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I'm Not Fat, But What If I Were?

By Kerry Cohen

April 16, 2012

Kerry Cohen is not fat. But like many women, she struggles almost daily with what she sees in the mirror. She shares her lifelong battle with feeling "kind of fat," knowing she's not, and trying to accept herself for who she is.

The one time anyone called me fat was when I was in the eighth grade. I was the new girl, and I made fast friends with Christy, an on-my-way-to-my-real-friends girl, a girl I would soon dump because I’d meet people I liked more. Christy was not pretty, not even a little bit. But she was thin, and she knew it. She dressed to show off her body. She had a boyfriend, she told me, who lived one town over from ours. She and he talked every night on the phone, and sometimes she visited him. One day after school we took a bus to his town and walked seven blocks until we reached his house. She rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. Then she called up to his bedroom, but still no one came. We hung around in the yard for a bit, and then we walked the seven blocks, got back on the bus, and we went home. The next day, Christy told me she spoke with her boyfriend on the phone. He had been there, but he was napping and didn’t feel like getting up to unlock the door. He saw us out the window, and, she told me, he thought you were cute but kind of fat.

Kind of fat.

I had never thought of myself as fat. At 13, I had already managed to garner male attention with my body. I assumed, without thinking much about it, that this meant my body was just fine. But now, that day when Christy told me I was kind of fat, I began to question whether I might be. Kind of fat. Not fat, like obese, just kind of fat, as in, it couldn’t hurt to lose a few. As in, you are only fat when compared to thin. As in, you could be better.

My mother thought she was kind of fat. Other times she admired herself. Her weight went up and down by maybe 10 pounds, and to her this was the difference between OK and not OK, between kind of fat and not fat.

When I was 18, I took an aerobics class for the first time and a thinner-than-me friend laughed cruelly and said, “You have to do it more than once a week for it to make a difference.”       

Later that year, visiting from college, I sat at my mother’s dining room table. I squeezed my stomach fat and grimaced. “Then, do something about it,” my mother barked.

At a party in some guy’s apartment, I sat next to a girl who would sleep with just about every boy I slept with. She was my “friend,” nice enough, but clearly we were in some sort of competition I hadn’t known I’d signed up for. The host passed around a plate of brownies he’d baked. I practically drooled on them I wanted one so badly, but I passed it to my friend.

“No, thanks,” I said. “I can’t,” and I referred to my thighs.

“I can,” she said. “I run every day.” She popped a brownie in her mouth and smiled with her mouth closed.

So, I took up running. I did not take up running for health or achievement. I also became a vegan—again, not because I had any moral beliefs around eating animals. I became vegan because I believed it would make me thin. I ran because I wanted to be thin.

Both before and after I became a runner, men liked my body. They liked it a lot actually. They ran their palms along my hips and said things like, “I love this right here.” My female friends told me I was thin. I look now at photos of myself back then, both before and after, and I see no difference. I was thin. I was always thin.

I do not have an eating disorder. I’ve never intentionally vomited food for weight loss. I’ve never starved myself. I’ve never been at an unhealthy weight. My BMI has always been normal. Still, I am irrationally obsessed with my weight and whether I am fat. Some might say I have self-hatred, and to some extent this is true. But it’s more that I like myself—my accomplishments, my success, my intelligence, and my ability for compassion and love—I just don’t like the vehicle that carries me around. And even that’s not true because sometimes I like my body just fine. There have been times I’ve even loved it.

When I was in graduate school in my early 20s, I went to therapy with the intention of dealing with my body image issues once and for all. I was tired of it. No one had to explain to me that thinking about being fat was a waste of brain space. No one had to tell me—as they did again and again—that I wasn’t actually fat. I was too smart for this. I was too feminist for this. I’d had plenty of therapy working on my self-esteem. I just wanted it to end. My therapist was a student of the Master’s program in Psychology at the school. She was tall and broad—not fat, just big. Surely she could understand. Using her studies, we tried visualization. We tried cognitive reframing. All of it seemed ridiculous and besides the point.

Finally, after a frustrating effort to get me to visualize myself as thin, I said, “It’s not that I need to think I’m thin when I look in the mirror.”

She stared at me a moment, stumped. “It’s not?”

I knew for sure, then, that she struggled with this issue too. She too wanted to see herself as thin.

“No,” I said. “I need to realize that I can’t see myself at all, that whatever I think I see, it isn’t real.”

She nodded slowly. “You’re right,” she said.

“Maybe I can imagine that every time I look in the mirror I have imaginary goggles on that I can’t take off. I have to know that what I see doesn’t matter. It’s just a reflection of something else in my psyche.”

We agreed.

“And, I mean, I can get angry about all the ads with impossibly thin women. I can yell at all the commercials that play on the tyranny of being thin.”

“Yes,” she said. She was just as jazzed as I was.

And for a little while, this worked. I got off my case. I stopped telling myself I was disgusting. I stopped squeezing my thighs and belly. I let myself be. I took my anger out at the magazines, at the fashion industry, at the bullshit weight loss industry that bases half its research on lies. I got furious.

Over time, though, the feelings crept back. Over time, the fury died down, as it tends to as you get older. I forgot about those goggles, and once again I believed I was fat. Once again I looked in the mirror and saw ugliness.

I am not. I am not ugly. I am not fat. I am not disgusting. Does it matter how many times I say that? Can it ever counteract the cultural message that whatever you are, it is too much, not enough, never right?

Affirmations don’t work. Self-acceptance—however one gets that—doesn’t work. The understanding that who I am inside, not what I look like, doesn’t work. And I think I know why. Because if I really were fat I would be reminded daily that I was not pleasing to others, that I deserved less, that I couldn’t have what I wanted. Because that’s how our culture works.

Listen, I’m not fat. I’m a size 8, sometimes a 6. I’m 5’5” and I weigh 140 pounds. My target weight is 130, which would put me below my BMI. I’m not fat. I’m not fat. I’m not fat. But, goddamn it, so what if I were?

I don’t exercise right now. I can’t. Because every time I exercise I’m doing it only to be thin, and if I miss a day or I don’t exercise hard enough, I treat myself like shit. I berate myself. I call myself fat, not good enough. I can be so terribly mean.

Meanwhile, it didn’t occur to me until I was well into my 30s that Christy’s boyfriend never said those things. He didn’t say I was cute but kind of fat, and if he had, why would she tell me, except to establish the one thing she had over me: that she was thinner than I was? All these years later I’d assumed I was the only one being mean. I’ve simply been a willing participant.

Kerry Cohen is the author of six books, including the acclaimed Loose Girl: A Memoir of Promiscuity. She's been featured on Dr. Phil, Good Morning America, and the BBC, and her work has appeared in The New York Times, The Washington Post, Psychology Today, and many others. Learn more at www.kerry-cohen.com.

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  • Jenni
    05/11/12 at 02:40 PM #

    Wow, I just want to say what a strong character it takes to admit when you’re wrong and apologize like that! That is just absolutely classy, Stephanie.

    I also want you to know you are not alone, many of us have a hard time controlling emotional reactions on this topic. It’s often something that has taken so much of our emotional space for so long that it is hard to separate logical thoughts from emotions. But you really womaned up here and you ought to be proud that even though you make mistakes you learn and grow from them. My hat’s off to you!

  • Stephanie
    05/07/12 at 08:42 PM #

    Shit, shit I feel really bad. What I wrote was very ignorant, I am so sorry Kerry!!! It completely reflects poorly on me and my own issues. I was displacing my anger and confusion to an innocent person who was brave enough to share her story. I wish I could take it all back. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. Although my first reaction to your story was negative and misunderstood, now that I have had time to actually think (and use my brain) I see your story for what it is: YOUR STORY! And I had/have no right to attack what you feel. I am ashamed for what I wrote, it’s hard for me to believe that I wrote those harsh words, I’m so sorry. My comment was basically me being angry at myself and other people in my life, and I don’t know what to say. There is no excuse for what I did, because I hurt you, you didn’t deserve that at all. I hardly deserve to write another comment but I just wanted you to know that I completely regret, take back, and am appalled by what I said. I’m so sorry, my comment is full of disrespect, it seems like a different awful person wrote it. But that person is me. And I’m sorry.

  • Jenni
    05/02/12 at 11:12 PM #

    “What you have written is offensive to ALL women not only the “fat” “ugly” “disgusting” ones that get no male attention.”

    Stephanie, this is not true. I am a woman and what she has written here is not offensive to me. As I said in my original comment, it’s not an experience I can relate to. However, it is as valid an experience as any of ours are and translating that experience into words for a blog is not in any way offensive. You need take a step back and ask yourself why you are offended in relation to what has been said without making a claim about the rest of us. Even share your story or advice but don’t try to tell someone they have no right to communicate their experience.

  • Kerry Cohen
    04/29/12 at 12:50 AM #

    I tried to make clear that there is indeed nothing wrong with being fat. Of course there isn’t. That’s sort of obvious to me, something I thought was folded into the confession of my own struggles…and I feel pretty misunderstood about that. The “worst thing ever” is not being fat – it’s feeling like I can’t love my body, whatever it is. It’s feeling like I can’t get out from the stupid societal influence, no matter what I try. This is epidemic – that’s why I wrote about it. It IS self-absorbed, and yet most every woman I know is consumed by it. THAT’s why I wrote about it.

    I’m so sick of being projected upon and hated for whatever thing other people hate about themselves or their mothers or whatever. Then again, I’m a writer (even though, according to some of you, I should STOP writing immediately because I suck. Thank you for that. What a nice thing). And because I always tend to write about the things that aren’t pat, that aren’t what many want to admit or is “okay” to say, that’s what I’m up against.

    Anyway, onward. I wish you all good things.

  • Kerry Cohen
    04/28/12 at 10:24 PM #

    I appreciate people’s experience of what I wrote. I’m always interested to hear people’s thoughtful, respectful comments of what I write, but telling me to never write about women and their bodies again is just….nasty and cruel. Same for the one who said I’m self-absorbed and that’s why I write. That’s useful. Thanks a lot for making ME feel like shit right back. Mission accomplished. I sure wish women could ever support one another and our different ways of expressing our different experiences.

    If you felt angry or hurt or whatever about this essay, then I’m happy to hear. But it doesn’t work to be so harsh and accusatory. When will people on the internet ever ever stop doing this to one another? Especially women?

  • stephanie
    04/28/12 at 04:21 PM #

    I find it difficult to believe that you call yourself a feminist and are a published author. This is one of the worst articles I have ever read. What you have written is offensive to ALL women not only the “fat” “ugly” “disgusting” ones that get no male attention. Please never write anything again that has to do with women or bodies or requires depth. You should really think of how others will perceive what you say. This whole article is about how being fat was the biggest fear and inhibitor in your life (which is common and I accept that) but your big epiphany at the mature age of 30 was “ewww I can’t believe I thought I was fat omg look at me! I’m so thin and gorgeous men love my thin body, men would never like me if I was fat! thank goodness I have finally realized I’m thin so I can finally feel like I belong”. Please, please, Kerry I hope that you read these comments and reflect on your intoxicating way of thinking. I am obliged to be blunt about your ignorance given the context of this website and the negative power you might have on an innocent reader. thin is not synonyms with beauty. fat is not synonymous with every negative word you used. male attention is not synonymous with beauty.

  • Jenni
    04/25/12 at 05:51 PM #

    Thanks to a childhood of sickness and steroids and poverty I am fat. Always have been and you’ll pardon me if my sympathy for you is weak. That’s not to say that your experience doesn’t count, just that I can’t relate. To be really fat in our society is torturous. It affects your every move. After being bullied to the point of a suicide attempt and dropping out of school I have finally reached a place where I could truly give a fuck less what others think about me.

    If you want to get there you need to take charge of your own body outside other’s views. Much like in Hyperbole and a Half’s post on depression at some point I reached a place where I was so depressed I simply didn’t care what others think. That point is the most liberating thing you can imagine. I didn’t go there intentionally, but it freed me.

    Today at 35 I lift weights. I do not exercise to be thin, I exercise because I enjoy it. I limit my carbs and I eat as much as I chose because that’s what helps me lift. I’ve lost weight of course, but it’s the total control I realize I have that has helped me gain a self esteem I never had before. Whatever it is I am, I am it because I engineered it. Because I lifted hard and ate clean or because I didn’t. It’s MY choice. My body is here to serve me, not to serve as a vehicle for people to decide how worthy or not I am. I wish I could pass that on to all women. I don’t think it’s the flab, the thighs, the belly, the size that hurts us, it’s the lack of control over what we are that makes us feel bad. That lack of control is good for the billion dollar diet and beauty industry and yet people look to these magazines like they are there for some purpose other than cannibalizing your self esteem for their profit. It boggles the mind. Why would anyone assume anyone other than themselves is a good judge of how your body ought to be? And yet day after day women let these people into their hearts and minds. Just don’t. Give your body what it needs, good clean food and use. Use it. Lift heavy shit, run across a field, do something your body was made to do every day if you can. Not because you’ll lose weight but because it’s a body that’s what it was designed to do.

  • H
    04/25/12 at 05:22 PM #

    I think this should have been called : I’m not fat, and so what if I was?

  • OMG
    04/23/12 at 11:24 AM #

    Maybe the imaginary boyfriend didn’t say, “She’s a little bit fat,” but, “she’s cute but way too vapid, whiny and annoying …”

    Because that would have made sense.

  • null
    04/23/12 at 10:32 AM #

    MY god..im not fat…silly… you started running, eating veag all to be “Thin”..did you no have self confidence in yourself that there was more to you than that..I was especially annoyed by the remark..Christy was not pretty, not even a little…is it down to that as well.Here we go again..I guess its all about being pretty and thin..how about being smart..i dont see that in there anywhere. I especially was annoyed at i had managed to attract men with my body by age 13…really and why would you be doing that…so many sexisms in one article but one woman who claimed that one sentece affected her negatively…really you need to seriously revisit your values about women a before you pick up the kcpen again.

  • peppermint
    04/23/12 at 10:30 AM #

    Maybe it is time to move to the 9th grade- we all can remember being used by “friends” who were waiting for kids they felt were more popular. Kindness, forgiveness, and tolerance are much more valuable to me than body image.

  • Time to move to the 9th grade
    04/23/12 at 10:17 AM #

    I focus on kindness, forgiveness, and trying not to judge others. Many people remember times that they were used by “friends” who were waiting for cooler people to come along. Sad that you should still remember this as a pivotal moment in your life.

  • Mary
    04/23/12 at 08:10 AM #

    I feel compelled to tell you that I’m thinner than you. I’m not bragging, because I struggle with body image every day. I’m getting older, getting fatter, losing estrogen, watching gravity wage its war. I realize that there will always be plenty of women who are younger, prettier and thinner. But I’ve convinced myself that if I were accomplished; if I found something that would make a difference that I could be proud of, that I could slay this insidious monster that lurks in my not so sub-consciousness. Well, if the author of 7 (?) books still struggles with self image, perhaps that’s not the solution either. Maybe if we become less self absorbed and focus on others, we’ll begin to discover what’s truly important and, in the process, learn to love ourselves, regardless of what the scale says.

  • JL
    04/19/12 at 02:00 AM #

    @Adaya, PREACH! Based on my experiences as a fatty and my involvement in fat community, I can confidently say that there are real things that are difficult for fatties—clothes, chairs, media (mis)representation, physician abuse, employment discrimination etc. But being fat is not synonymous with hating your body. I love my body, and it has been other fatties who have taught me to accept myself (yes, that exists, I promise) by cultivating a critical resistance to diet culture.

    Sometimes the worst part about being fat is having to manage others’ expectations. Making the same arguments about fat health and assuring people that I don’t think I’m ugly when I call myself fat— that shit is exhausting.

  • Adaya
    04/18/12 at 05:09 PM #

    I am fat. I am 5’5" and 222 lbs. I’ve been fat my whole life. The last time I shopped in a non-plus-size store I was 13 and could barely fit into their biggest clothes. I’m trying to figure out how to say this next part… Articles like this make me angry. Certainly not because they are wrong, or rude, or should not exist!! But because, for me, the underlying message is, “I’m a thin girl who worries so much about being fat it makes me crazy!! Being fat must be the worst thing ever!!” Which is, in some ways, absolutely true. But as a fat girl, I just have to wonder about that thin-girl compulsion toward constant self-menal-abuse (is that the right phrase?) that is supposed to keep them thin. I mean sometimes I just wanna shout, “Shut up and eat the brownie, it ain’t that bad!!”

    And again, I’m not saying that anything in this article is wrong to feel or believe, I guess I just felt compelled to comment from the fat side of the girl divide.

    And when you were telling the story of your childhood friend, I totally thought that she had said that to you mostly to cover up the fact that she didn’t actually have a boyfriend. ;)