The Biggest Liar…

On Saturday I might I watched The Biggest Loser. I didn’t really want to, I knew it would infuriate me and I was correct.

I never watched The Biggest Loser when it was showing. Not because I knew better, at the time I was very much steeped in diet culture & self loathing. It just wasn’t available on whatever tv channels I had at the time. So, for me, this was the first time seeing clips of the show. I felt rage, sadness and an overwhelming urge to intervene. The abuse those people were subjected to is appalling. Sadly I remember how commonplace that was at the time. I completely understand why the contestants signed up for this public humiliation.

For me, the documentary went way too easy on those involved in creating this programme. Right off the bat, Bob Harper (one of the show trainers) claims that he regrets nothing he did on The Biggest Loser. No one takes any real responsibility for the fact that they caused real and lasting harm. The film makers allow the producers, trainers and show Dr to dodge accountability with pathetic excuses. I felt that the documentary ultimately reinforced the message of the show; the ends justify the means.

The creators of The Biggest Loser (BL) admit that they purposely used sensationalist tactics to attract attention. They knew the connotations of the name and played on it. They wanted people to tune in thinking they could judge these ‘fat losers’. They encouraged the trainers to be outrageous, they wanted contestants to throw up, cry etc. They knew the vile ‘challenges’ were cruel and unnecessary, but it made good television. They excused this exploitation by claiming that they were improving people’s health. In other words, all was acceptable in the name of thin. Everyone involved knew they were hurting people. Dr Robert Huizenga, the programme’s medical advisor told them so. He claimed that he regularly met with the trainers to explain his recommendations. He also admitted he was aware that they ignored him; they cut the calorific intake to dangerous levels and over trained people to the point of injury. Dr Huizenga tries to paint himself as caring medical professional who was helpless in his attempts to prevent harm. In reality he had a duty of care, he should have left the show and reported the dangerous practices. He could have stopped taking their money and spoken out at any time. He didn’t, he continued to profit from damaging fat people. Not only the people on the show, but all fat people who were impacted by the message of the BL.

That gist of that message was that fat people are lazy and gross. The ‘temptation’ challenges reinforced the idea that fat people can’t control themselves. The cruelty of those challenges is ignored in the discussion, the participants were forced to choose between gorging on ‘junk food’ or missing visits with their families. The footage included in the documentary shows participants crying whilst eating pizza slices; their suffering was entertainment. The show revelled in degrading the fat competitors. Tasks that made them build food towers with their mouths, trainers screaming, participants set against each other. Placing people on extreme diets, working them past exhaustion daily and then capturing their disputes and meltdowns on camera is repulsive. Worse still is the soul destroying message the trainers rammed home. Once the abuse was concluded they would tell participants that it was for their own good. I only shouted because I care about you, I knew you could do it, I didn’t want you to give up. Then the nail in the coffin, ‘don’t make me have to do that again’. The lesson to the participants and the viewing public? This is your fault. It’s your fault you are fat. It’s your fault you don’t apply yourself. It’s your fault that I had to abuse you.

All of this aside, the BL’s main claim, that they were improving lives, was obviously not true. Even if weight loss was a magic cure all, their process was clearly unsustainable. No one can live on 600-800 calories p/d forever. People with jobs, families and lives cannot train for 8hrs a day, everyday. It doesn’t take a genius to conclude that as soon as participants return to their regular life, they will gain weight. I have partaken in enough crash dieting to know how quickly the weight returns. One of the former contestants in the documentary talked of how he asked the BL to set up aftercare and was denied. Other contestants reached out to seek help for injuries sustained on the show and were ignored. Cut to a producer explaining that they didn’t have the budget for aftercare. Plus he didn’t think it was their responsibility. They were making a tv show; what happened after wasn’t their business. Meanwhile we learn the BL franchise earned billions. They licensed their name to every product you can imagine. Further exploiting vulnerable people desperate to lose weight. It was a cash grab and fat people were paying for it.

The only entirely critical voice in the documentary is fat activist, Aubrey Gordon. Her contributions are insightful and impactful. Alas, there was not nearly enough of her. Even the former BL contestants who were critical of the show were still heartbreakingly steeped in fat phobia. They were still seeking weight loss, still blaming themselves and still felt they weren’t good enough. The evidence of the consequence of extreme dieting was somewhat skimmed over. Studies on broken metabolism, life threatening conditions and even Bob Harper’s heart attack are treated as incidental. They place no importance on the fact that a man who adhered to the supposed ideal diet and lifestyle had a massive heart attack at 52. As if that information doesn’t disprove the central argument of The Biggest Loser.

The documentary concluded with more diet culture propaganda. They give obesity stats without ever mentioning that those numbers are based on BMI. A measurement that has been conclusively proven to be inaccurate. It’s a non scientific, racist scale. The documentary makers allow the show creators, trainers and Dr to claim good intent and even positive results. Their hearts were in the right place, they say. They made some people thin. Damn the ramifications. After all, anything is better fat.

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All you need to do darling, is fit in that little dress…

I got an email from photobucket. Actually, I got several that I had ignore because I had more pressing issues. I should have continued pressing because opening the 12th email and clicking that link was a mistake.

Amongst page after page of self harm photos I found pictures of a girl I don’t fully remember. I don’t know why I say a girl, I was a woman. I seem more like a lost girl, though. I look like someone who wants to disappear. I was someone in the process of vanishing. Looking at those photos hurt. It’s painful to see how desperately Ill and unhappy I was. Even more agonising to realise how much the world approves of that version of me. A person who hated themselves so much they wouldn’t eat properly & spilling their own blood felt reasonable. But hey, look how I thin I was.

I lost ridiculous amounts of weight in a very short time. I started with what I believed to be a very reasonable calorie restriction. A nice round number that I saw in magazines & tv shows. The weight came off quickly. People around me were pleased. I enjoyed the positive reinforcement. Everything else in my life was a disaster, I liked doing something that everyone was happy about. I also liked my discipline; how strict I could be. I began to relish the hunger pangs and how good I was at ignoring them. When the weight loss slowed I reduced the calories. I limited how many each meal could contain. I couldn’t eat before or after certain times. I filled up on Diet Coke. I had ‘fast’ days and just eat veg days. Rules piled up and weight fell off.

I did this more than once. The weight loss was never maintainable. Each time I started again I believed I would just follow a ‘healthy’ diet. Every attempt at lifestyle change descended into extreme behaviour. The only people who questioned this were the few who’d had their own food issues. I assured them I was ok. This weight loss was good for me. I wasn’t doing anything crazy, in fact I felt so much healthier. I’m sure the believed (or almost did) me because I didn’t think I was lying. I honestly thought the means justified the ends. Being fat was horrible. I was disgusting, I ate too much and it was terrible for me. Having some restraint was improving my body inside and out. I knew I was fudging the details a little, but I really didn’t think I was doing anything dangerous. I did eat. I very rarely threw up. The things left in my diet were all ‘good’ foods. The congratulations rolled in. Besides, I wasn’t even very thin.

I don’t even blame the people who did all the high fiving. They knew I had been unhappy with my bigger body. Those close to me knew how appalling my mental health was. It looked to the outside world like I was doing something good for myself. I seemed more confident, more at peace with my body. Of course we all live in diet culture. Thinner bodies are better. I understand why my weight loss was something to celebrate.

The professionals are another story. They should have known better. I was so very Ill. I was in regular contact with all manner of Drs. My self harm was out of control. I was getting stitched up multiple times a week. The blood loss was wreaking havoc. I had angina attacks, constantly passed out. No sooner was a blood transfusion in than I was working on getting it back out. I had already started to experience the problems that led to pancreatitis. They watched my weight rapidly drop. Climb back up. Then fall off again. Not a single medical professional ever thought to question that. They were the opposite of worried. I was praised. They loved seeing the change on the scale. I was explicitly told how good this shrinking was for me. I didn’t even lie about how I was doing it. I’d joke with nurses about ‘just not eating’. I explained my calorie restrictions and the extent of my diet to Drs. It was all excellent. Keep up the good work. Well, done you!

Even the mental health teams I was working with didn’t raise any alarms. We only ever talked about my weight loss in positive terms. They were glad it was helping my self esteem. There was never any in depth conversation about how I really felt, what I was doing or why. There should have been. They knew my history and my problems. There are so many links between self harm & disordered eating. Control being the most obvious. The triggers for the behaviours can be the same; shame, self hatred, feeling a failure, punishment. They can achieve similar results like a feeling of release or a sense of achievement. My self harm was compulsive and so was the weight loss. I was atoning and deleting the parts of me I despised. The only real difference between the two was how acceptable it was to want to be thin.

As I write this I recognise all the signs of an eating disorder. Yet I cannot accept that diagnosis fits. I can admit I had an unhealthy relationship with food. I know I used extreme methods to lose weight, but disordered eating is as far as I can allow myself to go. Intellectually I know why. I was never dangerously thin. In the midst of it I didn’t ever believe I was thin at all. Those old pictures were shocking because I have no recollection of being as slim as that person. I began my diets fat. Eventually I always returned to fat. That’s why no one ever considered an ED a possibility. It remains why I could never accept the label. For all my learning and activism there is an internalised fat phobia that I’m not sure I will ever shake.

I have compassion for my former self. I am angry at the people who should have helped me. I am happier in my fat body than I ever could have dreamed of in my dieting days. I don’t want to go back. Nor do I want to be smaller. I do however still hold this feeling that I have no right to talk about myself in certain ways. I feel fake. Despite knowing all that I know, I still can’t change the feeling that it wasn’t bad enough for an official title.

That realisation is painful. It hurts to know that nothing has really changed. There are people in the same situation right now. The medical community is still exceptionally fat phobic. If you are fat, disordered eating is encouraged. Prescribed, even. We’re still insisting people fall below a certain BMI before they can be referred for treatment. The fact that Drs are even using BMI is in itself horrendous. People are hurting themselves and the world loves it.

This is why body liberation is essential. It is so much deeper than loving one’s body. Weight stigma is systemic. Built right into the places we are supposed to turn to for help. Fat phobia is in us all. It is insidious and deadly. We all deserve better.

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Fuck you, Fuck you very, very much…

New year, New You. Are you sick of this bullshit yet? I’ve been done with it for eons. Every bloody January the diet talk ramps up & the weight loss industry tries to convince us that thin is a magic elixir. Just when I thought I had seen it all Khloe Kardashian steps up with Revenge Body. Rage ensues. 


So, as far as I can tell the format of the show is as follows:

Person is overweight.

Said person has been bullied, cheated on, in some way hurt. 

This hurt was either attributed to and/or impacted on their self image & confidence. 

KK’s solution is lose weight & therefore get revenge on those who caused the hurt. 

Where do I even start with how fucked up this is? probably by applying the old maxim that the best revenge is living well. You do not gain power over an abuser by complying with their demands. True power comes from setting your own agenda. Self esteem is routed in liking who you are. Wether that be your physical appearance, personality, chosen work or lifestyle. Strengthing the belief that people must conform to specific beauty standards in order to be loved & respected is the furthest thing from empowerment. 


That’s before I even get to how toxic the notion of revenge is. If someone cannot treat you with the care that you deserve you should absolutely disengage. You don’t need to put up with any fuckwittage be it from a romantic partner, family member or friend. Ditch them & do you. Live your life exactly as you please. Spending time with people who appreciate you is healthy. Changing yourself to fit someone else’s ideal is not. Nor does it in anyway shift the power balance. Seeking revenge keeps noxious people in your head.  Fuck that. 

Which leads me to the most obvious problem with this concept. Body positivity is not about altering your body, it’s about changing accepted terms of what a ‘good body’ is. You do not need to lose weight to love yourself. You do not need to submit to diets & work outs to be a healthy, happy & productive person. The real revolution is in learning to enjoy the marvellous body you have. We must reject the assumption that fat equals undeserving. We must also exstinguish the view that our problems can all attributed to our weight. Life is complicated, wearing a size 8 will not conquer all your demons. However, tackling the ingrained fatphobia may just lead to a happier you. Trust me, you’re magnificent & there is a growing BoPo movement to help you believe it. 

I would be good…..

So, here it is, the obligatory New Year’s resolution post. I doubt it will surprise anyone to learn that I will not be worrying about any of the dieting bullshit. In fact I shall be trying my best to eschew all negative, body policing type thoughts. My focus shall be on enjoying life & challenging myself in positive ways.

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Living with chronic illness can make seizing the moment difficult. Sometimes I really am too sick to do anything, no matter how amazing the opportunity. This year I have decided I will try to be a bit more strategic about my day to day life. I’m hopeful that simple changes such as keeping track of how much sleep I’m getting, taking gentle excercise when I feel up to it & keeping up with my food diary will ease managing my illnesses. I have also resolved to make bigger changes for instance trying a gluten & dairy free diet & pushing my consultants to make a care plan of sorts instead of just constantly adjusting/altering meds. Of course none of these things will cure me, but perhaps a change in diet, being conscious of getting enough rest & so on will improve my symptoms somewhat. At the very least I will feel more in control & I am big on control!

That time of year can be a nightmare for fat folk. Everywhere you look there are diets & fitness regimes. Friends, magazines & celebs alike insisting we must lose any xmas weight gain, pushing us to aspire to a ‘new you’ for a new year. Well, I am hoping for a slightly new me, but it has nothing to do with my weight. I am striving to block it all out completely. I no longer want to think of myself in terms of fat/thin. If you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, you will know I have already come a long way on the body acceptance trail, now I want to consolidate that. I don’t want to waste energy worrying about weight loss (through ill health) or any future weight gain. My plan is to divest my identity of it’s link to my size. I will be me wether I am a size 22 or 12. My writing, opinions, talents & interests will remain unchanged. This is the message I hope to drive home.

On the challenging front I want to push myself in healthy ways. Instead of berating myself or being
weighed down by guilt, I plan to make it ok for me to be unable to achieve certain things. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not giving myself permission to stagnate. In fact, the opposite, by stretching myself to try things I worry will be too much, I will perhaps surprise myself. However, if I prove unable, I refuse to beat myself up. With a bit of luck this approach may help me extend my freelance work & possibly even branch off in new directions.

Finally, I aim to have as much fun as possible. I will see friends & family as often as I can. Try new activities, even if they scare me or I am rubbish at them! I don’t want to deny myself anything that will make me happy. Be that expensive shoes, a man, a big cake or a day in bed.

2015 is my year to get living.

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