My Fat Cloak of Invisibility

[Christine Barber]

There's a great article on the New York Times website today called "Plus-Size Sideshow," which is all about television weight-loss shows.
Now, I have never watched even a second of "The Biggest Loser" or, God forbid, "Bulging Brides," so I speak with absolutely no authority in this area, but I wonder what good these shows do.
Yes, they provide inspirational stories that might motivate someone to lose weight.
But at what cost?
The person/contestant who has, at long last, lost the weight, is supposed to loo at all their embarrassing overeating moments and cringe at their previous obesity. They are supposed to disavow their former fat self like the head cheerleader ignoring the existence of the chess club president.
And it's not just on television.
People magazine's annual "Half Their Weight" issue seems to almost require their weight-loss losers to say much the same thing, that they are "humiliated" or "disgusted" by their previously fat self.
Why?
Why can't they just say, "I became fat as a way to deal with life, and I learned to no longer need to eat my problems away. But I am grateful for the protection my fat gave me when I needed it." It’s possible that some of them just ate too much because it tasted good, but I bet almost anyone who is more than 80 pounds overweight ate to avoid something in life.
What is the matter with admitting that? Of course, it's not good drama.
But it is what I'm trying to do.
I'm trying to get through this whole mess without demonizing my fat. I don't want it to be the enemy. I want to say, "It served its purpose and not I no longer need it."
Of course that leads me to trying to figure out what purpose it'd served.
I think about that a lot.
I must have at least a half dozen really good explanations as to why I chose to be fat. And they are all true. There are strangely many valid reasons (at least in my warped little brain) why someone should gain a lot of weight by binging on chocolate.
But today I am thinking about invisibility.
Being a fat person makes you invisible. Men don't find you attractive and women will be nice to you while pitying you. But they all expect nothing of you. Because you are fat.
I wanted to be invisible because my personality is too visible.
I've always liked my personality, but after years of being told I was too loud, too funny, too laughing, too teasing, I slapped it down to fit better into the world.
My personality often got me in trouble at work. I would tease someone who didn't understand my sense of humor, and I would get written up. On my yearly reviews, there was always some mention of me "toning things down." At another job, I was told to use my "indoor voice" and to take everything "down a notch." Even my friends had issues with my personality. One of my best friends once asked me to please not be so "me" when we went out so people (as in boys) would notice her.
So, I stopped being me.
I would still say all the jokes in my head, but not out loud. I would try to modulate my voice to fit the situation and considered taking voice lessons to fit in better.
But attempting to contain something that I should never have caged made me eat. I tried — as I was told too because I am a good girl — to make my personality invisible, and in the process ate my way into invisibility.
But enough of that.
This is me saying a big, loud, laughing "screw you" to all my past bosses, co-workers and "friends" who told me to change my personality. Yes, I am too loud, too laugh-y and too joke-y. And you might not think I fit into your quiet, serious world. And you’re right. But I fit just fine into my fun world.
I will no longer be invisible.
Consider the beast un-caged.

[Lisa]

Wow. You rock!

I read that article in the times also. Here's the link for anyone who hasn't caught it:
Plus- Size Sideshow

I think the article nailed a couple of about these reality shows (and the "Half Their Size" magazine spreads) that have bothered me.

1) It bothers me how the people who have more than 100 lbs to lose are forced to be "inspiring" along with losing the weight. They can't just lose the weight, they are required to give "motivation" to others. The article highlights that one cannot just be 40 or 70 lbs. overweight to get on these shows-- you have to need to lose 100 lbs. or more to even get on the show. I think they do this to appeal to the audience's prurient interests-- the viewer can say "At least I'm not as far gone as that slob." To me it seems like these are the people who need the most help, yet the TV shows (maybe I'm just picking on "The Biggest Loser" here) add the extra burden of requiring the person to transform themselves into an "inspiration." It's like there's a script for the show: there are the moments of crying while exercising, and there are midnight trips to the fridge caught on camera-- but in the end, the person "gets it together" and loses significant weight. Weight is lost, but the person's life is also transformed. Cue applause.

But what is the real value of the inspiration here? What is it about the isolation from one's real life, the diet, exercise, therapy, and trainer tough-love that I'm supposed to be inspired by? Show me the person who can lose 100 lbs. while cooking for their families and fitting in their exercise after a hard day's work. That's the person I'm going to be inspired by.

2) I think these media representations actually create unrealistic expectations about the pace and difficulty of weight loss. These expectations are problematic for the obese person, and even worse for the family members who might be trying to support weight loss. They reinforce the belief that if the obese person will just try hard enough, just dig deep enough into one's inexhaustible well of willpower, anyone can overcome obesity within the span of one television season. As Standley wrote:

These plus-size transformations are spellbinding, admirable and even enviable, but they are also teases, making impossible transformations seem just a commitment away. The lonely, self-hating journey of weight loss is turned into an exhilarating and emotionally fulfilling team sport.

The obese viewer, looking for "inspiration," stands as a witness to this televised quick fix. When their own weight loss does not match the results of those on television, the person wonders why they have been unable to achieve a similar miracle themselves. Or, when family members of the obese watch this neatly-packaged transformation, they can develop the expectation that their obese family member should be able to do the same, in the same time frame. In either case, when real life results don't match televised "reality," everyone continues to blame the obese person for their own predicament. That's not inspiration-- that's actively discouraging the modest progress one might make in real life.