Slimming: a brave new world

For a variety of reasons, back in May I came to the conclusion that I needed to do something about my weight.  I had never been a member of a slimming club before, or really tried dieting, even though there had been times over the years when I'd been unhappy about my weight.  Watching what you ate all the time and weighing yourself just seemed a really joyless way to live.  Just as I'd decided that I needed to take action, a flyer for Slimming World came through our letterbox.  I discovered that the nearest meeting was a five-minute walk from our house, so getting to the weekly weigh-in could not have been easier.  

The issue of weight, fat and body image is an extremely tricky one for women.  I'm told that men struggle with this too, but I don't know much about it so I won't presume to comment.  As a feminist, I believe that society uses rules about appearance to control women and put them down; as a woman, there are little voices inside my head that tell me that's just a convenient excuse for women like me who aren't skinny.  I know that there are good health reasons to stay fairly slim; I also know that models, actresses and female TV presenters take 'slim' to a whole new level. In The Devil Wears Prada the main character explains that eight stone is considered 'fat' in the world of New York fashion; any woman 5'3" or taller would be considered underweight at eight stone according to BMI tables used by the NHS. The eponymous heroine in Bridget Jones's Diary records her weight on an almost daily basis; at her heaviest she weighs less than I did at my slimmest ever. To read about a woman who considers herself 'fat' even though she is slimmer than I have ever been is deeply shaming.

Because that's the heart of the problem: shame. I would argue that, most of the time, women's struggles to achieve the perfect body shape have nothing to do with a desire to be healthy and everything to do with a desire to be beautiful.  Women talk about 'being good' by not eating cake - I've done it myself - as if carrying extra weight made them 'bad'.   Shame is a feeling that you are bad, worthless, not worthy of love.  There is an unspoken pecking order among women: if you are the slimmest in a group of women, you feel good; if you are the biggest, you feel terrible.  It's not that we necessarily treat each other differently because of it, but we are very aware of how our bodies compare to our friends'.  Women tend to want to lose weight while telling each other they don't need to.  It's mortifying to hear a friend who is a lot thinner than you talking about her 'flab'.  

So I absolutely believe that fat is used to shame women, and that what most women need to hear is not dieting tips but that they are beautiful and worthy of love just as they are.   Nevertheless, we have an 'obesity epidemic', with many of us considered overweight according to the medical profession.  So how does a woman take steps to improve her health without becoming a slave to fat-shaming; without listening to the gremlins that whisper in her ear that she's too fat to be loved?  

I guess the answer will be different for everyone, but I have found that Slimming World really works for me.  In my group there are people (mostly women) of all body shapes, and each member decides their weight loss target for themselves.  You can find out your BMI if you want to, but there's no pressure to get it under 25 unless you want to.  No one knows your weight except the volunteer who operates the scales: during the session, we talk about how much weight we've lost or gained, rather than how much we weigh.  I haven't been scolded on weeks when I haven't lost weight, just encouraged to think about strategies for boosting my weight loss.  We swap recipes and share tips.  I've found it very helpful to have the accountability of a group where I will be weighed - and therefore know what I actually weigh, rather than what I think my weight might be - and where I am encouraged to reflect on my eating and cooking habits.  There's a good balance between encouraging each other to take responsibility for our weight loss and unconditional acceptance of each other regardless of whether it's been a 'good' or a 'bad' week.  

Perhaps that's the kind of balance that we find in church when it's at its best.  Christians are disciples of Jesus, and a disciple is someone who is learning from their master and trying to put the learning into practice.  To be a true disciple, a Christian needs to make an effort to change their ways and to become more like Jesus.  At the heart of Christianity, however, is the knowledge that we are known completely, accepted unconditionally and loved extravagantly by God.  And I don't think he gives a hoot about the shape of our bodies.