Ever since I can remember I have had certain brackets of my weight that I have deemed acceptable or manageable and in the inevitability of weight gain that comes with years of disordered eating I have had to learn to accept these numbers each time I enter into a new bracket. I’m not quite sure if there is an actual method to my madness but it seems like a number with a zero or a five tends to illicit a strong response. But the rules are always changing and no matter how hard I try, I easily end up in the ‘wrong’ bracket (whatever that means…)
Up until last year when I was pregnant with my daughter, I had done a pretty good job of not being aware of a number on the scale. I would like to be the kind of person who can refuse a weigh-in at the doctor but I’m not quite there yet, so I have learned to step on the scale and not look at the number. This has worked pretty well.
There have been very few times in my life when I have lost a significant amount of weight, the majority of times have been due to illness – most recently during my pregnancy. I lost a chunk of weight because I had horrible nausea. It was the first time in my life my doctor told me they were concerned about my weight and it wasn’t because they thought I needed to lose some. And even though I wanted to believe it to be different there was a small part of me that felt a flush of pride or excitement each time I learned I had lost a few more pounds. And then I would immediately be filled with anger and shame and berate myself for being more concerned with a number on the scale than the health and wellbeing of my baby.
Since giving birth I had not looked at the scale but had assumed that I would gain that weight back and in theory felt okay with that.
I recently had a doctor’s appointment and tried to prepare myself for being weighed. I went into the office feeling okay and I got on the scale, found a spot on the wall to look at and stepped off feeling glad I hadn’t looked at the number. Then, the nurse decided to announce it out loud.
My heart sank. The number had indeed gone back up plus some. And this new number was in a new (self imposed) bracket. I felt hot and flushed and like I was going to cry but I held it back and then had my blood pressure taken which, surprise, was super high – this is not the norm for me. I started down the path in my thoughts of how my blood pressure was obviously high because I had gained weight and what a horrible, unhealthy person I was and blah blah blah and then I stopped myself and was able to reframe.
Could it be possible that my blood pressure was so high because I had just been activated by hearing my weight read out loud and all the thoughts that flooded me after?
I remembered having my blood pressure taken when I was a kid and there was a nurse that I didn’t like and anytime he took it, it would be high because he made me nervous. So my doctor would take it herself and sure enough, it would be fine. I managed to say some version of this to the nurse and she seemed to understand and said they would take it again. It ended up not happening which at the time was fine for me. But now I am left wondering, wow – should I be worried about my blood pressure? Do you think I want to go back to the doctor to have it taken again? Hell no.
I know my story is not uncommon, how often do we avoid medical care to protect ourselves from these experiences?
After I got back from the doctor I started spiraling out about how could I be offering support to other fat folx if I was still so disregulated by this experience? I’m supposed to be the expert, right? Supposed to love my body at all times and not be phased by numbers… Obviously that is bullshit and not true and if any of us waited until we had it all figured out to do anything, we’d do nothing. That has been one of the reasons I had previously avoided explicitly working with other fat folx, I was afraid I wasn’t ‘healed enough’ to show up and hold space. I have been working hard to accept myself for where I’m at.
I wanted to share this experience because I know I’m not alone in this. and also to reiterate and highlight the insidiousness of fat phobia. I have done so much work to make peace with my body. And most days, it pays off and I am able to regulate and move through life in an okay relationship with her. But it is totally valid that years of assigning meaning to numbers and these brackets and the continued exposure to our diet obsessed culture would make it a little wobbly for me sometimes. It’s ok to be be affected by numbers on a scale. Unlearning the lies of diet culture is a life long process. Sometimes I can forget that but today I am remembering to take it step by step.
