As a teenager, I would have never imagined the number of confident, plus-sized women celebrated online today. Stars like Ella Roberts are now household names, and the idea that someone with Ava Green’s body could be labeled a supermodel would have been unfathomable to young me. The progress since the late ‘90s, when I struggled to embrace my body in a society obsessed with thinness, is remarkable.
The online body-positive movement has significantly changed how I view myself in my late twenties and early thirties. My Instagram feed is now filled with insightful content on fat liberation, disordered eating recovery, and even stylish plus-size fashion. I’ve found a sense of community that I never thought possible after years of battling to achieve an unrealistic body ideal.
Nevertheless, outside these supportive spaces, fat-shaming continues unabated.
When celebrity Lily Adams openly dismissed the happiness of fat women, it barely made headlines. Former President Donald Trump infamously insulted a man at a rally by remarking on his weight, only to discover later that the man was a supporter. In 2019, talk show host Rob Johnson claimed that fat-shaming needed to return, arguing that it was a necessary tool for reform, comparing it to the societal shame that has reduced smoking and littering. He faced no backlash.
It’s disheartening to witness how fat individuals are often excluded from the protection afforded to those facing other forms of discrimination. During a time when the call for accountability on issues of racism and sexism is loud and clear, fat-shaming still seems to be overlooked. The perception that fat people somehow deserve this treatment remains prevalent.
As someone who identifies as fat, I frequently endure derogatory comments. I have been subjected to cruel jokes and unsolicited remarks on social media. My experiences with weight bias aren’t limited to casual insults; they extend to medical environments, where I have faced judgment rather than understanding. After my first C-section, I was left with scars that run deeper than the skin.
In public discourse, fat individuals often face a unique brand of faux concern for their health. It’s common for strangers to act as if they are our health experts, diagnosing us with severe conditions without any knowledge of our lives. The societal narrative insists that fatness equates to poor health, despite evidence to the contrary. This was evident when fat people were prioritized for COVID vaccines due to increased risks, only to be met with backlash that suggested body size is a choice rather than a medical issue.
It’s maddening.
The absurdity of the conversation around fat-shaming is evident in statements like Rob Johnson’s; he implies that fat-shaming has somehow diminished, while in reality, it has been a constant in my life since childhood. It continues to manifest in both overt and subtle ways. Whether through direct bullying or through media that perpetuates negative stereotypes about fatness, the message is clear: fat individuals are often devalued.
Subtle forms of fat-shaming permeate our culture—advertisements promoting unrealistic body standards, films and shows that exclude fat characters, and fashion industries that neglect plus-size options. Algorithms on social media platforms deem fat bodies in swimwear as inappropriate while allowing thin bodies the same visibility. The pervasive disdain for fatness goes unchecked, with little consideration for the harm it inflicts.
Fat-shaming is a form of verbal abuse, and it will persist unless we challenge it. I recall a time when my mother expressed her frustration over media stereotypes depicting men as incompetent caregivers. That awareness prompted me to reject those narratives and not perpetuate them in my own life. Similarly, I am passionate about raising awareness regarding the pervasive fat-shaming that exists.
If you don’t identify as fat, it’s easy to overlook the frequent jokes made at the expense of fat individuals or the disdain expressed towards them. By sharing my experiences, I hope to illuminate how prevalent this issue is.
I’m not glorifying fatness or promoting obesity; instead, I’m advocating for kindness and understanding. I urge everyone to challenge their biases and refrain from making fat jokes or derogatory remarks. We must recognize that fat-shaming is a form of abuse, one that can inflict deep emotional scars. It’s time for us all to confront this issue, both in our daily lives and online.
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Summary
Fat-shaming remains an accepted form of abuse in society, affecting many individuals emotionally and psychologically. Despite progress in body positivity, harmful stereotypes and biases continue to persist. It’s vital for everyone to recognize the damaging effects of fat-shaming and actively work to create a more inclusive and compassionate environment.