As a kid, I spent a lot of time with my grandparents. Like
many first children of a household, I was born in a period of my parents’ life
during which they were still establishing careers, house, etc. So contrary to
my brother’s upbringing, much of my earlier years were heavily influenced by my
mother’s parents. Besides having a natural sweet tooth, my grandmother grew up
in abject poverty. When she immigrated to the States, she took great pleasure
in discovering sugar in all of its American forms. Since sugar was a commodity
of luxury in India that she had often been denied, her natural instinct was to
shower me with all my heart’s content. Having a strong sweet tooth myself, yet
little moderation, I was obese by the age of eight.
The peak of my heavy period was my senior year of high
school. I spanned out to tightly fill a size 13 pair of jeans.[1]
Certainly a 13 isn’t the most extreme of American sizes, but considering my age, that I came
from a highly educated family with good constant access to healthy food,
advanced medicine, a life that allowed for recreation time, and a solid
understanding of the long-term health implications of obesity, my size was hard
to justify short of a psychological explanation, which I have to admit I could
not blame. It wasn’t until I saw myself on TV towards the end of that school
year that I realized how large I had become.
I decided to make a lifestyle change, and have been an avid
gym rat ever since. I take bad food in moderation and eat plenty of the good,
all in balanced portion sizes. In the ten years since I made that change, I have lived everywhere from the
cusp of the Sahara desert to some of the most expensive parts of Europe and the
States. I have been through major surgery, dealt with a few traumatic events,
and been through many highs and lows. Understandably there were some bad weeks in these ten years. Still, through it all, I have remained very consistent in always finding a
way to exercise, to get proper nutrients, to find a way
to take care of myself. After losing that weight, I become a happier, better,
stronger person. Most of the health problems I had went away, I stopped having
mood swings, and even my skin and hair look better.
When I was in grad school, I took a small road trip with two
of my classmates and the sister of one. During that trip, the sister explained
that she was working on a thesis examining a media movement in South Africa
among HIV/AIDS infected people. While the movement did a lot good in bringing a
much needed voice to those who were infected to ensure they were
being treated fairly and HIV/AIDS as a disease was understood, the movement went too far
as to normalize the disease itself. It was diminishing the gravity of what it
meant to be infected. It was building an exaggerated sense of community in
HIV/AIDS patients that it had almost become a badge of honor to be infected. Public health officials were concerned the simple fact that AIDS is a life threatening disease was being lost in the messaging of the
campaign.
I by no means wish to
suggest that discriminating against someone who is obese is anything but
illogical. We all know physical lazy people who are mentally very driven, and
physical driven people who are mentally very lazy. Being thin doesn’t
automatically mean someone is healthy or in shape, and being overweight doesn’t
mean that someone doesn’t care about their body. And in fact, it is not uncommon to see blogs, online forums, commercials and
other media outlets promote the very pragmatic ideas of being
comfortable in one's own skin, not being obsessed with size, and having a
healthy self-image.
Though not as extreme, my concern, however, is related to the example above: obesity is becoming normalized. Being obese is often now explained as “just another trait” some people have, like one’s race or sexual orientation. The problem is that in reality, the message of self-confidence can be misconstrued to mean that being concerned with one’s health and weight are categorically superficial goals. In that skewed interpretation of being comfortable with oneself, self-accountability for taking care of oneself can be demonized. Valid concerns for another person's health can be branded as shallow. Telling a friend they should quit smoking is socially acceptable; telling a friend they need to lose weight is not. Addictions to specific substances are a bad thing; arguing overeating is an addiction is not even considered to be a thing by many people.
Of course, losing weight is not the cure to all health
problems, of course there are many physical and mental ailments that might
prevent a person from being healthy, of course there are cultural implications
for a lot of people in making healthy choices, of course the cost of being
healthy in America is prohibitively high for many, of course modern medicine
has increased life expectancy drastically even as the world becomes
increasingly sedentary. But regardless of the reasons behind the problem, being obese does have many negative effects on the body
and mind. As is the case with any disease, not treating both the cause and
the symptoms can have dire consequences. The literature of what obesity is
costing the United States alone in health care is endless. The quality of life obesity
strips away is a finer, but equally important point. Looking at my life is a perfect example.
When I made that lifestyle change, I finally embraced the
idea that wanting to be fit is not embedded in superficiality. Laughing at consistently
unhealthy eating habits is a detrimental defense mechanism. Writing off a total lack of physical
activity as “understandable laziness” is not an excuse. Increasing my
clothes size every year is not a suitable alternative. My decision to lose weight
was not based on media influence of impossible-to-achieve standards of attractiveness.
It was not predicated on some idealistic notion of finding the perfect partner
only after attaining the perfect body. It was a decision to become accountable
for my own choices, and to allow my health to take precedence in my life.
I can only hope that individuals who are going through the
battles of obesity make the same moves to learn how to prioritize eating well,
exercising, and staying away from harmful substances (or, equally - harmful amounts of substances). Attributing unhealthy behavior to a beauty counter-culture is not the solution. Finding excuses instead of answers is not the solution. Normalizing
obesity, justifying obesity, is not the solution to the epidemic.
[1] Back then I shopped in the
juniors department. The adult American equivalent size is 14; the adult
European equivalent size is a 44. For those who have seen me in the last few
years, I currently wear a size 8 (38 in Europe), though my body composition is
now of much more muscle than back when I was in high school.