WARNING: This post contains discussions of eating disorders.
As soon as the words came out of her mouth I felt my blood boil in a way that it never had before; “you’re too fat”. Three simple words that were said in nothing more than a joking context by a work colleague at the time.
I had never been fat-shamed before and it took all of my energy not to smack her right across the smug face or burst into tears. Not only was I furious because, as everyone knows, it’s never appropriate to joke about someone’s weight, but also because at the time I had spent the last six months in the downward spiral of an anorexia relapse.
READ: “The worst fight I’ve ever had with my parents was over how my dinner would be cooked.”
Those three words sent my undernourished brain into a tailspin. At the best of times my thoughts were all over the place and I couldn’t tell where Madelaine finished and anorexia began but, in that moment, I felt as though I had been punched in the stomach. I was frozen.
While I angrily vented to a number of people throughout the day during which I received reassurance that it wasn’t true, I couldn’t help but be furious that someone had voiced my biggest insecurity. It was like going on X Factor only to find out you are tone deaf.