Just Eat Less

Just Eat Less

Picture this: Someone posts a photo of a plus-size person minding their own business. Five, four, three, two, one... BOOM! The comments section explodes with amateur nutritionists: "Maybe skip the drive-thru?" "Hit the gym?" "It's simple math!"

Simple? Please. These keyboard warriors aren't just being cruel—they're being comically wrong. And honey, that combination is as unflattering as pairing Crocs with formal wear.

"Just Eat Less" — The Mathematical Equivalent of "Just Be Taller"

Let me serve you some reality from my household's all-you-can-eat buffet of irony:

My husband? The man inhales food like he's getting paid by the calorie. Breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, lunch, afternoon tea—he's basically a hobbit with a metabolism that burns hotter than gossip in a small town. His pants size? As unchanging as his inability to find the hamper.

Meanwhile, I'm over here counting almonds like they're hundred-dollar bills, hitting my step goal with the determination of someone being chased by a bear, and staying under my calorie limit with military precision. My body's response? "That's cute. Here's another five pounds."

I joke that my ancestors were the ultimate survivors—the ones who thrived through famines by storing every spare calorie like apocalypse preppers hoarding canned beans. I'm essentially the Tesla of human bodies: supremely efficient at conserving energy while my husband runs like a vintage Cadillac with a gas leak.

The plot twist that feels like nature's practical joke? I'm ALWAYS hungry. Not for feasts—just for "a little something" approximately 90 times daily. It's like having an internal notification system that won't stop pinging: "Snack time?" "How about now?" "Just a bite?" "Food still exists, FYI!"

Why, evolution? WHY?

And the "calories in, calories out" mantra? It's not wrong, but it's about as complete as explaining "The Godfather" as "a movie about Italians who run a business."

The Weight Game: More Players Than a Masquerade Ball

Weight management involves more plot twists than a telenovela:

  • Metabolism: Some bodies burn calories like teenagers burn through data plans; others conserve energy like grandparents save plastic bags
  • Genetics: Sorry, but your DNA has opinions about your jeans size
  • Hormones: Insulin, cortisol, estrogen, and testosterone—basically, a group chat that never stops and always affects your weight
  • Medications: Many come with the unspoken side effect of "Here's 20 pounds you didn't ask for!"
  • Age: Your metabolism at 40 has the energy of a cat that's found the perfect sunbeam—it's not moving
  • Medical conditions: PCOS, hypothyroidism, and others make weight loss about as easy as solving a Rubik's cube underwater
  • Surgery: Post-op bodies sometimes decide to rewrite their own operating manuals
  • Stress: Cortisol is like that friend who shows up with terrible ideas and won't leave
  • Sleep: Miss those ZZZs and your hunger hormones throw a rebellion worthy of a YA dystopian novel

The Psychology Behind Fat-Shaming: A Mystery Nobody Asked to Solve

When someone feels the burning need to comment on a stranger's body, they're telling on themselves harder than a toddler with chocolate-covered hands denying they ate cookies.

Is it about:

  • Reinforcing their own illusion of control? (Spoiler: We control far less than we think)
  • Creating distance from what terrifies them? ("If I judge it, it can't happen to me!" Narrator: It could.)
  • Simplifying complex issues because nuance is scary? (Life is messy. Deal with it.)
  • Performing virtue to an audience? (We see you, and no one's applauding)

None of these has the slightest thing to do with concern for the person being judged. It's emotional theater where the only person being entertained is the performer.

The Harm: More Painful Than High-Waisted Jeans on Thanksgiving

These comments don't inspire change—they're about as helpful as a chocolate teapot. Research shows that weight stigma leads to:

  • Increased stress eating (Congratulations, you just caused what you claimed to be solving)
  • Exercise avoidance (Nothing motivates physical activity like public humiliation! Oh wait...)
  • Delayed medical care (Because nothing says "self-care" like avoiding healthcare professionals who might judge you)
  • Higher rates of eating disorders (Slow clap for making mental health worse)
  • Depression and anxiety (The unwanted side dishes to your serving of judgment)

In other words, fat shaming makes everything worse, which makes the shamers wrong twice. That's impressive, really.

Breaking the Cycle: Your Survival Toolkit

If you're on the receiving end:

  1. Set boundaries firmer than airport security: "My body isn't up for public discussion" is a complete sentence. No need for the extended remix.
  2. Marie Kondo your social media: Does this account spark joy? No? Block, mute, unfollow—choose your own adventure.
  3. Find your people: Connect with Health at Every Size and body-positive communities where your value isn't measured in pounds or inches.
  4. Redefine your metrics: Blood pressure, energy levels, strength, and mental health tell you more about your wellbeing than any scale ever could.
  5. Talk to yourself like you're your own best friend: Would you tell your BFF they're worthless because of their size? No? Then stop the self-trash-talk.

If you witness the shame game:

  1. Ask the uncomfortable questions: "What makes you comfortable commenting on someone else's body?" Watch them squirm like they're in a job interview they didn't prepare for.
  2. Drop some knowledge: Share facts about weight complexity faster than people share celebrity gossip.
  3. Change the channel: "Instead of discussing her body, can we talk about literally anything else of value she brings to the world?"
  4. Be the example: Show others what it looks like to interact with people as if—wild concept incoming—their bodies aren't the most interesting thing about them.

The Grand Finale (With Extra Cheese)

The real issue isn't about weight—it's about basic human dignity. It's recognizing that behind every body is a person with a complex story that can't be summarized in a BMI calculation.

The next time you see someone rushing to comment on a stranger's weight, remember: this tells you nothing about the person in the photo and everything about the person who can't resist typing that comment. It's the judgment equivalent of a selfie—it reveals far more about the commenter than their target.

And if you're riding the struggle bus of weight changes due to circumstances beyond your control—accident, illness, medication, age, or the genetic lottery—know this: your worth was never in the number on the scale. Your body is carrying you through life's obstacle course. That deserves a standing ovation, not criticism.

Let's use our energy for something more productive than debating how much space someone's body takes up in the world. After all, the real shortage isn't in airplane seats—it's in kindness, understanding, and the ability to mind our own damn business.

Serving size: One reality check. Contains: Truth bombs. May cause: Perspective shifts and unexpected empathy.