evitae

Privilege has always been something that I’ve automatically conflated with “race,” and specifically, with “whiteness.”¹ It’s not that I don’t recognize those privileges I do have. Those just aren’t the first things that come to mind. Human nature inclines us to think constantly about the things we wish to have, not those we already do.²

Yet, the fact of the matter is, everything that is a conceivable advantage to someone else, whether you perceive it that way or not, is a privilege. That being said, it never really occurred to me that my size should be deemed as such. It’s just not something I feel the need to obsess over. In fact, I get a little peeved when people label me “skinny.” It’s not that I disagree with them, though I personally identify as the “average” body type since, despite appearances, I’m in terrible shape. I just find it incredibly irritating that people feel the need to keep bringing it up. Somehow, my relatively healthy weight (and body image) marks me as peculiar, particularly among women.³ In our weight obsessed society, it’s been long established that “skinny” is the perceived norm, despite the fact that obesity is pretty prevalent. So how do people cope?

Everywhere I turn, someone is counting calories, giving up bread and pasta, or not eating altogether. Given the positive relationship I have with food, it is absolutely infuriating to watch my friends clamor over what seems like such a trivial detail. Everything in moderation, right? Why fuss over it anymore than that? I wouldn’t call myself a glutton, but I do enjoy food a great deal, especially in good company. Some of my fondest memories were shared over a delicious meal, with people who shared my enthusiasm for food. So you can imagine how I must feel when a friend asks to change plans last minute on account of her diet.

I was livid. Fortunately, the conversation took place over instant messaging, otherwise I may not have dealt with it so calmly. We had plans after work to get bubble tea, one of my personal favorites that I’d been craving for a while at the time. It dawned on her just hours before our departure, having recently renewed her enthusiasm for her diet, that the calories of the drink would certainly be high. Were it not so close to the day of the event, I may not have been quite as upset about it. In retrospect, I probably overreacted, but the alternative, Starbucks, is unappetizing. Yet, that’s not what most offended me. Adding insult to injury, she added, “Sorry, us regular girls don’t get to have as much fun as you skinny girls do.”⁴

This “consolation” was not well received. Right then and there, I considered canceling the event altogether. Instead, I said, “I hope you don’t think that’s a compliment…” She shrugged it off, stating that was in fact her intent.⁵ I was deeply offended by her remark, and I regret not speaking to it then. It’s probably for the best, as I was very likely to blow it out of proportion, given my state of mind (hungry). Ultimately, however, the conversation ended in compromise.

This situation gave me new insight into the guilt we associate with privilege, especially when it is uncommon or perceived to be undeserved or else endowed by something as arbitrary as genetics. I’m sure my genes do play some role in my stature, but obesity is no stranger to my family. Why should I be deemed “irregular” because I “lucked out?” Besides, it’s not all a matter of fortune anyway. There are a number of personal preferences, such as my general ambivalence towards fattening deserts, frequent snacking, love of milk, and habit of eating with the urgency of a cow that have ensured that my figure is comparatively slim. I cannot help that anymore than the color of my skin. In fact, for a moment I felt like I could almost imagine what white guilt felt like, to be accosted for something that had nothing to do with me, at least not immediately.⁶

But I’m done with feeling guilty or sorry for other people who intend to pity and punish themselves for the shape of their bodies. If you’re genuinely obsessed with your body for health rather than image, then I completely support you. Maybe you can even encourage me to exercise more often. All I can ask of my friends is that they know that whatever their choices (including those that may annoy me), I accept them for who they are, not the shape they come in. Stay healthy, friends.

1. Note that I use these terms only loosely, as I buy into neither concept, but they suffice to explain myself in this context. I am of the mind that race is a biological fallacy devised to divide and conquer, whereas whiteness, decoupled from skin color, is merely a subset of human culture. These topics are deserving of separate posts altogether, so I will not go into further detail here. [↩]
2. Envy is such a wasteful emotion. [↩]
3. This may be yet another reason why I occasionally, perhaps often, prefer sausage fests as far as friends are concerned. Tacos are too insistent on being lean. Where’s the beef?! [↩]
4. As this was a plain-text conversation, the emphasis is mine. [↩]
5. But does the intent of words mean more, or their actual impact? How do you reconcile intention with perception? Can you? [↩]
6. Of course race is far more complicated, insofar as minor biological differences are virtually intangible, whereas weight is not. [↩]