It's Not About Body Image
or, Why I Accept My Body and Still Want to Lose Weight

by Alana Wingfoot
02/06/2001

I am overweight. Fat, if you prefer. And I need to lose some of this weight.

This opinion is not based on our bizarre social standards that say a woman should take up as little space as possible, nor on the height/weight charts of some business trying to sell me on diet plans or their particular exercise programs. Rather, it is my personal judgement, based on various observations:

• My thighs frequently chafe against each other when I walk.
• I occasionally get joint pains from hauling this extra mass around.
• Pants and leggings don't last more than a year because the friction wears out the crotch.
• My blood pressure, while still in the "normal" range, is significantly higher than it was when I was fifty pounds lighter.

Note that none of these observations have anything to do with what society thinks my appropriate size should be; they're about my personal comfort and health.

I am all for accepting one's body. Even before becoming pregnant and gaining fifty pounds, I was not a skinny person, and that was fine. Even if I unload this fifty pounds, I will not have the body I had pre-Gregory, and that's fine. I am relatively small-chested and relatively large-hipped, and that's very fine (Gregory having proved the value of said large hips, and the small chest having functioned just fine for nursing).

However, I also have a family history of joint problems, circulatory problems, and diabetes, disorders that seem to be exacerbated by excess weight. No, I'm not going to go on a starvation diet or throw myself into a punishing gym routine, but if I want to be reasonably healthy (or just plain alive) in my sixties and beyond, I need to gradually shed some pounds. Just some more exercise, some healthier eating habits, making sweets an occasional indulgence rather than a regular part of the diet, that kind of thing.

So, I'm going to lose weight, for feminist reasons. Got a problem with that?