It’s time we talked about diet culture. You’ll see that phrase a lot here, just as you will if you frequent any spaces that promote fat acceptance, Health at Every Size, or genuine body positivity. The concept seems quite straightforward: it is a societal belief system, playing off of everyone’s insecurities, that pushes the idea that thinness is the ideal, that thinness is equal to both health and the moral high ground, and oppresses those who don’t fit this belief system, either in their physical appearance or their efforts to change it. It’s all fairly concise. The real problem, I believe, is that it slips under the radar simply because it is so accepted and so ingrained. Why would people notice all this diet talk when diet talk is such a normal part of life? Until an active shift is taken mentally to acknowledge this stuff as harmful, it all seems very mundane, very average, and very non-threatening.
But despite being the most harmful for people living in large bodies, fat people, it is actually quite harmful for anyone. To make it more tangible for my non-fatties out there, there is a looming threat over your head that even if you are acceptable now, you better make damn sure you stay that way, lest you be treated like the rest of us. So I’m going to walk you through life from my side of things. But not from my side as a person in a larger body. I’m going to walk you through life as a person who has decided to reject diet culture and remove myself from it. A person who will not engage anymore.
It starts with small stuff. I drink skim milk. Always have, always will. I can’t even stand one percent at this point. It’s not about health, weight, or anything else. I just genuinely love what I often hear called “water-milk” by my two percent drinking friends. But as I go to pick up my skim milk, I see a mother and daughter discussing why they should only drink skim milk to avoid the fat in anything else. Seems innocent enough, right? I go to get some ice cream bars.
I like mini magnums. I obviously like the regular sized ones, too, but in the winter they feel a bit unnecessary for me personally. While I go to grab it, someone off-handedly points out that I can get a bigger ice cream bar with the same calorie count if I get a different one. Now. If you’ve ever had a magnum bar you know that this simply won’t do. I shrug it off and walk away, mini magnum ice cream bars still in my cart. I gather the rest of my groceries, and get in line to check out. I glance over at the magazines and candy, knowing what I’ll see. A combination of recipes, diet advice, scare tactics about specific foods, and of course, a keto handbook. I look away again; for perhaps the only time in my life, I’d prefer to read about the latest headlines about the royal family.
Later that day, I’m playing around on my phone. My dating app profile has a statement saying that if you’re not prepared to fight diet culture with me or support my efforts, you probably shouldn’t talk to me. I always hope that putting it out there will make a difference. It doesn’t. I check my notifications. A new intro.
“Hey, I’m (name redacted)! 🙂 I despise the diet/fitness lifestyle industry, but I do feel better physically when I don’t eat any carbs or dairy.”
I point out why that comes off as a red flag for me, and tell him I’m still happy to discuss it further. His response:
“The ketogenic diet. No grains, no sugar, no dairy, and only the carbs found in green leafy vegetables and almonds/other nuts like macadamia. It definitely limits what I can get pretty much anywhere I go out to eat.”
I kindly explain that I don’t think we will see eye to eye. I explain that restriction doesn’t work for me personally, and I don’t like to be around non-medically necessary dietary restriction. He says he isn’t restricting—he can eat as much as he wants. I say I don’t imagine myself enjoying going out to dinner with someone in his situation who is so limited in his options by choice instead of necessity. He backtracks. “Oh, it’s not limiting at all!” and goes on to explain why the keto diet is effective because it prepares us to be ready for multi-day hunting or for the lack of access to food.
I tell him most people in Southern California don’t go on multi-day hunts. I tell him I hope I never lose access to food, and that these are things that aren’t relevant for me. I receive a wall of text explaining the science behind keto to me, at which point I just tell him I’m done with the conversation and delete him. This whole situation is reminiscent of the one who tried to convince me that he used intermittent fasting to go against the diet industry. “It’s not that bad,” he said, “it’s basically just choosing not to listen to society telling me when to eat.” I suppose he didn’t realize that he’s simply switched to letting society dictate when he shouldn’t eat.
People on diets love to say, “it’s not that bad.”
I go to bed late that night, happily having eaten a mini magnum bar at 11pm.
The next day, I think about making cucumber water. I absolutely adore cucumber water. It reminds me of going to a spa. But I’m not sure how much cucumber goes in the water, and I’m not sure how long it lasts in the fridge. Time to check google. Every recipe I click on tells me that it is a great replacement for soda, a great way to detox or fast, and of course, a great way to boost weight loss. I stop looking.
I decide to check my voicemail. I have one from the rowing gym I gave my info to at a pride event. I have been ignoring their calls for a few months now. The first time they called they asked if I wanted to sign up to get started on getting a workout that would target “that pesky fat”. I didn’t. It’s like this whenever I consider going to a gym. They come at you with weight loss. I don’t want weight loss. I just want to improve my lung capacity and build some muscle. For the third time this year, I change my mind about joining a gym. I’ll stick to doing yoga in my living room and going for walks.
Time for some facebook. I check out my groups. I see that there are some new posts in my rave group. Someone has recently seen Game Changers on Netflix, and has lost pound after pound by switching to a plant-based diet. They don’t just share this, but they actually post a photo of their scale display. The comments are full of people talking about how they need to try this, how they have a gut to lose, how they wish they had the dedication to be like that. I’ve stopped counting how often there are posts like that in the group. I’ve already left one music-related facebook group because of all the posts like that. Starting to think about leaving another one of the two that are left. In the one that is aimed at larger women for body positivity and is meant at being inclusive, a girl posts a link to a clothing company that runs only to a size Large. She’s so excited she can finally fit into their stuff.
I’m exhausted. Truly and utterly exhausted. These things show up everywhere. I’d be hard pressed to identify situations where they don’t come up. Diet culture is literally the dark cloud that follows me, and all of us, everywhere we go. It follows all of us, and we forget it’s there to such an extent that we mistake this dark cloud for the sun and worship it.
Balance Without Scales 