Internalized weight stigma: When bias becomes belief
What do you think when you see someone in a larger body?
Conversely, what comes to mind when you see a smaller body?
Why am I asking this? Because these questions likely offer quick answers about how we perceive different types of bodies. And, therefore, clue us into our internalized weight stigma.
My ideas around weight didn’t start as my own, of course, but I made them my own, so much so that my fear of fat evolved into disordered eating patterns with one clear goal: to stay thin.
I’ve been in recovery for almost 20 years, but these types of credos take years to de-integrate. Sometimes I notice I’m still working on unlearning all the messages that instruct me to judge.
That’s why I want to explore this topic a bit deeper. In this post, I strive to answer:
What is internalized weight stigma?
Where does it come from?
Why is it so hard to get rid of?
What does healing look like?
Let’s dive in.
What is weight stigma?
According to Psychology Today:
“Weight stigma refers to the negative attitudes, stereotypes, and discriminatory behavior directed at people because of their body size, most often toward individuals in larger bodies.”
People may view larger bodies as a sign of laziness, an indication of low to no willpower, a lack of control, or a moral failure. While these preconceptions are culturally reinforced, they are not evidence-based.
Beliefs around body weight can be broken down into three levels:
Structural—These come from media portrayals, healthcare bias, and diet industry messaging.
Interpersonal—Comments from family, peers, teachers, and/or doctors can also serve as a basis for weight stigma.
Internalized—This is the transition point, where an individual may hear comments or read messages and start to believe them to be true.
When weight stigma goes internal
As the narrative digs in and buries itself, it also starts to take hold, not as beliefs, but as facts. The monologue focuses on flaws and failure, eventually turning a once-external issue into an identity.
When we turn weight stigma back on ourselves, the behavioral results can include depression, withdrawal from or fear of social situations, and avoidance of routine health assessments.
Meanwhile, we may start to act out on these beliefs, restricting foods out of fear of gaining weight, binge eating at night after a day of restricting, or using food to cope with uncomfortable feelings. This only perpetuates the cycle, leaving us stuck in a wheel of shame, hopelessness, and feeling stuck.
Personal Story: Fear of fat
As a kid, before the days of fast-forwarding through TV commercials, we were forced to sit through every single one. Hours of infomercials drove home the message that fat people were unhappy people, and that they could only feel happy once they were in smaller bodies (which they could achieve, of course, by buying whatever product was being sold). I was a thin, athletic child, so rather than trying to lose weight, I kept my eyes on a different type of goal—preventing weight gain. I would do whatever it took to increase my chances at happiness. And one way to do this? Stay thin at any cost.
Why is internalized weight stigma so hard to shake?
When we’re young (or, even when we’re older and succumb to the powers of marketing), our brains are malleable. They’re constantly latching onto messaging and forming opinions and beliefs that are cemented into our subconsciousness. For example, the way our brains understand that the alphabet begins with ABC is the same way they might comprehend the thinness = happiness equation—as fact.
In some cases, we may associate our body shape with our self-worth, especially if we receive compliments on our appearance. If we were to change our appearance, we might lose that piece of our physical identity, leaving us scrambling to make sense of ourselves and our purpose.
It sounds dramatic, but think of it this way: One day, we possess a long-held belief and are convinced that it is absolutely true. Then suddenly, this belief is challenged, and we must grapple with its new meaning. It happens all the time, but it hits a bit differently when it’s about our bodies, our worth, and ourselves.
How can we heal from internalized weight stigma?
So how can we unlearn everything our brain has collected over the years?
Question cultural narratives
As mentioned above, all our preconceived ideas about appearance and beauty come from somewhere. We’re not born with them—we learn them. So it’s possible to unlearn them and to question all the new ones that seem to incessantly flood the cultural zeitgeist.
It’s worth reminding ourselves that diet culture is profit-driven. The advertising that stirs up insecurity is designed to get us to spend money on products, to “fix” ourselves to meet a manufactured beauty standard. But what if there’s nothing wrong with us in the first place? What if our wrinkles, cellulite, and gray hair are just parts of being human?
Practice body neutrality
When we de-center our weight from our self-worth, we can start to see our bodies simply as vessels. They’re not symbols of our value or personality. They’re just a collection of cells working together to keep us alive.
It takes a ton of practice to adopt this mindset (I still work on it all the time), but with practice, we start to look inward and recognize the benefits we bring to the world simply by being who we are.
Cultivate an identity outside of appearance
One aspect of working toward body neutrality is discovering who we are outside of our bodies. What relationships, hobbies, and interests fulfill us and give our lives purpose?
A slightly weird approach I’ve used is to think of myself as a floating soul, not attached or belonging to any physical structure. If that were the case, where might my heart lead me? What might I seek out to feel joy? This usually directs me to hobbies or activities that light me up.
You aren’t the problem
As humans, we’re solutions-oriented. When we see a problem, we want to fix it. So when we’re told our crow’s feet or cellulite are problematic, the chance to remedy them gives us a sense of purpose. It ignites ambition to achieve and drive results. This is why we get little dopamine hits when we see our weight decrease on the scale or when we say no to dessert. Add exercise-induced endorphins on top of all this, and we’re deep in a pool of mood-lifting neurotransmitters that feels too good to get out of.
Until, of course, we’re drowning under the weight of constantly seeking dopamine hits. Eventually, we may find that what used to deliver them no longer does, so we need new sources. It’s a slippery slope, and it doesn’t end well. (I can attest.) But before we find ourselves fighting to keep our heads above water, we can walk back our learned beliefs.
Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me?” ask yourself, “What have I been taught to believe?”
Instead of “My body is a temple,” we can say, “My body is not a symbol of my worth.”
Instead of thinking, “My body is a problem,” we can ask, “Where did I learn to see my body this way?
The script playing in our heads can get pretty loud, even more so when we’re stressed, tired, or feeling low. But just because it’s loud doesn’t mean it’s true. Healing isn’t about fixing your body. It’s about questioning the story you were told.
Pause & Prompt
When/how did you first learn what bodies are “supposed” to look like?
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