Weight Changes and Social Media

I was a chubby kid, and every adult in my life wanted me to fight my fat by eating less sugar and playing outside. When I was still chubby as a teenager, diets, juice cleanses, and exercise tips were thrown at me as though my body was a problem that still needed fixing. I was ashamed, and I spent every day telling myself that I could only wear or do certain things “once I was skinny.”

I expected being skinny to be a magical experience. Because when you’re thin, you’re healthy and beautiful and worthy, right? I expected to have some amazing weight loss journey that strengthened my connection to myself, taught me about the universe, left me happy every day of my life, and in love with kale. To be fair, I did learn a lot, but the experience was far from magical.

I am only skinny today because I developed Undifferentiated Connective Tissue Disease and Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome last year. I lost nearly 50 pounds in two months, and it did not feel glamorous. Despite my body being under immense stress, I was met with nothing but positivity for my big weight loss. Everyone was thrilled for me. 

I kept telling family and friends, even new doctors, that I was sick. That I didn’t lose the weight because I wanted to. It made no difference, the comments kept coming, and that was confusing for me. I didn’t understand how after receiving life-altering diagnoses people were still only focused on the appearance of my body and not my physical well-being. 

I couldn’t shake my irritation when people made remarks about my body and using social media only served to intensify my frustration about how Skinny Dev was perceived. The people in my life ignorantly celebrated my weight loss, but social media reminded me that while I was skinny, I still hadn’t “earned” the label. I didn’t wake up at five o’clock every morning and down pre-workout before heading to the gym. I didn’t lift weights until my glutes swelled or my abs became defined. I didn’t even eat nutritious foods. I finally fit this mold, this “ideal,” and yet I didn’t. 

Getting sick required a ton of mental and emotional processing, so while people glorified my weight loss and social media toyed with my insecurities, I adapted to being disabled. I had to grieve the life I knew before and accept that my plans for the future, while still possible, needed some altering. I had to be mindful of my limitations and ok with bad days. I had to learn to love my body even when I felt like she failed me. I had to unpack the shame I felt towards my body when I was fat and forgive myself for not being more gentle at the time. Then I had to recognize that my weight meant absolutely nothing in comparison to how I felt physically, mentally, and emotionally. I am still grieving and learning every day, but being patient with myself as I process has made a huge difference in my overall well-being. 

At the end of the day, what other people think of us and what social media expects from us is irrelevant to our individual lives. In an effort to create a comfortable environment for myself, I now correct “compliments” about my weight and follow other disabled and chronically ill people on social media. Community is paramount for me, and knowing that my experiences are not unique helps keep me grounded. 

I even met another chronically ill queen through Be More! Maddy is a writing intern as well, and she experienced a 70-pound weight gain after being diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome almost four years ago. 

Maddy had always been relatively confident, but gaining weight as a result of her illness caused her to feel like “an alien” in her own body. The response she received from her friends and family did not make it easier to adjust to her illness and weight changes. Instead, suggestions that Maddy diet and exercise to lose weight led her to develop, “unhealthy eating practices, where I was often eating under 800 calories a day.” While following “a strict low-carb diet” resulted in a 35-pound weight loss, Maddy experienced another slight weight gain after integrating carbs into her diet again. 

Simply put, when you’re disabled or chronically ill, you don’t always have control over the way your body operates. While certain foods and physical therapy may be beneficial for some people, what someone eats and their level of physical activity will not eliminate their chronic health issue. Again, diets and gym memberships will not cure someone’s chronic illness or disability.

In general, caring about someone’s appearance and not their well-being is offensive, regardless of their health status. And when we assume that thin means healthy and fat means unhealthy, we are ignoring the experiences of millions of chronically ill and disabled people. Maddy explained that she is, “fairly fit and honestly more in shape than a lot of my “thin” friends,” but she is also, “very aware that everyone’s perception of me is that ‘she’s probably trying to lose weight.’” 

People’s perceptions of Maddy’s body have impacted her social media experience as well. She said that “Social media is both a blessing and a curse” because there are opportunities for growth and connection but there is also detrimental content. She has been sent hateful messages on social media and dating apps about her weight, which led to hesitance in posting at all. People’s weight loss “glow-up” posts also made Maddy feel like there was a body “ideal” she would never reach because of her “biology.” However, Maddy has worked on rebuilding her confidence, and regularly posting selfies on social media has been a big part of her self-acceptance journey this past year. She also made it a point “to follow body-positive accounts on Instagram and make sure I’m not seeing just one kind of body.”  

Learning to love your chronically ill or disabled body is hard. Learning to love your chronically ill or disabled body when everyone else is critiquing your appearance is even harder. Maddy said being chronically ill caused her to “grow a thick skin” and forced her to “stand up for myself a little more than I should [have to].” 

Mine and Maddy’s illnesses may be different, our experiences with medical weight changes may be different, and our daily experiences may be different as well, but one thing that every chronically ill or disabled person can relate to is having to be our own advocate at all times. You learn to advocate for yourself with know-it-all doctors, with friends and family who just don’t get it—with anyone anytime it’s necessary.

Advocating for yourself is beneficial whether or not you are chronically ill or disabled. No person is immune to the body image issues that can stem from poor interactions on social media and with family and friends. Everyone, even the people whose bodies seem “ideal”, carries water weight, gets bloated, looks different at night than in the morning, etc. Every single person will experience weight fluctuations throughout their lives, changes in our bodies are natural! 

Creating a circle of supportive people will help remind you that your weight has never been the most important thing about you. Find community with kind individuals who can empathize with you, fill your social media feed with content that makes you feel good about yourself, and remember that your body is worthy of love and respect even on your toughest days. You’re doing great!!