Why You Should NEVER Comment on Someone's Weight

Before we dive in, I'd like to apologize for my temporary blogging hiatus. Life's just been a tad bit crazy lately but... I'm back!

Yesterday, October 6, 2018, was a special day. Every year, my sister, mom, grandma, and I drive to a park near my grandparent's townhouse to attend one of the best local craft fairs. It is absolutely giant, with rows upon rows of tents, a sea of white across the grassy green grounds, hundreds of people mingling, and incredible crafts dominating the scene. There are are thousands of colors and textures, art made out of glass and paper and everything in between, and proud vendors displaying their work for all to see. We've been going to this particular craft fair for longer than I can remember. Each year, the thrill of being in a crowd of fellow creative-minded people is just as wonderful. Yesterday was no exception.

This is also my mom's birthday weekend, so after the fair, our family congregated in my grandparent's home for a special dinner. My mom requested my grandfather's famous ribs along with some roasted veggies, and he prepared a special strawberry pie as a surprise. My dad also picked up a pumpkin spice Bundt cake, so we were far from short on desserts. And as for me? I wasn't about to just sit there while they all indulged in amazing treats - I brought a few squares of 92% dark chocolate to enjoy. There was plenty of laughter, joy, and love. All in all, it was a great day.

But, as is true for most good days, there was a downside. It seems as though the positive always comes with a dash of negative. I guess it's inevitable, but it still sucks. In the time right between the craft fair and waiting for the rest of my family to arrive for dinner, I sat down at the kitchen table to get some homework done. I have a ton of homework, everyone. A ton. I'm just mentioning that in case any of my teachers are reading this and would perhaps like to rethink their stances on weekend homework. Anyway. There I was, being productive and minding my own business when my great-grandmother arrived. Great Grandma Lois is in her late nineties. She is very deaf, very traditional, and speaks very loudly. I stood up to greet her, hugging her tiny little frame, and was met with "Hello, Maya. I haven't seen you in a while. I could hardly have recognized you." It seemed like the sort of thing all grandmothers say. You know, the whole I swear you've grown three inches since I last saw you spiel. And then I went back to work, answering questions about Act 1, Scene 4 of August Wilson's Fences. Great Grandma Lois went to sit in the living room with Mom and Abby. They chatted idly for a bit, about life, about birthdays, and then I heard Great Grandma Lois say "Maya's gained a lot of weight."

Wait... what?

I turned slowly from the screen on my Chromebook. I met my mom's eyes, and she started to shake her head in a 'that's not what she meant' sort of way. But the damage had been done. Ignoring my mom, I swiveled back to the computer, tears in my eyes. I resumed typing, staring at the screen and trying so hard not to cry. My face felt hot and flushed and I wanted to leave. I didn't want to be at this party. I didn't want to hear Great Grandma Lois' comments about my body. And I most certainly didn't want to eat in front of her. Because the truth is, no matter how often I preach about body positivity, no matter how diligently I exercise and eat healthily, I am vulnerable. I have a chink in my armor, and under that chink is raw insecurity. And my Great Grandma had just found that self-doubt and speared it head on.

Now, I know that I am healthy. I know that it is a marvelous thing that I have gained weight and an accomplishment that I recovered from my eating disorder. But the thing about recovery is that it is never definite. There will be good days and bad days, and I will always and forever feel uncomfortable in my skin every once and a while. It's true that Great Grandma Lois may have been remarking on my weight will glee, with pleasure that I don't look like walking, talking skin and bones anymore. Despite her intentions, which were probably those of a concerned family member, the comment stung. I barely ate dinner that night because she was sitting directly across from me, and I didn't want her to think that I ate too much. I felt unworthy. I felt purposeless. I felt like a disgusting creature.

It is for this reason that I believe it can be damaging to comment on other people's weight.

It may seem innocent enough to tell your friend on a diet that they have clearly lost a few pounds and look great, but what if that friend has an eating disorder? And never comment on someone's weight gain. Perhaps they are going through a traumatic time in their life, like losing a loved one. Or maybe they have a medical condition. Or maybe they are simply the size they are and are proud of it.

Be proud of your bodies, my friends. Respect them, and respect the figures of others by choosing to compliment their personality rather than their weight. Remember that weight is nothing more than a measure of gravity's effect on your body. You deserve the world, my friends. You deserve to live life, to live this miracle we wake up to each dawn, without worrying about what other people think of you. Do you all recall the post I completed a little while back, about the "I Weigh" movement? If so, remember that your true weight is composed of all of the people in your life, your hopes and dreams, your failures, and your journey. A singular number on a scale cannot define who you are or who you will become. And finally - remember that health is not one size fits all. You can be tall and lanky and healthy. You can be short and curvy and healthy. Health comes in all colors, all genders, all sexual orientations, from all backgrounds, in all ages, etc. You can still be healthy without looking exactly like an Olympic athlete. Further, your mental and emotional well-being are just as (if not more) important as your physical fitness. Your mind has the ability to make you a more beautiful person than your body does; while looks fade with time, personality, kindness, and compassion remain strong.

Readers, I implore you never to forget that you are always good enough. That everyone is always good enough. You can help to stop the culture our society has developed that places appearances above all else. Oh... and if your Great Grandmother comments on your body - I suggest you ignore her.

That's all for now, everyone. Have a splendid evening.
- Maya

Photo by Eye for Ebony on Unsplash, Photo by Maya, Photo by Adam Gong on Unsplash,
Photo by Harps Joseph on Unsplash, Photo by Alejandro Alvarez on Unsplash,
Photo by Duy Pham on Unsplash