Fat is Furious Issue

Seen on a weight loss related message board:

I have had 3 or 4 people in the past couple of weeks to blatantly tell me to my face that I have gained weight. These people were not even family members, friends or really even acquaintances...Like I dont KNOW I have gained weight!!! I already feel bad enough about myself, and these people feel they need to remind me? I mean, what do they expect me to say "Geez, thanks for telling me that, I hadn't noticed!" I would NEVER just blatantly go and tell someone they have gained weight, especially someone I barely know... I just cant believe people! Do they think overweight people have no feelings or something? Do they think we dont know that we are a bit overweight and they need to remind us? Unbelievable.

There followed a series of replies generally sympathizing with and supporting the original poster. But it set something off for me, and I said:

I would feel the same feelings you are expressing, but I have to ask -- aren't we surrendering to the idea that the extra weight means something more than itself, if we are insulted by people commenting on it? I mean, who would be insulted if someone said "I didn't recognize you, your hair is much longer than the last time I saw you"?

We are ashamed of ourselves, and we accept that we should be. If not, we wouldn't be insulted by observations of what is patently true.

The thread went on as though my post was visible only to me; more validation and support for the original poster, more "people are rude, don't let them get you down."

Being fat is not a moral failure. Why do we feel shame when we perceive, or know, that people can see the physical manifestation of the culmination of our nutritional choices?

"Such a pretty face -- too bad she's fat." Such a bright girl -- too bad she's fat." "She'd be great for that position -- too bad she doesn't look right for it." And we don't just accept it, we internalize it, to the point that we speak of having "good days" or "bad weeks" depending entirely on what we ate and whether the number on the scale moved down or up.

I'm not making this observation from a safe distance. This is my perplexity and my struggle. In the space of two years I lost 95 pounds and gained back 45, then added another 25 over the past year. I thought I had conquered the habits of a lifetime but went back to them because they provided a comfort more alluring than the rewards of physical strength, meeting societal standards of beauty and the approval of others. For two years I have been making an almost daily choice to overeat, to sit on my ass so many hours a day my thighs actually ache from it.

I don't want to be seen. I have little enthusiasm for going anywhere that I may meet someone who has not seen me in the last year. I luxuriated in the approving smiles bestowed upon me as my body shrank and tightened and I dread seeing surprise and disapproval on the faces of those who complimented me just months ago. I castigate myself for being a hostage to my body image. I berate myself for backsliding, for making the same bad choices every day, for "wasting time" being fat.

And underlying all of this is my conviction that being fat is the living manifestation of an essential failure of self.

Being fat is not a moral failure. Why do I believe that it is?