What holds you back from reaching weight loss goals? Why is it easy to start diet or exercise regimens, yet so hard to maintain them? For me, part of it is because when I got close to where I thought I wanted to be, I looked around and realized that the grass was not as green on the other side as I'd expected. And that can be demoralizing. "I did all of X, Y, Z, and still A and B haven't changed?"

Following the path to happiness through weight loss. Is there any bigger fairy tale fantasy out there?

I bought in to the Fantasy of Being Thin from an early age. It's an idea I'm working hard to let go of, with some difficulty, because no matter how rational or logical I try to be about it, the idea that being thin or losing weight is the solution to all your problems is reinforced left, right, and centre. See, we're sold on the idea that life will begin when. You will be good enough, worthy enough, WHEN. When you lose enough weight. When you are thin enough. When you are strong enough, healthy enough, fit enough. So, weight loss and/or the body becomes the focus, and if that happens, you often tend to put your life on hold. Waiting. Just waiting until.

Weight Stigma is about buying the magic beans. Believing that, if you can just lose enough weight, you'll climb your beanstalk to find whatever it is you're lacking. Happiness, love, acceptance, health, money, fame, revenge. So, you work and you work, and you climb that beanstalk, and all you find is yourself, in the clouds. Without having enjoyed the view on the way up, at all.

It is a pervasive sentiment. And it's not just in the obvious places like media or industries which stand to profit from people feeling bad about themselves. It's, well, everywhere. In fact, years ago when I was in counselling - clearly talking about body image as a direct connection to low (damn near non-existent) self esteem - the therapist suggested that perhaps I would be happier if I lost some weight. Yeah. This happens in real life. The fantasy was reinforced by a professional: the key to accepting yourself is ... to change yourself? "Most healthcare providers and therapists want nothing more than to relieve suffering and enhance the health of our patients.  Both patient and provider may think the obvious solution is to try to leave the stigmatized group and try to lose weight. But participating in the illusion that weight loss is possible, desirable, and the only way to have a good life, is to perpetrate weight stigma." 

The topic of Weight Stigma and Psychotherapy was addressed as part of Weight Stigma Awareness Week. The article called "Surprises when you venture off the eating disorders island" is about how so deeply ingrained the belief is that weight loss leads to happiness, that even well-trained psychotherapists recommend it, despite evidence that such a suggestion (or judgement) has the opposite effect. In other words, the fairy tale is retold; the therapist is selling magic beans.

And, I think, buying in to this fantasy that weight loss is the solution to all of life's problems leads to self-sabotage. I mean, there are lots of reasons that we take ourselves down, when we go against what we think we really want. (It's called cognitive dissonance, and I've written about it before). Maybe it's an esteem or confidence issue, when you really think you're not good enough. But, more often, I think it's because we have internalized a message that is so ubiquitous that it is reinforced and repeated in all areas of our lives: that getting thin is the answer. What happens when you get there, or when it becomes within view, and you all of a sudden realize that it is NOT the answer to all of life's problems? It's only the answer to some health issues.

One of the best pieces I've come across that helps me to combat those kinds of suggestions, one I go back to often, is Kate Harding's post on The Fantasy of Being Thin. It's what I need to remind myself of often. It's even more honest than the generic "love your body, love yourself" message that abounds in marketing campaigns and women's magazines. She lays it on the line: focusing on weight loss as the answer to life's problems (ie: the things we don't like about ourselves) only masks those problems. 
"All of those concrete things you’ve been putting off? Just fucking do them, now, because this IS your life,
happening as we speak. But exhortations like that don’t take into account magical thinking about thinness, which I suspect  is really quite common. Because, you see, the Fantasy of Being Thin is not just about becoming small enough to be perceived as more acceptable. It is about becoming an entirely different person – one with far more courage, confidence, and luck than the fat you has. It’s not just, “When I’m thin, I’ll look good in a bathing suit”; it’s "When I’m thin, I will be the kind of person who struts down the beach in a bikini, making men weep.”
Changing your weight in the hopes of changing your identity? Doesn't work. It's magical thinking at its beanstalk best. Or worst, really.

So, self-acceptance - acknowledging who you REALLY are, and what you REALLY want - is more than body acceptance, even though the two often intersect. And this is a hard pill to swallow. The magic beans of "change your weight, change your identity," where all your hopes are pinned on weight loss, they're much more palatable. Because, when you buy the magic beans, you don't have to examine your true self.

There are some things about me that aren't going to change, no matter what size I am. Losing weight will not make me any better at math. Being thin isn't going to magically make me more creative than I already am. Gaining weight isn't going to make me any less pragmatic, or funny, or caring, or control-freak-ish. The things I like about myself? They exist at every weight. So, too, will the things I don't like about myself. Rather than putting all of my eggs into the "lose weight, feel better" basket, I'm trying to separate out the things that I can change from the things that I can't, and work on getting healthy only for the sake of health. This yellow-brick-road journey is long, but worth it.

A huge part of health and fitness, to me, is working on letting go of the idea that losing weight will somehow change you into someone you're not already, and on accepting who you are right at this moment. Frankly, it's the reason I insist on getting pictures of myself doing active, fun, adventurous things. I still don't love how I look in them, but I need the proof, the reminders, that I summited a mountain, went rock climbing, white water rafted, worked at camp, travelled the world, and I did it while being varying degrees of fat. That comes directly from having read The Fantasy of Being Thin. Not waiting until the end of my weight loss journey for my life to start.

Is something holding YOU back? What Fantasy have you bought into, that thing that you're waiting until, before you feel whole? What's at the top of your imaginary beanstalk? Because, if it's keeping you stuck where you are, it may be time to chop that thing down.

Taking ownership over your own actions and not playing the victim, it's a little bit like throwing away the magic beans, picking up a rake and a hoe, and tending to the garden you have.

The world of Fat Acceptance is pretty small, so something like Weight Stigma Awareness Week goes easily overlooked. But, it started today, and each day posts from bloggers will be published on various topics. Monday is all about stigma in Health Care. Tuesday is related to Psychotherapy. On Wednesday, the sticky issue of weight stigma in schools and kids' programs will be addressed. Thursday's posts will be related to fitness professionals. And on Friday, it's Nutrition Counseling settings.

It's pretty likely that if/when I find the time to write this week, it'll be related to weight stigma, fat shame, or thin privilege. In the meantime, bookmark the link to the Weight Stigma Awareness Week page, which is hosted by the Binge Eating Disorder Association, and check there daily for the live links to blogs and articles. Whether you find yourself nodding in agreement and understanding, or you think it's a load of hooey, it's worth reading some pretty educated, prolific, and opinionated pieces on the topics. Because the first step to fighting stigma is to acknowledge that bias exists and to understand how it affects us all.

Ruh Roh. There's a horrifying monster terrifying kids in the latest Scooby Doo movie: a fat Daphne.

In Scooby Doo! Frankencreepy, the newest movie just released, each member of the gang gets cursed. And Daphne, the supermodel-thin "pretty one" goes from a size 2 to a size 8. She doesn't grow fangs, or tentacles, or get warts in weird places. Her skin doesn't ooze or change colour. Nope. In order to make her transform into the most horrifying thing she can imagine, Warner Brothers made her fat. Size 8.

Should I even bother to point out that the average woman is a size 12 these days? Or that those of us who are truly overweight are fighting like hell to ever SEE a size 8? Or that their version of Daphne going up 4 sizes actually makes her look like a size 26? Setting aside the fact that the animators clearly have no concept of sizes, what seems to be the most problematic is Daphne's reaction to her change. She looks in the mirror and recoils in horror.

Full disclaimer: I haven't seen the movie. It was just released this week. But, in case you think "what's the big deal, it's just a direct-to-DVD kids' release" I can tell you what I know about Scooby Doo movies. They're popular. Insanely so. We are routinely pulling them for our holds list at the library, including from our holiday collection. Kids and parents don't care if they're watching a Christmas or Easter or Hallowe'en-specific version if it's the only one available. We have a lot of copies and versions and still people are hard-pressed to find a Scooby Doo on the shelf when they come in to the library, because they circulate so much. Of the 9 copies of Frankencreepy that the library has, 7 are currently out or on hold. The paperback book version of the movie is on order. It's popular. It's going to be seen.

It's going to be seen by both little girls and little boys. For the girls, it will reinforce that getting fat is just about the worst thing that can happen to you. For the boys, it will reinforce that fat girls are monsters, and that if your worst fear is to become ugly, then it means you'll be fat. Are there really no other ways in which someone could be ugly? Is fat always going to be equated with ugliness?

I was alerted to this specific example of fat shaming via the Dances With Fat blog post, Scooby Dooby Don't. She does a great breakdown of the various issues. An even better analysis is at The Good Men Project. They both point out the problems with the movie itself, and Warner Brothers' response to public outrage. (Outrage which hasn't been overly loud, but it's there in Amazon reviews, and IMDB. People noticed right away, enough that they had to issue a statement).

Not only is Warner Brothers defending the movie and claiming that they are sensitive to obesity and self image, in their statement they actually perpetuate some rather gross gender gaffes. The defense of "but her boyfriend, Fred, doesn't even notice the difference" is meant to be charming and heart-warming. I can see how it may be, if her friends truly see her and not just her appearance. Dances With Fat offers a different interpretation:

"Another great lesson girls, if you want to know if you’re ok – ask a boy. You should always judge yourself by whether or not boys think you’re attractive. If the way you look changes substantially – even instantaneously – you should not be creeped out if that boy says that he didn’t notice.  All that matters is if he thinks you’re pretty. (Boys, girls should base their self-worth on what you think of them!)"

I don't really know what the creators were thinking, but an animated movie like this is not made by a small group of people. It had to then pass through Standards and Practices. That means that a LOT of people saw it and nobody questioned the messages that were being sent by making Daphne a caricature of morbid obesity and calling it Size 8. Nobody thought about the potential impact on their target audience, or the people buying the movie.

“Fat Daphne” is drawn like she’s Violet Beauregarde from Willy Wonka, like she’s puffed up like a balloon. You know, like all of those horribly misshapen size-eight freaks out there in the real world, those social outcasts who are forced to live their lives like… normal women. Like professionals and artists and aunts and sisters and mothers WHO BUY THEIR CHILDREN SCOOBY DOO DVDs. [The creators] said “How can we make Daphne into something truly ugly? How can we make her the opposite of pretty?” And their answer was… let’s make her overweight. Let’s make her look like people’s friends and sisters and moms. Let’s make her look, not like a supermodel, but rather more like a normal girl you’d see on a normal street, and then let’s have her look in a mirror and RECOIL IN HORROR, just to make sure that all the kids watching at home know that being fat makes you into a monster.

This is the sort of example of fat shaming that will get briefly discussed in small circles and then dismissed. The movie will prosper, circulate, and be purchased. It's not going to traumatize kids directly, or scare the pants off of them the way some of the monsters and villains might. No, it will have a much more passive impact. Kids and adults will see it and think little of it, because it's so in line with what we already believe: that fat is bad, and ugly is the same as being overweight, and it doesn't matter anyway as long as your boyfriend doesn't notice and still thinks you're pretty. They'll internalize it. They'll accept it. Because they already see it everywhere else, this movie just reinforces the message.

And that's the most horrifyingly scary plot line of all.