Last December, I stumbled upon a very interesting article on the website Ravishly. The piece, entitled “Being Thin Didn’t Make Me Happy, But Being ‘Fat’ Does,” written by Joni Edelman, caught my attention for pretty obvious reasons. In it, Edelman included two pictures of herself, one with the caption “Before” and one “After.” As you might have guessed, her before picture is of her when she was at a much lower weight at the age of 35. The after picture is of her and her family, five years later when Edelman was at a much higher weight. Edelman goes on to describe the extreme measures she took to achieve her “physical hotness” displayed in the first photo, including counting calories obsessively (limiting her calories to 1000 per day), exercising excessively (running 35 miles per week), and overall living a very restrictive lifestyle.
While Edelman concedes that being at this low weight came with some “benefits” such as being able to fit into size 4 clothing and receiving positive attention from men, she says that the amount of effort, sacrifice and mental energy it took to maintain this weight significantly diminished her happiness. She found that the time and energy it took to keep her figure ended up taking away from her relationships, especially with her children, as she was preoccupied with her food and working out.
Realizing that “happiness does not require thinness” and “fatness does not presume sadness,” Edelman stopped her extreme dieting and exercise behaviors. As one would expect, she gained weight, and with medication changes to treat her bipolar depression, she gained even more weight. Despite this, Edelman wrote that she had found a “stillness, a joy, and a peace” that she had never had and that “it’s worth 10 pounds.” The article ended with Edelman telling her readers to “be fat and happy. Be unapologetically fat. Wear a bikini, and mean it. Eat pizza and ice cream and enjoy it. Drink up your life and a bottle of wine, and make no apologies.” It was a refreshing article and one that I imagine took a great deal of courage for her to write. In our fat-shaming, thin-exulting world, it’s rare to hear someone (especially a woman) talking about being both fat and happy.
A few weeks ago, one of my patients forwarded me another piece written by Edelman. Apparently, Edelman has decided to start writing a bi-weekly column entitled “Beyond Before & After,” (BB&A) where she hopes to discuss “living without dieting, fostering self-love and healthful choices made on our own terms. No scales, no calorie counting, no before, no after. Because we’re so much more than that.” Sounds promising, I initially thought to myself.
In the first installment of BB&A, Edelman talks about her blog from last December. How she received so much praise and attention for writing so bravely about something that many woman would be afraid to do – to call themselves “fat” and be okay with it. But then the article takes a turn. Edelman writes that even though she fully believed that she could be fat and happy, something started to shift. She describes instances in which her body started to fail her, such as not being able to sit on the floor without falling because she was not able to bend due to her stomach getting in the way. How she was tired of feeling breathless after walking up 13 stairs and how her weight was making it nearly impossible to heal an injured ankle. All of a sudden, Edelman writes that being fat “stopped working for [her],” and that she wanted to change this by losing weight, that “if being fat doesn’t work for you, you can change, or you can at least give it your best effort.”
Oh dear. I don’t know where to begin with this. First of all, this piece makes me sad. Here was someone who was fighting the good fight, who really seemed to get it: that weight and health and wellbeing are not inextricably linked. That there are plenty of thin people with health problems and plenty of fat people with none. Interestingly, Edelman talks about how she got her blood work done (in addition to numerous other health tests) and surprisingly enough, her labs were nearly impeccable, with a low thyroid as the sole issue that arose. Other than this (and being diagnosed with peri-menopause), Edelman was in excellent health. But, even with this positive information, Edelman is resolved to change her body.
Okay, time for some full disclosure: part of me understands where she is coming from. I am also living in a larger body and there are times that I think to myself, “you know, your knee pain and plantar fasciitis would likely improve if you lost weight.” Biomechanically, I understand that carrying more weight translates to more stress and strain on my body. But, then my rational mind kicks in and reminds me of several facts: 1) There are plenty of thin people with knee pain and plantar fasciitis (just ask nearly all of my slender tennis teammates) 2) There are numerous ways to address these health conditions without losing weight (just ask my podiatrist and my physical therapist) and, most importantly, 3) Permanent intentional weight loss is impossible for 95-98% of those who try to achieve it. So, even if losing weight did improve my issues, no one has found a way to keep the weight off. In fact, most people end up gaining even more weight than they had lost in the first place, resulting in an even higher weight.
The other issue I want to shed light on is Edelman’s admission that she has struggled with an eating disorder (ED) in the past (namely exercise bulimia). Even if she is not actively engaging in restriction and over-exercise, her weight loss goal is simply ill advised. Recovery from an eating disorder is a life-long process and it is completely at odds with purposefully losing weight. You can’t be in recovery and be actively trying to lose weight. They are incompatible. Even Edelman realizes how tricky her endeavor is going to be, admitting that she has already been weighing herself more than once a day and has been drinking copious amounts of water to help her feel full. I will not be surprised to see her get back into an ED mindset if things continue this way.
Listen, I get it. Being fat can be tough in our society, and it’s easy to blame our physical maladies on our body size. But just deciding that being fat isn’t working for you and that you are going to change your body permanently is at best wishful thinking and at worst a very dangerous endeavor. I hope that Ms. Edelman figures this out before it’s too late.