Stop Complimenting Me on My Weightloss When I'm Sick
"Stop Complimenting Me on My Weightloss When I'm the Sickest I've Ever Been"
Image Source: Melissa Suffield
For the last four months, I've felt the worst I've ever felt in my entire life. I wouldn't wish the way I feel and everything that goes along with it, on my worst enemy.
And yet, I've been applauded, complimented. Because our obsession with weight loss isn't going anywhere, folks.
Shortly before Christmas 2023, I came down with what felt like a very mild, run-of-the mill stomach bug. And I've had daily, debilitating nausea ever since.
The effect it's had on me has been like nothing I've ever experienced. The toll it has taken on my physical health has been a shock — headaches , fatigue, weakness, sleep. My mental health has taken a nosedive, afraid to venture too far from home in case I suddenly become too ill to make it back, constantly researching what could be causing this as yet unexplained and undiagnosed condition, and restricting my diet down to just a few safe foods in tiny quantities, because I'm too scared to stray from them when the nausea is so unpredictable. The financial hit has been significant, between prescriptions and appointments, expensive dietary requirements, supplements and alternative therapies to alleviate some of the feeling. And on top of it all, feeling completely alone, like I'm letting everyone down, and like I'll never feel better again.
And yet a comment on Instagram will pop up, with all the very best of intentions. "Girl, have you lost weight? You look absolutely amazing!!!"
"Skinny Minnie, omg how did you do it lololol"
"Whatever you're doing to lose that weight, you need to bottle it and sell it haha, I'd buy it"
And I feel like screaming at them. It's triggering, in a way that I didn't think it would be. Because feeling like this is not worth it. To paraphrase the supposed Kate Moss quote, this is not worth the way that 'skinny' feels.
Our collective obsession with skinny has made a pretty sharp comeback with the reintroduction of Y2K fashions, the rise of weight loss drug Ozempic, and plus sizes becoming less and less visible in campaigns and when shopping in-store. Body positivity and fat bodies have been replaced with smaller and smaller women speaking as the voices of a movement not created for them, without paying homage or championing the women who made it possible in the first place.
As a society, thinness is a goal that we are all encouraged to achieve. We're told it's health, but I fear we've been hoodwinked. Because I was a hell of a lot healthier before I lost this weight. In actual fact, we value the appearance of health over the genuine article.
We all see the January gym adverts, the buff guy and the slim, toned female, encouraging you to work on your health goals in the new year. We equate those bodies with health without even questioning it. But how do we know that they're healthy at all? What about their mental health? How's their relationship with food or exercise? Do they drink or take drugs? Are they dealing with a chronic illness behind that perfect smile?
We have been conditioned to take health at face value, on appearance, and to hold that in high regard over everything else. Shift the pounds. Drop a dress size.
The size 22 girl who runs marathons is still told to lose weight, or mocked for her size. And I, the size 12 who has never felt worse is being asked for weightloss tips and told how healthy she looks.
We always go into congratulatory mode when someone has lost weight. We tend to mention it in small talk: "Have you lost weight? You look great!" Or perhaps they mention it, and we say "Oh well done you!" But it rarely goes unmentioned. However, I know I'm not the only one who finds it triggering. I had countless conversations with people who felt the same as me on my Instagram, who had lost weight due to grief, postnatal depression, secret eating disorders, stress, and chronic illness. One lady whose baby was tragically born sleeping was congratulated on "getting her pre-baby body back" by her doctor, of all people.
My own doctor has toed a similar line with me. He's not at all concerned by how much weight I've lost because apparently I "had it to lose". He wasn't concerned about the fact that I'd missed a period because of how little I'd been eating and told me to come back when I'd missed three. He tried to prescribe me an antidepressant because my BMI (ugh) and blood pressure were fine so it couldn't possibly be a physical issue. Whereas when I was slightly overweight before, the first thing they'd tell me would be to lose weight, regardless of whatever I went in for.
I'm still searching for my answer, but one thing I know for certain is that we have got to stop commenting on other peoples bodies. Whether we're being horrible, or complimentary, it's safest to just keep quiet. It's not your business. It's nobody's business but theirs, and you never know what is going on behind the scenes.
Melissa Suffield is a freelance writer, public speaker and content creator, specialising in body confidence, parenting and fashion/lingerie.
