Often, when it comes up in conversation that I research obesity, someone will say something like ‘oh, but that isn’t a worry for you, you’re so skinny.’ I usually swallow my annoyance and change the subject, but lately I’ve been wondering about the logic behind this statement. Why is it necessary for someone to comment on my body size in relation to my research? Would they say that if I was a man? If I was big?
For reference: I’m not a big person, I never have been, nor am I particularly skinny. I am, at 52kg and 161cm tall, completely, totally, top-of-the-bell-curve average. Actually, a few people, one of them a judge at a powerlifting competition I was participating in, have commented that I look like I should be heavier than I am, which means I must be made of balsa wood or something. Still. Being average, I have the luxury of forgetting my body most of the time. I am neither totally invisible nor painfully visible, and I acknowledge that privilege.
Body size caveats aside, here are some reasons why someone might remind me that I am not obese when I talk about my work:
(1) They assume I’m motivated by some kind of unresolved body image issues. It bothers me that, when discussing body size, all women are assumed to be sensitive about their size, or holding on to painful delusions about how big they are. When I was younger I had some textbook insecurities about my body size, but they were resolved by, without meaning to be crude, sleeping with enough people to reassure myself that, yes, people I’m attracted to will consent to have sex with me, and weight training. My body isn’t perfect; I definitely could stand to lose some fat and gain more muscle, but I don’t ever think I’m ‘fat.’ The point is I’m an adult, and my insecurities have shifted on to more uncertain objects than the size of my bum, and I’d wager there are plenty of other adult women out there largely unconcerned about their size. Can’t we also assume that body dysmorphia afflicts a few unfortunate and troubled people, rather than all women all the time always?
(2) They are making a pointed comment about a woman who is not ‘of size’ presuming to do scholarship on such a sensitive topic. Which… I’ll cop. Kind of. I’ll readily acknowledge my partial perspective as a person in the kind of body that, at least visually, largely escapes the kind of surveillance and discipline fat acceptance activists attempt to resist. But. But. I refuse to accept that this precludes me from producing rigourous scholarship about fat. Moreover, and bear with me, if someone assumes that my body size somehow affects my scholarship on fat, then they’re also making assumptions about what a feminist project on fat must look like. My thinking is this: if someone believes my size affects my research, they must also assume that my project must be about the questions of trauma, sex, representation, identity and affect that concern fat studies. While I acknowledge the contributions of fat studies, my project is decidedly outside of fat studies. Increasingly, my project is located in feminist studies of science; fat is my object, but it is not my main concern.
(3) They are giving me a compliment. My mother raised me to accept compliments graciously and move on, but I think complimenting someone on their size is rather unpleasant, as it implies that people should be congratulated for being not-fat. Which is a bit nasty, really.
I made some tacos the other night with black beans and something the local organic store called Tuscan cabbage. They were delicious, especially with the contrast between salty, sour feta, sweet onions and bitterish greens. This is still a food blog, right?
Black bean tacos with feta and dark greens
Adapted from Serious Eats. Serves 2-3
- 2 tbsp olive oil
- A small onion, halved and thinly sliced pole-to-pole
- 3 cloves garlic, smashed
- 1 tsp ground cumin
- A tin of black beans if you can find them, drained
- A bunch of Tuscan cabbage, or kale, or chard, or silverbeet, or other toothsome dark leafy green, washed, stems removed, roughly chopped
- 80g feta, grated (highly recommended) or crumbled
- An avocado, pitted and cubed
- 8-10 corn tortillas
Heat the oil in a large heavy pan over medium heat. I used my big cast iron Le Creuset, to accommodate the mass of greens. Add the onion and cook gently until translucent, around 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cumin and give it another three or so minutes. Add the mass of greens. You might like to put the lid on for a minute or two to let the greens sweat and reduce in bulk. Turn until coated in oil and the onion is thoroughly incorporated. Add the beans and turn until everything is combined and sweated down.
Warm the tortillas in a frypan. Spoon in a little of the bean mixture into each tortilla, sprinkle with cheese and avocado, fold up and eat with no concern for the size of your arse.
