The Weight of a Simple Suggestion

In response to a conversation overheard

I couldn’t help but eavesdrop a bit when I heard a shop clerk and her coworker discussing the store clerk’s interest in improving her self-care habits.

The clerk was doing a beautiful job going through a myriad of physical self-care behaviors, addressing things she’d like to practice differently with sleep, movement, and food.

The conversation got especially interesting when the clerk started talking about what she was going to have for lunch. It sounds like she had a few options and was considering what would make the most sense among them given her day, her energy levels, & her desires.

The coworker responded, “why don’t you just eat a salad?”

Of note, a salad was not on the initial list of options.

Of relevance, the clerk lived in a larger body and her coworker, a smaller. It took some superhuman effort on my end not to look over to observe the clerk’s reaction.

While the co-worker likely intended to be helpful, the suggestion of a salad was likely an all-too-familiar one to the clerk. This seemingly simple suggestion highlights a pervasive issue: the often automatic and weight-centric advice given to individuals in larger bodies when discussing health and well-being.

Compassionately wondering about her life, I wondered how often a salad had been recommended to her as part of similar conversations, and otherwise.

I wondered how many salads she’d tried, acutely aware of how much easier life would be in a smaller body, in a world that elevates people in smaller bodies and stigmatizes those in larger bodies.

I wondered what work she’s had to do to this point to make any sort of peace with this journey, or if she’s had that chance. I wondered what the true cost of that question.

I felt sad that she couldn’t have a conversation with a colleague about things she’d like to change to improve her health, without a reminder that the burden remains for her to take up less space, first and foremost.

I wondered how it would have been different if the co-worker had simply listened compassionately and asked questions about the clerk’s goals and experience to this point.

I’ve been the co-worker. For too long, I was complicit in perpetuating the harms of diet culture. I am still a work in progress.

 It is worthy work.