I woke up with the cheesy quesadilla I ate last night sitting in my gut and that’s one of the worst feelings about gaining weight. That and the struggle to lift my leg up higher than my bathtub with ease, stubbing my toe on the way in and out. Being fat kind of sucks, and I don’t mean that to shame anyone. If you’ve ever struggled with your weight, you already know—I’m back again in under two years since moving back to the U.S.
I thought that talking about my weight would be something of the past after I had been fitting into a size six with ease. People told me how great I looked too when I visited from the island – compliments that come with their own kind of complexity.
On one hand, there were years of my life struggling with yo-yo dieting, losing 5-10 pounds here and there, hoping someone would notice. This time, I didn’t try to lose weight, and even with my unfamiliar skinny thighs, they lacked the muscle definition I had always tried to achieve before.
My mind tends to analyze everything long before accepting it and compliments are no different. I remember juggling them in my mind then too, searching for the root meaning—‘I wonder how bad I looked before?’ That’s what makes it all so damn uncomfortable now that I’ve gained the weight back. If I looked great then, well, how about now?
It’s probably even worse now that they’ve seen the potential of what I could look like. But here in the US, people don’t usually mention when you’ve gained weight. Why do we only mention something about it when it comes to loss, not gains? And because we’ve built this culture of mentioning weight at all, it feels like an unsaid truth that wants to come out. Maybe it should.
I was reviewing material to put on this new site and I came across a post from a few years ago, titled “My Body.” It stood out to me even though I wrote it after I had lost a bit of weight during the emergence into my single-hood and a change of career between 2018 and 2020. I can say this now with even more confidence and conviction as the fact remains the same -it really doesn’t matter how you look, especially to others. What matters is how you feel. Emotions aside, the biggest indicator for health, to me, is how your body physically feels.
I do not like when my body is heavy. I’ve never been able to stick to a routine long enough to actually hit my goal though. I like to think I’ve never hated my body enough to deny myself of indulgences. I know some say self-discipline is an act of self-love. I would agree with that too.
It’s all about perspective though and I suppose when it comes to the weight alone--gaining, losing, it’s really not that big of a deal. It may be worth a 2000-word blog post, but it’s nothing we need to sit in silence as if the matter shall be shunned from existence. Many people struggle with their weight – both putting it on and taking it off. It is a very common experience.
I’ve always fixated on my weight since I can remember, and I have enough self-awareness to talk about how I look with honesty, and a little humor. It’s the reason I wanted to start writing a blog in the first place, over a decade ago. My goal was to promote body-positivity while not ignoring the obvious -I love food, and sometimes it’s easier to rest rather than push a gym workout after a stressful day.
I suppose I haven’t found the right rhythm of life having a sedentary occupation to sustain my desired physique. My normal lifestyle is conducive to extra pounds right now -which is perfectly timed as I am getting ready to publish this site again.
The first time I published my blog under this same name was in 2015, and my content consisted primarily of lifestyle choices and the struggle with weight loss. I hesitated to follow through with my content because I received feedback it was self-sabotaging. I thought my writing was humorous.
I have since outgrown seeking other people’s approval in my creative work. Those posts are long gone now, and my life has evolved a lot over the decade. My career has changed dramatically, but is currently sedentary again, as it was back then.
One thing remains the same though and that is I’ve always enjoyed the right things like working out and healthy eating. Sometimes food can be an escape though, and other times leaving the house feels like torture. It is possible to love yourself, and poke fun at yourself too. And sometimes, the reason for something to exist is layered. There is not always a simple explanation for the way we are, but it doesn’t mean everything has to feel so heavy.
If I can’t laugh at the fact I have gained fifty pounds in under two years since moving from a Caribbean Island to the bitter cold winters of Ohio, I’d be miserable all the time. Now, I’m only miserable some of the time. I usually tend to shake that off and get on with my day just fine though.
Besides, with Spring in the air and high hopes that we really have seen the last of the cold weather for awhile, I am hopeful to have many more pleasant days filled with fun, outdoor activities to keep me moving. I tell people who question my move, life is what you make of it, wherever you are.
One thing that worked well for me in Sint Maarten was that my primary mode of transportation was walking. There were also times of limited resources, and I discovered the benefits of intermittent fasting. I was never in a position to do a $200 grocery haul, and binge days were simply not a practical use of resources.
Unlike now, where it’s easy to overdo it. My most recent being the consumption of at least 20 large cookies leftover from my grandfather’s memorial service. There are times that I’m eating and think to myself, ‘I will pay for this later.’ Exercise alone cannot combat the effects of a large calorie dump, and that’s just science.
My body has been a lifelong experiment. I tend to gain weight easily, but I have also been able to see quick results following a strict calorie deficit. Working out always seems to help, but it’s the food that makes the biggest difference. Knowing I can always lose it if I really want gives me a free waiver anytime I want to indulge.
It’s undeniable though that I liked how I felt, and looked, when I was lighter. Clothes were much easier to get in an out of for one, and my body didn’t feel the drag of extra weight in my bones and joints, and on my feet. Even five pounds makes a huge difference, so when you start to gain weight, it can feel like a freight train moving out of control. One bad week of eating your emotions can pull you down a track that’s hard to switch.
When I left to visit the US, anywhere from 3 weeks, to a few months once, the weight piled on as soon as I stepped off the plane. People noticed my weight too, in both countries. We have a different relationship with weight gain here in the US than in other countries. It may be the communication style that makes the difference. My experience is limited to the one tiny island I lived on, but it’s something I’ve noticed.
The experiment continued as my body fluctuated as I moved between both countries. Gaining weight as touched down in the US, then working it off as I got back to my normal routine on the island. People complimented me in both places. In the US, I had finally heard all the compliments I so longed for over the years. I would enjoy my time while I was visiting, paying little attention to what I was putting in my body, adding pounds quickly, as I tend to.
In Sint Maarten, however, people did not hold back letting me know the noticeable change. My weight gain was never perceived with shame though. People complimented me, “You look so fat and nice,” they’d say. On the flip side, they wouldn’t hesitate to mention if I was too skinny either. There was a time I remember a Sint Maarten friend told me my butt was gone, which was not a good thing to them.
People in Sint Maarten always told you the truth, whether you liked it or not. Even though the compliments were nice, I didn’t like that I had put on weight. Ironically though I liked the critiques –never thinking I’d be one to be too thin, which I had later found out some people in the US thought, only telling me so once I looked ‘healthy’ again. I suppose it didn’t matter if they were complimenting or critique, how I felt came down to the validation of what I preferred.
It does feel good when people compliment you after you’ve worked hard at something. I suppose for me, I had never lost the weight with that goal in mind, so it didn’t have the same effect, or maybe I just can’t take a compliment. But after gaining weight, there is this anticipation of what’s to come when you haven’t seen someone in a while, or what’s not to come.
People in the US tend to not say anything unless it’s given as a compliment. It comes from a good place though -we like to be kind. ‘If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all,’ we’ve been taught since young. We are all more than happy to share if we notice even a slight weight loss of another. “You look great!” we say before asking them the details of their great accomplishment. Weight gain is noticeable too, why not mention it?
It seems nowadays though we may have to be careful when bringing up weight loss as well. Not everyone may want to share their secrets. But this isn’t about if it’s shameful to admit we used a medical product or procedure to help us reach our goals. It’s about the implication made by saying nothing when we notice. As if weight gain should be shameful. I struggle with this myself, but when I see others who have put on a few pounds, it’s not what I think of them. It happens.
I recently wrote about overcoming failure in my blog “Mosaic of Broken Dreams”. This concept is similar in that sometimes the hardest part about experiencing a setback is the discussion with other people, or in this case, the lack of discussion. People are quick to acknowledge weight loss as an achievement, so what does it imply if we don’t mention a weight gain?
I don’t have the answers either, because I certainly will not acknowledge if I notice weight gain on someone. I’ve also stopped acknowledging when I see they have lost some weight too. It was recently that someone close to me mentioned she was finally able to fit in some clothing. I thought she looked thinner, but I didn’t mention anything – the meeting was due to much heavier circumstances, and I suppose bringing up weight loss didn’t seem important at the time.
I didn’t mind the acknowledgment of my weight gain. At first, I perceived it as criticism, but after the feeling of exposure was gone, I realized they were just making conversation of the obvious. In a way, it was relieving because I didn’t wonder what they must be thinking about me, letting my mind blow things out of proportion as it does. My existence became more manageable, sitting with the truth.
The anticipation that I’ll get the silent shame upon a meeting with someone I haven’t seen in awhile gives me anxiety. I know people will want to keep conversations pleasant and light, but it would be easier if they acknowledge the obvious. Besides, I notice those quick, subtle body scans with the eyes upon our greeting. It’s hard not to notice changes. Why let that unsaid energy linger in your mind as we carry on with what will undoubtedly be small talk?
I like to get into deep conversations, and I am not one to hold back on something like weight gain. This subject is nothing new to me. The people who really know me know I have always struggled with my weight. It does not make me feel worse if you notice it—in fact, it makes me feel better. Because now you are one more person I can get honest with about how I’ve been.
There’s a reason I’ve gained weight, and it goes beyond lack of exercise or eating too much. It’s a cycle I’ve dealt with most of my life—one that’s rooted in something I was once not even aware of.
And if we can’t talk about the obvious things like weight, it’s no surprise the deeper ones stay buried.