My Reasons For Doing This
Shame, Shame, Shame! The Scarlet Letter of My Obesity
January 28, 2010 @ 08:49 am
- Standing on the playground in grade school and wanting to play, but being told "no - only normal people can play, and you're not."
- The disgust - even anger - in my mother's voice when my newly trimmer father could fit in my jean shorts (that I'd become too fat for) ... "you're father shouldn't be able to fit in your clothes!"
- Trying to exist in a gay community that shuns the obese, listening to countless fat jokes and references not feet from me, and generally invisible at almost any social function.
shame. noun. the painful feeling arising from the consciousness of something dishonorable, improper, ridiculous, etc., done by oneself or another.1Is being obese shameful? Not necessarily. In a non-emotional, purely logical school of thought, the very state of being obese or even just overweight may not be shameful but rather the behaviors surrounding it may be (laziness, gluttony, selfishness). For others it can be a legitimate emotional, psychological or physical issue that needs to be addressed. But none of that matters in the real world. In the real world, we shame our fatties. Because it's fun, because it makes us feel better about ourselves, because it's so damn easy.
According to cultural anthropologist Ruth Benedict, shame is a violation of cultural or social values while guilt feelings arise from violations of one's internal values. ... Similarly, Fossum and Mason say in their book Facing Shame that "While guilt is a painful feeling of regret and responsibility for one's actions, shame is a painful feeling about oneself as a person." 2
Hester Prynne had her Scarlet A ... and though the same cultural mores that put it there kept it there, in today's culture most of our Prynne's need not show off their shame. We need not broadcast to our colleagues that we've cheated on our spouses. We can get sauced in the privacy of our own home. Our parents need not know about the party last night that ended up with six to a bed. Most "shameful" acts our culture might look down upon are easily hidden. But our culture shames the fat, and the fat have no choice but to wear that shame everywhere they go.
And while we can argue the veracity of my thoughts here, the fact is I've internalized this shame. I am ashamed of who I am. I'm not necessarily guilty about anything. My own values (see above) have more to do with doing good than eating well. I can easily scarf down 5 pieces of buttered bread with cheese, cookies, a pint of ice cream, and a bottle of wine in a night and nary bat an eye; then I think of what others will think of me at the party in two days and I'm angry with myself for giving in. I can easily eat a 7-course meal ... until I'm out with colleagues and I eat a salad not because it's good for me, but because of what others might think of me.
Psychiatrist Judith Lewis Herman concludes that "Shame is an acutely self-conscious state in which the self is 'split,' imagining the self in the eyes of the other;2How deep does this run for me? I feel like because of the shame of my obesity, I have nothing to contribute to conversation, to friends, to parties. I start social interactions with the assumption that everyone will wonder who let the fat one in and why is it speaking? I live life with the assumption that neither I nor my accomplishments are all that important or remarkable. I'm a wall flower. I'm anonymous. I don't share anything about my struggles or fears - and I keep this blog secret. My name is easy to find on the Internet, and a Google search would reveal this blog if I weren't anonymous, and I can't stomach the idea of someone I know knowing the things I write here.
And the thing is, most of this is baseless. Am I really uninteresting and unaccomplished? I'm college-educated. I've lived in five states and both New York City and Los Angeles. I work for myself and own two businesses. I read. I follow current events. I'm pretty damn good with this Internet thing. I've traveled to England countless times, Paris, Amsterdam four times, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland four times, and even crazy places like Hungary and Romania four times each, and Cameroon (Africa). Africa! There is nothing uninteresting about traveling to freaking Africa and building a clinic. I'm learning German.
And in my head, all of that is nullified, negated, erased, overshadowed by the fact that I'm obese. It's bunk. And that's fucked up.
Will losing 100 pounds, getting thin, building muscle, wearing a size 32-34 pant and a form-fitting suit change all that? Probably not. Can I even lose 100 pounds without changing all that? Probably not. And that's why I've decided to directly address the emotional issues that have plagued me for so long. I've been told for so long that because I was so fat, nothing I was or did would ever really matter. No one would love me. No one would respect me. The fact of the matter is that simply isn't true. I need to embrace the reality of this life and allow my body to stop shielding me from unreal stresses and lies and false threats and acknowledge that I am someone worth knowing. That I am loved by a wonderful man. That I have accomplished good and interesting and amazing things for only being 26. And by the time I turn 28, I will have accomplished astounding weight loss and be an example of sound fitness.
And I will no longer be ashamed.
References
1) http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/shame
2) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shame