This was interesting:
http://www.poundy.com/2007/07/18/yes-im-speaking-at-blogher/
Not like people who do Weight Watchers are actually like that, ever, but still.
Then again, even when I was doing that program I still had things to say about the way our popular culture regards fat women and about the way we appear in magazines and in the eyes of self-entitled douchebags who didn’t like the Dove ads, so maybe I didn’t have all my brain cells completely replaced by POINTS™.
Though it’s also it’s worth noting that the person who took issue with my place on the panel put the question in such a way that almost suggests that by being “smart, witty and clever,” my weight-watcherness was even more problematic, because God forbid anyone associate That Program with anything other than mandatory self-hatred.
And after the snip:
I gained back the forty pounds that I lost on Weight Watchers in 2001-2002, and all this evidence that most diets fail after five years sounds pretty intriguing to me these days. Intriguing and, um, true.
But I’ve also gradually lost thirty pounds since October from being more active and eating more vegetarian/vegan. It’s true I don’t write about the body stuff as much as I used to, and part of the reason is that I’m simply doing more offline writing than blogging these days, but it’s also because after more than five years of writing online about this, I’ve gotten weary of doing this elaborate dance. You know, where you feel like anything you say about changing your eating habits must be prefaced by the statement that you’re doing it to be healthy and not just a shallow dipshit, and that you’re focused but not obsessed, and that every time you happen to mention pushing yourself a little harder than usual during a workout you must issue the disclaimer that, yes, you like it, and yes, it feels good, and no, you really do not need to just give yourself a big hug right now.
I sympathize.
I love being athletic. I love going for long bike rides. I love lifting weights. I love doing pull-ups. I even love climbing on the treadmill for a couple Law & Order episodes. It feels fantastic, both while I’m exercising and after I’ve been maintaining an exercise routine for a few months. I also enjoy eating healthy food, and it’s been habitual for so long that other diets are unpalatable.
But I would be lying if I said that I only cared about the health benefits. I really like being thin and muscular, and I like the attention I get in return. I also enjoy being athletic because it allows me to feel smug and superior.
And, of course, I have a deeply unhealthy attitude towards my body and my weight. I am constitutionally incapable of not caring about my appearance or my body, and similarly incapable of not locating a large part of my self-esteem and happiness in same. This is slowly repairing itself, and–a shallow solution but a solution nonetheless–I’m working towards a body that involves less athleticism. For what is probably the first time in my life, I’m actually trying to pack on a little chub, because that’s what breasts and hip curves are made of. I also had a motive for pulling back on the weight-lifting that didn’t challenge my level of fixation on my body: I wanted the muscles to get smaller. But even given those incentives, it’s a difficult process for me. And even now, I could probably slide into unhealthy habits given enough stress and isolation and too few distractions.
So I’ll be the first to admit that I have no perspective on the potential problems with weight-loss formulae like Wendy’s. I’ve done far worse things to myself, and am still skewed towards obsession.
That having been said, I think that her words here are well-chosen.
I don’t think it’s possible for most people to embark on a weight-loss program (or one that involves healthy eating and active living with the side effect of weight loss) with the sole motive of health. It’s not universal, but people frequently do change shape somewhat when they start taking spin classes or walking to work. Sometimes it’s temporary and quick; sometimes it’s gradual and a little more lasting. Regardless, in my experience and in most accounts I’ve heard, the payoff is immediate and enormous. Everyone gives you compliments and attention, from complete strangers to family members. People you didn’t even know hated your body tell you how fantastic you look now. This is true even for people who weren’t particularly large; fifteen fewer pounds and you’re a movie star. Sometimes even just the knowledge that someone is trying some sort of exercise/diet routine will bring on the shower of social approval.
Of course, that doesn’t mean that this is something feminists and size-acceptance activists should take for granted. It’s ridiculous that an unhealthy, emaciating diet is more acceptable than a healthy diet that doesn’t drop pounds. It’s doubly ridiculous that we see shaming as a public-health measure at all, especially given the sheer number of people who have been turned into their bodies’ worst enemies via social obsession with pudge. And it’s true that thin-privilege is the other side of fatphobia, and that the carrot is just as pernicious as the stick.
And like I said, I’m not terribly objective here.
But I think that Wendy is making healthy choices for herself, and even her tenure on Weight Watchers doesn’t strike me as bad for her. It was a diet, and it was a diet that hired a fatbashing organization, and it was a diet that didn’t work, but it wasn’t undertaken in the belief that she was worthless if she didn’t lose the weight. She doesn’t remind me of me, in other words. I appreciate her honesty.