, and you should be ashamed.’
And so here is where I begin, in the midst of the tangled thicket of my thoughts and feelings about having a body.
I am bigger than I was. There are various reasons for this - some guessed at, some unknown. The lockdowns, with their spotlight on fewer possible things-to-enjoy, and food being one of them. The natural metamorphosis my body is going through as I edge towards menopause. Not wanting to be fatter, and the resultant ‘last supper’ eating.
Eating and bodies are hugely complicated - especially for women, and increasingly for all of us. I have lived for forty eight years in a society that prizes thinness. I have read the medical advice about obesity. I grew up seeing millions of airbrushed images and watching thin women on screens. I absorbed the confusing messages I received from my family when I was a young teenager (‘don’t get fat/don’t get anorexic’). I still remember my teenage excitement at the first bigger catwalk model, and my disappointment when she ended up looking like all the others (she still does).
I have spent decades comparing my body to other women’s bodies. Is she fatter than me? Is she thinner than me? How bad is it?
I can’t trust myself when it comes to my body. There are voices inside me that have been pounding away at their agendas forever. They say things like, ‘your weight is the most important thing about you’. ‘People won’t like you if you’re fat.’ ‘You must have free access to all foods at all times.’ ‘If you were a better person you’d be able to lose weight.’ ‘Your life would be amazing if you were thinner.’ ‘Don’t get sucked in by the glossy magazines.’ Back and forth. These voices come from patriarchy, from the greed of the diet industry, from fatphobia, from my family’s complicated history of how it was to be in smaller or bigger bodies. They are trying to help me. I feel for them. Which of them should I listen to? What should I do?
I went shopping at the weekend. For some reason, I felt open to looking at lots of different clothes in bigger sizes. ‘I am this size right now’, I thought, ‘and these clothes are available. I can try them on.’ I carried a huge pile into the changing room, laughing with the attendant at my excess. A long apple-green shirt with an elegant neck. A frilled denim top to wear with jeans. An embroidered blue dress! I examined my reflection. I looked good in those clothes. I looked happy.
What should I do about being bigger than I was? I have weighed up (!) my particular history with food and my body and I have made the best decision I can - one that is likely to change over time. Right now, intuitive eating* wins out over my tendency towards preoccupation with food. I will continue to listen to my body and eat whatever I want, whenever I want.
Is this the right decision? Maybe I will keep getting bigger and bigger. Maybe my health will be compromised - who knows which body (!) of science we should believe when it comes to those of us carrying more weight.
I’m okay with that. I am mostly free from the obsession that sneaks in when I start restricting my food intake. That is worth a lot. Just for today, I am content to be the size I am. When I put on my blue dress, I am positively delighted about it.
I wouldn’t dream of thinking that I know what’s best for you and your body. There may be similarities to our experiences, but each of us is utterly unique. We need to keep seeking our own best-fit-for-now answers.
I am writing because I want to shine a little light on the hugely powerful systems we all grew up under, systems that have been exerting insidious pressure on us since we were very young. There are many good places you can read more about these systems - Substack’s own Virginia Sole-Smith amongst them.
I am writing because I would like to offer love to all the parts of us that try and help us with our bodies - by cajoling us, hating us, shaming us, pushing us, making us feel disgusted, judging us and controlling us. They are doing the best they can for us in a complicated world.
I am sharing my story in the hope that it may give you permission to go gently with your own body.
I am loving my body-as-it-is as an offering to us all.
Go gently, and may your beautiful bodies go gently too,
Satya <3
PS I’d love to hear about your own experiences if you are willing to share in the comments.
⭐ ⭐⭐
* Here’s a short summary of intuitive eating and here’s an article by the women who created it.
Very relatable, Satya. My weight has always fluctuated, and I was happiest with my appearance when I dropped to a size 8 in my 40s - stress-induced, in hindsight. And yet, well-intentioned friends would look at me with concern and lament my 'too-thinness'. It was crushing. At 52, I now have a thickened waist, coupled with the pot belly and ample boobs that have always been my default, plus what I condemn as "pudgy" arms. And yet: every so often, from some very sheltered and safe corner inside me, a little voice whispers "Damn, your boobs are magnificent. Wow, look at those sensual curves!" I am so grateful to that little part of me that contains radical, clear-sighted love for this body of mine, and I am so pleased you are finding the joys of your beautiful body too. Thank you for offering a safe space, once again, for us to express ourselves.
A very important conversation. Many of us are on medication that can impact our weight. I have gained almost 70 pounds in 5 years and it’s been very hard on my body. If one more person tells me to just eat less I will scream. I appreciate the link to intuitive eating.