And Then I Put Some Weight On

TW - body image, food, 90s heroin chic and feeling good (finally) in my body

Nov 25, 2024

Thanks for reading WTF And Other Thoughts (with Em Chadbourne)! This post is public so feel free to share it.

I wrote a spoken poem about (finally) seeing my body in a different light. But I felt it important to address some things before sharing the video, which can be found if you scroll.

This is not me but I wasted much of my life wishing I could look like this

I walk past the bathroom mirror in my towel, water droplets meandering lazily down my skin.

I notice my body is fuller, rounder.

I stop to contemplate myself. I let the towel fall.

There’s no denying it.

If I were to step on a scale (which these days I never do) it would definitely show a higher number than last month. And the month before that.

A Disclaimer

Now before we move on, I must acknowledge that I have been lucky enough to benefit from thin privilege my whole life.

God (or whatever) blessed me with many things.

An able body.
Loving parents.
Being born into a politically safe country where I got a good education and free (yes free) medical care.
The privilege and safety afforded to someone with white skin.

In fact, the only way I could be more privileged is if God had stuck a little willy on me.

And in this unfair lottery of chance, I was also blessed with a small frame and a fast metabolism.

But this doesn’t disqualify me from the cruel games that we’re (mostly women) subjected to by a society intent on weaponising our bodies against us.

The 90s

I, like you, have been told my whole life how I should look.

The 90’s were a brutal time to be coming of age and Kate Moss's haunting words “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels” penetrated into the depths of my young, impressionable psyche.

Heroin chic was a trip for everyone.

Being a ‘small in stature’ person has not protected me from body shaming, yo-yo dieting and being at war with my body. That’s not to say our experiences have been the same, yours and mine. But ever since I can remember, I have raged battles with my physical being.

Challenging the stories that my body is wrong often feels like trying to soak up the ocean with a hand towel. But just like the sea erodes the rock, I too am finally being worn down. Not to a place of submission. But to a point where I’m just too old and too tired to give a f*ck.

Something happens when you hit 40-something as a woman.

People look at you less.

For a while this bothered me but now I see the freedom in it. And the irony. It would seem that the world’s gaze got less interested in me just as I was getting interesting but hey ho, life’s a funny thing!

The other thing that happened when I turned 40 was the sudden and cumulative effect of four decades of gravity. Everything started sagging and it made me think of my Grannie which made me think of osteoporosis which made me find a PT.

Strength training changed my relationship to my body and now, three years later I can honestly say I’m stronger than I’ve ever been in my adult life. I trust my body in a way that was previously unavailable to me because I was so obsessed with shrinking it.

A mashup of all these things have found me where I am today, dripping wet from the shower and staring in the mirror at my body with something akin to awe and appreciation, despite my recent rounding out.

The poem

I wrote a poem about it because I find writing poems is the best way to mark moments that feel significant to me, especially when I consider that they may be transient. After all, my hand towel is tiny and the ocean mighty so I might feel differently tomorrow when my favourite jeans don’t do up.

But today, in this magical moment that I never imagined I’d get to, this is how I feel about putting on a bit of weight.