“She’ll never lose weight by taking the elevator.”

Equating health with appearance — that is, this notion of, “if you’re skinny, you’re healthy” — is an thought process that is not only very prevalent in our society, but also extremely toxic, for many reasons. It is a fact that no two people have the exact same body type, nor the same genetic and metabolic make up. Thus, two people who live the exact same lifestyles, eat the same food, exercise the same amount, may still (and probably do) have very different body types and appearances. Essentially, looking “fat” or at least not conventionally healthy or fit (read: thin) does not automatically mean a person is unhealthy or unfit. Moreover, someone who has a thin stature is not necessarily automatically healthy, nor fit.

Being “fat” or “thin” is no indication of anything other than the fact that society ascribes to arbitrary classifications of health within a binary that is largely western-oriented.

I am a big person. I am 5’10” tall, and considered overweight by most health professionals, as well as by people who are not trained in western medicine (or medicine of any kind) but feel the need to tell me I’m fat, anyway. I’m also a vegetarian, which leads to questions like, “Aren’t vegetarians supposed to be healthy,” which is code for, “If you eat only vegetables, why are you fat?” I get unending amounts of advice on how to lose weight, recommendations for gym memberships and more than my fair share of looks and whispers when I’m seen standing in front of an elevator rather than taking the stairs to go anywhere upward.

I hate stairs. I’m am also not the most fit person in the world, but that’s neither here nor there. Despite my hatred for stairs, however, I make an effort to use them whenever possible, even if there is an elevator available. The main reason for this is to assuage my own internalized fat-shaming and guilt about getting exercise whenever possible, or else I’ll never lose weight. Another, smaller reason is because, in most cases, the stairs are faster. However, there are days when I don’t take the stairs, and opt for the elevator instead. Like pretty much everyone else.

For example, I could be sick, and would need to conserve my energy in order to pay attention in class or be productive at work. I could be physically injured. I could have an invisible disability that makes taking the stairs difficult. I could even be going somewhere where showing up sweaty and slightly out of breath could look back or be frowned upon. There are a multitude of reasons why I would take the elevator rather than the stairs. No one except me knows those reasons just by looking at me.

It confuses me, then, why people feel the need to watch as I, a fat person, fair for the elevator, and make comments such as, “Oh, wow, she should be taking the stairs; she’s never going to lose weight by taking the elevator.”

Thanks, Linda, for your astute observations. If I live every moment of my life with the intent of losing weight, it’s because I’m told everywhere I go that thinner is better. It is impossible to live like that, though, and not to mention toxic, too. No one knows my life, nor the reasoning behind my decisions, except for me.

I can’t tell people to stop mentally judging people who are different than them (for example, fat people), because that’s an exercise in futility. People will think what they want to think. I can ask people to think twice about putting those thoughts into words, or actions. Comments like, “Taking the elevator will never help her lose weight,” are instigators of a national epidemic of eating disorders, self-confidence issues and even development of symptoms of body dysmorphia because of constant scrutiny from people who have no business judging anyone else’s life choices while their own lives are messes themselves.

So, with that in mind, watch me take the elevator the next time I’m on my way to class, because it’s available and I can use it if I want to.