By Kacey Clark

Something that I had to come to terms with as I healed from my eating disorder was to confront why I was scared to death of the idea of having body fat and taking up space. There is so much fear surrounding fat. Having body fat, gaining body fat, or being in a fat body are seen as signs of moral failure and serves as an indicator of a lack of self-respect in our body-obsessed society. Even the word “fat” is wielded with a negative connotation so that “fat,” a once neutral descriptor of size, is now an insult. However, it’s time to unpack the meaning of this word. 

Fatphobia is the fear, stigmatization, and pathologization of fat bodies, a fear that often goes unnoticed and unchecked because it is ingrained in our societal values and beliefs. Fatphobia (aka fat phobia) is not intrinsic to our human psyche. It is a cultural, systemic phenomenon that is deeply rooted in sexism, racism, and a long history of body policing that dates back to the Renaissance.

Sociologist Dr. Sabrina Strings Ph.D reveals the interconnection of these issues in her book: Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia. In her groundbreaking research, Strings performed a reverse genealogy to analyze origins and evolution of fatphobia, and this has sparked a conversation about the legitimacy of fatphobia.  Critics of the term reaffirm the validity of a fear of fatness, and claim that “nothing is more like phobia than being afraid to name reality.” The problem with this criticism is that it fails to critique the systemic foundation of fatphobia and instead, continues to build on it. While it is a reality that there are different shapes and sizes of bodies, this truth isn’t in question. We must address the systemically oppressive underpinnings of fatphobia and the ways in which it is compounded and intersected by different marginalized identities. For a deeper understanding, Springs calls for us to explore the underlying systems of control and power that racism and sexism uphold.

Fatphobia is Rooted in Sexism

Health has nothing to do with it, at least not entirely. Body size is about aesthetics and fulfilling unrealistic beauty standards more than it is about health concerns. According to Strings, “thinness has been a mainstream archetype in the US since at least the early 19th century. That precedes the medical establishment’s concerns about excess weight by nearly 100 years. It shows that slimness—while today associated with medical concerns around fat—was not primarily, historically, about health.” 

But what is it about thinness that makes it the ideal aesthetic for women in a way that it isn’t for men?

First, Springs notes that thinness is seen as desirable because it is seen as a form of self-control that reaffirms the traditional belief that women ought to be controlled and temperate in order to be valued. Within this paradigm, thinness equates “being under control” not just physically but socio-politically as well. During the Second Great  Awakening of the early 19th century, American Protestant concerns around morality were intensified. You were closer to evil (bad) if you indulgenced in things such as food or sex–traits seen as gluttonous or perverse sins. Women, who were expected to serve as a beacon of moral behavior and righteousness, were considered  controllable and submissive. Also, their innate wants and needs were labelled as temptation and sin rather than natural human drives. As a result, “Sexism plays an important role here, because women’s bodies are treated as public property by society.” This is exactly what fatphobia hopes to accomplish: censorship and manipulation of women’s bodies in a society where women are controlled at the expense of their own autonomy.

In addition, sexism plays into fatphobia by upholding the spatial inferiority of women’s bodies as opposed to men’s bodies. Patriarchy is alive and well and has been for centuries. And although it’s less accepted as a universal truth and not as entrenched in our systems, it continues to infiltrate every aspect of society so that there are few spaces in which women see themselves equally represented, or represented at all. This lack of representation occurs for the same reason that fatphobia occurs: to diminish the space women take up in society. Thinness has become the ideal aesthetic for women because it helps us to shrink and fade into the background of socio-economic and political systems we are constantly challenged by . 

It’s not bad to desire weight loss or to subscribe to the cultural ideal of thinness. It makes sense to give into ideas we’ve internalized at such young ages and to believe that being thin will allow us the right to feel beautiful, desirable, and even loved. However, to act on this flawed ideology and to accept this false standard as scientific reality is to completely disregard the science that debunks the health concerns surrounding fatness. 

Sexism is just a piece of the puzzle.

Fatphobia is Rooted in Racism

According to Springs, beginning in the Renaissance, the Enlightenment thinkers in Western European societies observed differences among body types across varying cultures. They noted women in African societies were larger-bodied compared to the smaller-bodied women of Europe. However, they attributed differences in body type to cultural values and practices rather than genetics, making reference to the inherent inferiority of Black people. This line of thinking continued into the 18th  century when colonies were established and slavery became a booming industry. Strings states, “What I found in my research is that in the West, it’s actually rooted in the transatlantic slave trade and Protestantism. In the transatlantic slave trade, colonists and race scientists suggested that Black people were sensuous and thus prone to sexual and oral excesses.” Thinness became a symbol of white purity and cleanliness that separated White Anglo-Saxon Protestants (WASPs) from Black people, often characterizing them as an immoral, sinful population. These racist prejudices have evolved into health scares and concerns. Concerns that reputable science has proven are not well-founded.

Sexism and Racism: Products of Colonization, Capitalism, and Imperialism

The “war on obesity” is an effort to demonize and pathologize bodies, specifically labeling those of white women and people of color as unhealthy and unproductive.  In reality, you can have health at every size. In addition, the thin ideal has contributed greatly to the success of the diet and “health and wellness” industries.  Other industries, such as the media, medicine, and fashion profit from this objectification that devalues any body that is not thin. The diet industry is a $72 billion dollar industry for a reason. It reinforces the oppression of women and profits from people who are willing to pay any price to reach unattainable beauty standards.

What is so empowering about subscribing to a belief system that capitalizes on our vulnerability? One that controls women’s bodies and discourages them from taking up space physically and politically? One that demonizes the bodies of women of color and colonizes them by prescribing an unnatural and unhealthy thin ideal? One that asks us to sacrifice our time, energy, and mental and physical health for a chance to feel less oppressed? I call bullshit. Diet culture is the antithesis of empowerment and it’s pulling us further away from our authentic selves. 

Amidst the concerns about the “obesity epidemic,” I am not seeing much concern about the physiological distress that comes with dieting, for the millions of people who struggle with an eating disorder every year, or for the ways in which larger-bodied people are mistreated everywhere from the doctor’s office to airplanes. If we are truly concerned about the health of Americans, we need to approach it through an historical lens, paying close attention to cultural factors and influences of social control. Our lens is currently obscured by ingrained prejudice and discrimination against women and POC. If we are to truly dismantle oppressive power structures and win the “war on obesity,” we have to open our eyes to what we’re really fighting (hint: it’s not your muffin top).

If you’re trying to heal from an eating disorder or internalized fatphobia or simply trying to navigate the world in your body, you are not alone. Authentic change requires challenging prevailing norms about the ways in which we understand fatness. It means finding support and advocating for yourself in spaces that hold fat phobic attitudes. It means finding a supportive community. It means educating and empowering yourself to be your own best caretaker regardless of the labels others try to place on you. Healing is possible, and it’s for you. It’s radical self-acceptance, it’s revolutionary resistance, it’s unconditional self-care and self love. No diet or exercise regimen will ever provide that.