Your body isn't the problem
- Helen King
- Apr 28, 2022
- 4 min read
When was the last time you said something nice to your body?
Or about your body?
During a recent bout of insomnia, I lay in bed beating myself up for the way my body looks. I realised I was in a deep pit of self-loathing about my post-cancer body. And it had to stop.
What the fat?
Your body isn't the problem. Honestly, it is not a problem that needs to be fixed. The problem is fatphobia and weight stigma is so pervasive we've convinced ourselves weight is the issue.
I have started reading medical research about weight and cancer. I am quickly coming to the following conclusions:
- there's a lot they don't know about cancer and what causes it
- until recently there was no evidence or research-based in New Zealand about the relationship between BMI, cancer, and outcomes
- current research shows having a higher BMI is not always associated with a worse outcome ( cancer registers only recently started collecting the weight/ height of people diagnosed with cancer in New Zealand)
- being underweight is associated with worse outcomes, particularly for breast cancer
- the biggest risk factors for getting cancer and having poor outcomes if you live in New Zealand are being Maori, Pacific, living in a low socioeconomic household, and being younger.
In a podcast episode about cancer and weight, The Fat Doctor UK, points out bigger people might have worse outcomes with cancer for a number of reasons. Including, fat people avoid going to the doctor, diagnosis can be delayed because weight loss is prescribed instead of investigating symptoms, there could be factors such as poverty, racism, and lack of access.
Fat and happy
In my early 30s, I did a lot of work on accepting myself as a fat person. I flooded my social media feeds with images of fat people, started buying clothes I felt myself in and stopped letting my weight hold me back from doing anything. I was fit, active, and developed a sense of style that really felt like me.
Then it all changed. I'd struggled with chronic back pain since my mid-twenties. The short story is it all went pear-shaped and I had a massive disc bulge causing compression on my sciatic nerve. Which is just as fun as it sounds. Before I saw a second back surgeon the pain miraculously got better.
"How do you learn to love a body that tried to kill you and is vilified as 'bad' and 'dangerous' because of your extra adipose tissue?"
The surgeon assured me this can happen but I might still like to lose some weight (in my specialist letter he described me as overweight and pleasant woman). I went on the millionth diet of my life and lost a lot of weight.
Finally acceptable
People were nicer to me, I was told how much better I looked, I had more options for clothes, and I felt more attractive.
About seven months before I was diagnosed with breast cancer the weight rapidly came back. I was in burnout, I'd had a frightening experience at work, been through a divorce, and let go of lifelong dreams. All up I put on 15kgs in a very short amount of time. My doctor never raised any concerns for my wellbeing, just the rising number on the scales.
Weight obsessed
When I was going through chemo I told myself I would stop wasting headspace worrying about the size of my body. I had lost my lovely, long thick hair, was down a breast, and my body shape had changed. It dawned on me how much of my life I'd spent dieting, obsessed with my weight, and self-loathing.
I've learned it is much easier said than done to rewire your brain from fatphobia.
I am now the biggest I've ever been. I have one large breast that sags down my chest, a large scar where my right breast was, my right arm is often puffy from lymphedema, I have scars, my body shape is different, I look tired 99% of the time, and I very rarely feel sexy or attractive.
The cancer community is awash with fatphobia. Fatness has become something even scarier than it was before I had breast cancer. My body feels like a failure, not only did it get breast cancer but now it's fat and deformed. It's impossible to love your body when you're constantly told it's the reason you got cancer and could kill you.
Body changes
I'm a 41-year-old cis woman (same age as Kim K) and the idea of being 'sexy in your 40s' doesn't feel like it applies to me. I no longer have an hourglass figure or breasts that add to my shape.
I'm left grappling with, how do you learn to love a body that tried to kill you and is vilified as 'bad' and 'dangerous' because of your extra adipose tissue?
You cannot berate yourself into good health, shaming fat bodies doesn't motivate people to start exercising. My 20-plus years of dieting and weight cycling tell me dieting doesn't work.
Letting go and finding body neutrality
I don't have the answers... yet. What I do know is going on another diet isn't the answer, nor is telling myself I'm fat and gross.
I have lost and put on the same 40kg since I was in my 20s. When I reflected on what was going on in my life at the time I can see putting on weight is a trauma response for me. It's my body's way of protecting itself.
Seeing weight gain as a trauma response rather than a moral failing is the first step for me in healing my relationship with my body. I may never lose the weight but if working on letting go of the trauma helps me stop hating myself that is a much bigger win for me.
Check out Simple Home Designs to get your own self-portrait (see the picture at the top of this post).
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