The Constant Struggle of Cuteness
I feel like, this morning, I need to talk about body image. Body image, and the constant barrage of conflicting messages around body image that I, as a midsize woman, receive and dissect every day.
First of all: midsize. Was this even a term five years ago? As “plus size” has become more ubiquitous and more accepted in the past decade, “fat” has been reclaimed, and “curvy” is suddenly more of a feeling than a descriptor, the terms I used to identify with as a teenager now, somehow, no longer apply to me anymore. I’m not sure what happened in the past decade; in high school I distinctly remember almost always being the largest woman in the room. Since then, whether it’s due to perception, self-confidence, age, awareness, or just... overall changes in the population, I now find myself distinctly in the middle.
Note: I’ve been a size 12-16 my entire post-adolescent life. For one brief stint after college I could fit into a size 10. But before and since, 14 has been the mainstay numeral in my wardrobe. My steady friend and most accurate guesstimate across brands as to what my body may fit.
14, despite being the most (so I’m told) “common” size amongst women, was for many years infamous for being the most left-out, in-between size in clothing stores. In juniors’ stores (marketed toward teens: your Charlotte Russe’s and Forever 21′s), 14 would translate to the non-existent XXL: with “XL” usually falling in the “12″ range. In Plus Size or Women’s stores, 14 is a 0X; 1X is most commonly measured around a “16″ size.
About 5 years ago I found a fashion youtuber who made a video decrying the variation of a size 12 across different brands. And I’ll agree: sizes vary a lot from brand to brand, despite there being a base similarity in most big brand stores. She, like me, found herself living in this dreaded size 12-14 fashion purgatory, this no-womans-land of sizes. And even here! The numbers can’t be trusted!
She called herself “midsize”. She looked a lot like me. And at last, I had a label I could consistently search and see body types that I could identify with. From what I can tell, midsize is the chosen moniker for fashion influencers sizes 8-16, with of course, varying body shapes and compositions. For example, many of the folks I follow on instagram that claim “midsize” wear a VERY different bra size from me- so to find “fashion inspiration” I can actually act upon from midsize influencers, I also have to bring in a few accounts that allow for more top-heavy-friendly designs.
Despite all of the overwhelming positivity and diversity now available to me as a midsize woman (for example, almost all plus-size brands now start at a size 10-12 (00X-0X), and most “regular” retail brands now extend to a XXL), I can’t help but go back to my first observation: I’m no longer the largest woman in the room. While I don’t consider myself particularly unhealthy, I also know I’m not passing any presidential fitness tests any time soon. I find it difficult to run for extended periods of time. My joint strength isn’t nearly what it should be to support my weight. While muscular, I have a lot of extraneous body fat that adds strain to my daily life, and all my body’s systems: skeletal, endocrine, muscular, cardiovascular. This isn’t good. I’ve worked for years to try to find ways to get stronger, lose weight, and improve my overall health- in fact, the difficulty I faced when trying to lose weight was what led me to discover that I have PCOS and a few hormonal hurdles to maintaining a healthy body weight.
But when I try to research how best to approach health and weight loss with PCOS, the studies are few and far between- and when available are fairly inconclusive and far from thorough. I’m left to follow MORE accounts of personal success stories, all of which are biased toward one product or another, one lifestyle brand or book tour, all of which are antithetical to every other product, book, or brand I’ve seen before.
On the one hand, I’m grateful to see more body types represented in the media. It IS helpful to my self-esteem to normalize the bodies of women both my size and larger than me (even if there’s still a prevalence of too-smooth skin and too-round belly buttons). But I also worry about how we tend to conflate feeling good about ourselves to being healthy. They aren’t the same. And we’re letting commercial forces tell us that it’s okay to be unhealthy even when attempting to BE healthy: mentally or physically.
Time to come clean here: for the past year, I’ve been experimenting on and off with a carnivore lifestyle, which, OBVIOUSLY, many people assume is super unhealthy, much like the stigma around Atkins in the early 2000′s. Honestly, it feels a lot like Atkins did back in the day: lots of bacon, burgers, steak, and eggs. Quite literally “zero-carb”, as opposed to just “low-carb”. While low-carb isn’t really new anymore, and many people can see carnivore as a logical step past the surprisingly universally accepted ketogenic diet, I was amazed to discover just how much the “science” of the trendier diets of the past decade (paleo, keto, whole-30) don’t match up to the scientific, accepted nutritional advice of the actual medical community.
Last year I started going to a weight-loss clinic at the behest of my OB-GYN in an attempt to get my PCOS and weight “under control”. I’m gonna spoil most of the rest of this rant by saying this was a pretty dumb idea for someone like me. This clinic was created around those with extreme weight issues, for whom psychological care and bariatric surgery are the most “effective” forms of treatment (again, according to the health care system that seems determined to sell it, but I’ll talk more about THAT another time). The nutritionist I met with gave me the same spiel I’d read time and time again from every weight-loss specialist book I’d bought, despite me relaying to her my decades-long struggle with traditional diets and fat-loss strategies. A ketogenic diet was never recommended to me, nor any kind of actual dietary changes to help with hormone balance/control: I was prescribed metformin (a drug for insulin resistance most commonly prescribed to type 2 diabetics) and told to eat a low-fat, high-fiber diet.
I didn’t lose any weight. My periods didn’t regulate. I just stopped gaining weight as fast... although I did eventually gain back the 12 pounds I’d lost from my first 2 months on carnivore.
The truth is, that treatment plan, that clinic... it doesn’t exist for someone who is trying to change their body chemistry. It might work for folks that are so obese that literally ANY form of mindful eating will help them lose 200 pounds. But let’s be real: if I lost 200 pounds, I’d weigh 6 pounds. I’m a tall, muscular woman with some fat that has tried all the recommended diets for fat loss. Through them all, I fight cravings and energy loss, mood swings, and all the symptoms that come with PCOS. The ONLY thing I’ve found in the past 10 years that actually helps with my PCOS?
Regular exercise, stress management, and a carnivore diet.
I’ll also point out that when I DID lose a considerable amount of weight after college (due to what I think was a combination of 1. getting enough sleep for once, 2. intermittent fasting, and 3. regular hiking), it was also easier for me to maintain my weight and many of my PCOS symptoms went away. It wasn’t until I switched to a HORMONAL BIRTH CONTROL method that I then gained back all of the weight I lost (and then some) and once again began fighting uncontrolled PCOS symptoms. They compounded on each other, and made it harder and harder to get back to any kind of “normal”.
So, I’m back on carnivore. In addition to more stable energy, noticeable reduction of PCOS symptoms, and slight weight loss, I also just... hurt a lot less on carnivore. Along this journey I’ve finally realized that I do in fact have a chronic pain problem. Whether it’s due to chronic inflammation, past injuries, or food sensitivities, I’m not really sure: but I know when I eat carnivore, my chronic pain all but goes away. Recently, I’ve been recovering from a back injury, so there was of course some pain associated with that (as well as a break from regular exercise, which I plan to get back to once I’m cleared by my chiropractor), but the daily body aches, numbness, and discomfort?
Gone.
I’ve got regular periods when I eat this way- like, ACTUALLY one a month like I’m supposed to have. My facial hair growth slows down, even thins out. My focus improves. I sleep better, and actually follow a normal circadian rhythm. What’s total bananas is that I’m not the only one who experiences this: MANY folks who’ve tried this way of eating report daily quality of life improvements.
I’m not going to say everyone should eat this way; I’m not even going to suggest that everyone with PCOS should eat this way. But I WOULD love to see some actual RESEARCH done on this way of eating- or even better research on a ketogenic diet! I’m so frustrated by the lack of medical research on nutrition, and in particular the lack of action to curb the universally-accepted-to-be-unhealthy nutrition standards in America. While I won’t say it’s hard to eat carnivore (cause like, all diets are hard), I have noticed over the years that NO ONE IN OUR COUNTRY IS HEALTHY anymore- except for those whose JOB it is to be healthy. And this isn’t a coincidence!! Almost all cultures that have adopted American corporatized food structures are chronically unhealthy, and much, much more fat than they used to be.
I agree that being fat isn’t always a personal failing, and I’m so, SO glad that more and more figures in our media diets are representing the diverse catalogue of body shapes and sizes reflected in our world. I’m happy that my future daughter won’t be fat-shamed the same way I was as a little girl, and that she likely won’t be told (like I was) that she’s too fat to be what she wants to be when she grows up, despite not actually being all that fat.
BUT. Fat representation is not the hill I want to literally die on. I’m not willing to throw my health, my comfort, my ability to be active, away for my “right” to eat ice cream every day. I’m sick of being marketed to constantly as a garbage disposal. I’m not just here to eat and diet and wear clothes.
I’m here to LIVE. I’m here to plant gardens and make art and take walks and enjoy the seasons. And I can’t do a lot of those things if I’m constantly sick and in pain. And it’s way harder to enjoy not being sick and not being in pain when all we know to do as a society when spending time together is... eat food.
What frustrates me is, I think so much of this really comes down to marketing, corporate profit-mongering, and the way our political system is set up to make laws for companies instead of people. I think capitalism is making us fat and unhealthy, to sell us sugar and diets and medicine and surgeries in an endless cycle of crap. I don’t really have much more to say on that, I don’t have sources, except like... well, look around you. Look at the system we have. Look at what we’re told to do to escape it. And look at how many forces are there to take us right back to the beginning of the roller coaster when we have a little success.
Side note/conspiracy theory time: I actually think liposuction might be a more safe and effective (literally EFFECTIVE not just safe) form of “weight loss surgery” in helping folks with actual, permanent weight loss. Hear me out: while I will fully admit I can’t remember where I read any of this (as I’ve read so many scores of information regarding health and weight loss over my lifetime), I seem to remember body fat working something like this: it’s really easy for your body to make new fat cells, but very difficult for your body to destroy them. So, when you gain fat, it first occurs by your body filling your fat cells with fat, until they can’t hold anymore, and then your body makes new fat cells, which makes it easier for your body to hold onto said fat. The best way to “reset” your body’s fat threshold is to literally destroy or remove the fat cells. And, I assume, if you adopt more healthy habits AFTER having liposuction, your body would be less likely to create more fat cells than it was when you lived an unhealthy lifestyle.
Bariatric surgery is incredibly invasive and dangerous, and almost always ends up reversed by bad habits and your body’s natural ability to STORE FAT AND STRETCH YOUR STOMACH. It’s a temporary solution, and often proves to be ineffective in the long term, and leads to many unfortunate complications over time, not to mention the recovery from that surgery is LONG and TOUGH.
But liposuction (the most COMMON FORM OF PLASTIC SURGERY, I’ll add), is the only “weight loss” procedure (despite not being labeled as such- it’s “cosmetic surgery” even though it most definitely WOULD result in weight loss, right?) that actually removes fat from your body. Literally takes the fat cells away so your body can’t fill them up again, without once again needing to create more.
But bariatric surgery is covered by insurance, and liposuction isn’t... despite the fact that removing weight and fat from the body would be a more instant and potentially effective cure for obesity and its underlying symptoms, and being a simpler procedure overall, as well as extremely common.
So like... why is being fat something poor people are forced to endure dangerous surgery and super long recoveries and lifetime habit changes to overcome, but rich people just get to have their fat vacuumed away? Sounds sus to me.