It’s 2024. I shouldn’t have to explain why it’s never okay to comment on someone’s body. But here we are. Brace yourselves. This topic makes me feel a bit sassy.
Just last week, someone called me tiny, and I responded with catastrophic dumbfoundedness. As someone who has dealt with a restrictive eating disorder for many years, my brain went into overdrive. Am I too thin? Can they tell I have struggled with food? Do I look sick? Is this a compliment? Or a jab? Why are they paying attention to my body at all? Does everyone notice my body? Am I in trouble? Do I say thank you? Do I say nothing? Do I tell them to fuck off? Why am I freaking out?
I guess offhanded body comments aren’t that surprising, considering some people still don’t believe in bodily autonomy, safe gun laws, and fundamental human rights. Common sense doesn’t seem to be universal. I suppose it is necessary, after all, to write about why it is never, ever acceptable to comment on someone’s body. Like ever.
Renee Rapp, who just stared as Regina George in the Mean Girls reboot, has received endless and unnecessary backlash for her body size.
The internet exploded with negative comments, calling this 24-year-old young woman fat. Worse yet, Rapp has openly and vulnerably shared her struggles with an eating disorder. What is this about? Are we, as a collective, filled with so much internalized fatphobia that we can’t let this woman live? Is misogyny so deeply ingrained that we disregard her talent because she isn’t a size double zero? If people think it’s appropriate to call this girl overweight, then we have seriously lost sight of reality.
When I was somewhere around fourteen years old, I began to notice the normalization of body hatred. One weekend, my mom and I stopped at Burger King on our way home from a softball tournament. After eating our combo meals, my mom grabbed her distended stomach and called herself disgusting. This confused me because, at the time, I was both taller and heavier than she was. Her bodily commentary led my adolescent brain to create a story in my head that said: if she thinks her body is disgustingly large, then I must be a whale.
One of the first jobs I ever had, between the ages of 19 and 21, was at a gym. Exercise was not a part of my life, but because I had an eating disorder, the size of my body fit the role. What I remember most about that job was the nonstop praise and envy I received for being thin. Everyone, staff included, thought it was their business to comment on the size of my body. What they didn’t realize is that they were, quite literally, feeding my eating disorder. Calling someone tiny is just as harmful as calling someone fat.
A few months ago, at my current job, one of the managers said he was motivating my coworkers to lift weights by teaching them to be fatphobic. As you can imagine, I looked at him in horror and blurted out, “Oh, so you’re proud to be fatphobic?!” He backtracked and tried to right his wrong. But my utter disgust still stands.
Furthermore, there are countless examples of medical professionals denying overweight folks proper care. Instead of finding the root cause of illness, doctors often prescribe weight loss and disordered eating as a cure-all elixir. This podcast episode shares the story of a woman whose cancer went undiagnosed for years because her doctor refused to put his fatphobia aside and dig deeper than the size of her body.
Sometimes, I also wonder if God has issues with body size. Gluttony, one of the seven deadly sins, teaches us that overindulgence is a hellbound-worthy offense. Even God equates thinness with goodness and holiness. Even God uses judgmental, fatphobic rhetoric. Sorry (not sorry), but that’s not a God I want to be morally aligned with.
I could go on and on. The examples of this shit are endless. Whether it be pop, family, gym, work, medical, or religious culture, the idea that it’s okay to comment on and patrol other people’s bodies is omnipresent. No one gets out unscathed.
So, because our society lacks progressive discourse around bodies, here are five reasons to never, ever comment on the size of someone’s body. Like ever.
The size of someone’s body is none of your business.
Commenting feeds eating disorders
Commenting is ignorant, tone-deaf, and fatphobic
No one asked for your feedback
Body size is, by far, the least interesting thing about a person
The older I get, the more I believe that our issues with food and body are generational. I believe growing up in a patriarchal, misogynistic society means bodies (especially women’s bodies) are automatically under attack. I believe my mom subconsciously did the best she could to pass down ideas and rituals that kept her body safe in an unsafe world.
The truth is our bodies are the containers that hold our magic. Bodies are the sacred vessels that carry us through life. All bodies, regardless of size, deserve to be treated with kindness and respect. Maybe if I grew up in a society that wasn’t steeped in misinformation and exploitative wellness culture, things would be different.
It has been several days since I received that unwanted comment about my body. At first, my catastrophic response felt excessive. But now, it feels like a sign of progress. Instead of assuming it to be a compliment, I felt its toxicity in my bones. I even rebelled against it by eating extra Girl Scout cookies rather than allowing it to exacerbate my smallness.
It’s 2024. Let’s do better. The next time you feel compelled to comment on someone’s body, please refrain and remember that it is never, ever okay to do so. Like ever.
Progress.