Uncategorized 31 May 2010 12:37 am
Skinny privilege
Having googled around a bit, I learn that the one-slice sandwich trick is an ancient Weight Watchers technique called the “twofer”. I suppose you do save a hundred calories or so by not having the other slice of bread. To my mind, though, that’s not really the point.
Not that I won’t take it. Some of you know that I’ve been on what I’ve been calling the Stick ‘n’ Twig Diet. It’s not really that dire, particularly because I’ve been using it as an excuse to buy a lot of delicious, expensive fruits, vegetables, and fish. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I am a spoiled middle-class hippie now and I can have all the local asparagus I want, thank you very much. I rationalize that while wild Oregon shrimp is expensive, heart attacks are really expensive. I like to think I’ve learned something from my herniated disc experience; cheaping out on the jackhammer rental was not cost-effective.
It’s basically a Mediterranean-type diet that I’m doing, heavily informed by the Harvard School of Public Health and the World’s Healthiest Foods website, with a little special attention to my grain consumption. I’m luckier than many: not only can I afford it in terms of time, money, and energy, but my metabolism seems to be pretty much bog-standard. There is the problem of weight loss exacerbating the dysfunction of damaged nerves, but I’m learning to deal. It appears to be working pretty well. I’m now about ten pounds over my fightin’ weight and I’m not fed up with working at it yet.
Next month I’ll check my blood chemistry, which is the point of all this. Some numbers came back a few months ago that startled me, and my doctor kind of shrugged and said, “Hey, lose some weight.” But, gosh, a lot of things can make those numbers look screwy. There could have been some other things going on besides my thunderous BMI of 26, and there’s been some excellent reason to consider them. (As I said to a friend, “Yeah, I know that when you hear hoofbeats, you should think horses, not zebras — but not if you live down the road from the zebra farm.”) No likely alternate explanation looks to be terribly urgent, from what I can tell, so I didn’t kick up a fuss, but… Look, I like my doctor. I like him very much indeed, overall. But I had to wonder: as long as I was overweight, could I really count on getting timely, appropriate medical treatment? How much did I want to bet? Did I want to bet my health? Because that’s what I was betting.
So I’ve been taking off a chunk of the nearly forty pounds I gained on Depo-Provera back in 2004. Some of that fat I arguably needed; the rest, not so much. It was an interesting experience, gaining that much weight in the space of about three months. I’d known that we lived in a fatphobic society, but I’d had no idea that the fatphobia kicked in at such a moderate weight. As far as I was concerned, my new size was ordinary and unexceptionable. But I could see the social world around me getting subtly chillier — not my friends, but people with whom I’d casually interact.
I told myself I was imagining things. I informed myself that I was just silly and awkward about my new shape, and all I needed was a better wardrobe and to carry myself more gracefully. I bought a few decent shirts, joined a yoga class, and eventually became a Pilates fiend. I felt better than I had since my early twenties, built a ton of muscle, and discovered my inner jock. I learned to carry myself more like a dancer. For a while I sported a diabolically fabulous haircut. And I’m telling you, folks, it wasn’t the clothes, the body language, the confidence, or the mind-body relationship that was most at issue. It was, in fact, the fat.
Now that I’m a good twenty pounds down, I see things happening in reverse. I think I look pretty much the same, but the world is reacting to me differently now. I thought I’d revel in having that privilege back, but the truth is I do not. But there it is: I go out to lunch and the guy at the counter seems really happy to take my order. The young woman wiping down my table is a bit more enthusiastic than I’m used to. I get on the bus and accidentally drop a quarter, and the bus driver grins sympathetically and tells me not to worry about it. The world is warming up again. People seem to act as if they know me. When I’m not feeling baffled at my strangely friendly reception, I feel like a spy from Plumpland, slimmed down for my secret mission among a strange and deluded people.
on 31 May 2010 at 7:26 am 1.Sarah said …
As I have gained my married weight (maybe 20 ish pounds?), I have noticed this mostly from my decade-younger coworkers. They get a look in their eye, of we’re not going to take you seriously, no matter what you say. It’s partly a fashion thing, partly weight. I had to build credibility with them, slowly. The more I dress fashionably, the more they’ll listen to me. But I’ve noticed the general middle aged woman’s invisibility shield creeping up on me occasionally as well. I’ve been losing weight due to my no sugar, no deep fried foods diet, and the thinner I get, the younger people think I am. Fascinating stuff. Makes me glad I grew to personhood in the semi-geek community, where at least ostensibly, none of it mattered. Kind of like pretending America’s a democracy: Your baseline standard is an ideal to shoot for, so when you fall short, you’re still doing awesome.
on 31 May 2010 at 8:27 am 2.Carol said …
This is fascinating, in a depressing sort of way. I don’t doubt you, but I would say don’t overgeneralize.
I gradually gained weight after leaving college, for a variety of reasons. Everything from having more money to spend on food to learning to like a wider diet. I used to hate anything fatty; that is no longer the case. So I slowly went from around 125 to around 150 or so.
On graveyard shift, I gained weight much more rapidly, and went up to around 175. That’s about 25 pounds in about 6 months, and it freaked me out.
One reason for the freakout – I couldn’t just say, oh, I’ll diet, because I was diet phobic. I used to joke about it, but when I reached the weight where I wanted to contemplate going on one, I realized it was no joke, and in fact was a very real fear. YEARS later, I figured out why. Strangely enough, the fact that one of my sisters starved herself during adolescence may have played a contributing factor. But for decades, I did not think of her as anorexic, and it did not occur to her that her behavior influenced mine.
So I came up with a rationale about how I was going to do something that was not a diet, because it involved making a permanent change in how I ate rather than a temporary one followed by a reversion to my old habits. That is actually good advice, though I did not follow it completely. But my motive was to avoid attaching the word “diet” to my behavior.
Anyway, I tried to make a slight shift to a healthier diet. I read a lot about weight loss and gain, which is actually a fascinating subject from a scientific perspective. At first I did not make any progress, but eventually I managed to lose about 20 pounds.
Now I had not tried to deal with this until I left the graveyard shift job. After I lost the weight, I had occasion to return for a day to my old place of employment, and everyone instantly pegged that I had lost weight, with some of them correctly being able to say how much! These were not people I knew very well. It was kind of creepy, actually.
Anyway, eventually Ulysses and I made plans to open a coffeeshop. During the final months prior to opening, I was sick from stress to the point where I couldn’t eat normally, and dropped down to about 125 pounds again. While running the shop, I was surrounded by unhealthy temptation and also ate a lot to alleviate stress, depression, and boredom. (Stress eating is my usual response – NOT eating due to stress only happened when the stress became extremely acute.) My weight crept back up to about 160.
Throughout all of this, I did not notice people treating me differently. Now one explanation could be that I am oblivious, and that could certainly be a part of things.
Another factor might be that because I dress plainly, don’t wear makeup, don’t have a fashionable haircut, and most of all don’t tend to make much eye contact, I never experience that baseline level of warmth and (for want of a better word) flirtiness that you only get when you are skinnier.
I think there’s pretty reliable studies showing that attractive people get treated better. It’s probably more complicated than just weight, though.
As I side note, I will mention that you never looked very much different to me! So when you started talking about needing to lose weight, I was actually kind of worried. But you didn’t start starving yourself, so I gradually calmed down.
Like I said, I’m diet-phobic… even when I myself engage in them.
on 31 May 2010 at 12:14 pm 3.wolffire said …
I’m now down to about ten pounds less than I weighed when I got married, the lowest weight I’ve maintained since my college days. I feel good, I look good, and all that is great. I recognize the subtle (and some not so subtle) shifts you’re talking about in the way people act or react to me.
I don’t attribute all of it to how people react to my outside, though. I’ve noticed that I feel more confident and centered. When I look in the mirror, there is a more (how to put this?) essential me looking back. A “me” that even I recognize as being more “me” somehow. As if the extra weight those stupid fake hormones I took years ago put on me also layered on some sort of mask that hid me from myself.
Eating better, exercising, and getting good quality rest…these all contribute to health. And a healthier me is also more open to interacting with the world. Having lost the extra pounds I’ve been carrying around is a contributor to all of this. It isn’t the whole story, though.
on 31 May 2010 at 3:29 pm 4.Cam Sculpin said …
That’s kind of the interesting thing about all this, wolffire, at least to me: I’m not more confident and centered. That herniated disc put me through the wringer both physically and emotionally. I’m struggling to regain most of the physical gains I’d made (oh, beautiful arm muscles, come back!) I do feel shy about my newly Chaplinesque gait, not to mention the way I occasionally lose my balance for no clear reason and keel over to the left. I get nervous about doing things that might bring the pain on. Truly, I’m not in a better state than I was two years ago.
Which isn’t to say “oh poor me,” just that, huh, through no particular plan of my own, the confidence and centeredness thing doesn’t apply as I might otherwise have imagined it would.
on 01 Jun 2010 at 4:59 am 5.Lisa said …
The one slice of bread sandwich is also a diabetes trick. That one slice packs a load of carbs, and why waste precious carb allowance on bread? If I’m really good all day I can eat dessert at dinner without a bad spike in blood sugar. I’m thinking about going on the diabetes diet again as I gained much after weening Derek and Jon and I want to start on the second kid. I swore that next time I would be in shape and all… Ha! I’m currently in worse shape than last time. I would very much like to avoid gestational diabetes again though, it really made me feel like hell. Both your eating plans are good for diabetics I think. My doc once said that she wishes that everyone stuck to a diabetic diet.
on 01 Jun 2010 at 5:07 am 6.Lisa said …
On the flirting thing, it also counts when I dress nice. But I’ve noticed that certian guys Who would normally be out of my league will respond and be flirty back once they notice the wedding ring and deemed me safe. Also, if there are no other prettier girls around.
on 01 Jun 2010 at 7:42 am 7.Gene said …
I gained 20 pounds in about two months due to a total cessation of my vigorous hobby and a significant other who had a strange desire to plump up her bfs. Being with her for the next two years got me the next 40 pounds up to a BMI of 31. As a guy, it was strange that nobody seemed to care about my weight except for me. It was a struggle to get evidence that this was hurting my health, even though my family has a history of diabetes and heart disease, to convince my gf to take my weight gain seriously.
As a guy, looking older was good in my current line of work and it’s been less helpful that I’ve lost the weight and look younger. I think it’s interesting that for women that there is a directional alignment between health and appearance, though the magnitude is typically way the heck off, whereas for men looking larger appeared to be expected and gave me more respect. After losing the weight, I’ve had to compensate by moving my body as if I were older.
on 01 Jun 2010 at 9:00 am 8.wolffire said …
Cam, I suppose it’s not entirely fair of me to attribute the confidence to the new (more visually accepted) version of me. I’ve gone through some internal shifts in the past 3-4 years that have bouyed up that emotional/spiritual foundation of confidence too. Being fired twice by the same employer and surviving it, getting better at dealing with temporary and intense interpersonal situations in a work setting, and learning to leave work at work…these changes have all been happening in concert with the weight loss.
Also, your comments about being shy with your new gait and avoiding pain…I just want to acknowledge those. And that I appreciate how you articulate and reflect on what you experience.