More or less. Give or take.
That’s what the scale said the day I took this picture:
At 5′2″ and 163 pounds, I have a BMI of 29.8. Not only does this make me “overweight,” but if I gained literally 13 ounces, I would officially be one of The ObeseTM.
The woman in this picture would have to lose almost 30 pounds to even be considered “normal” weight:
When you talk about the Obesity Epidemic, you are talking about me. (And probably yourself. And that’s okay.)
“Oh, but you’re an exception! When I say obese, I mean, like, you know– fat people.”
That’s nice– but that’s not what the BMI says. And the BMI is a mathematical formula, so there’s no arguing. Statistics that talk about the percentage of Americans (or whomever) that are overweight or obese include me. Not that it matters whether or not I am subjectively “fat,” being that “fat people” are, you know– people. And not so much The ObeseTM. But who needs “subjective” when you have a nice, “objective,” highly scientistic, evidentiarial-based formula derived from two important, health-related numbers: height and weight.
Speaking of which, this is the photo I am submitting to the Photographic Height/Weight Chart:
In that photo, I weighed approximately 168 pounds– more firmly obese, for those who find me to be wishy-washy in the highly precise, scienticianary field of Fatificational Studies. The dress is a size 6, and yes, it’s stretchy, but without the belt, it’s actually loose on my waist. But then, that’s me, I guess– an obese size six.
Thanks to a particularly long wait for the dentist, I was forced deep enough into US Weekly that I actually read an article. Kind of like when you swallow dirty pool water? This particularly trenchant piece of journalism featured three photos of Jessica Simpson. One in her Daisy Dukes, one in her Mom Jeans, and one at a recent concert. What caught my eye were the captions– “115 pounds,” “145 pounds” and “135 pounds,” respectively. Upon closer inspection, these were asterisked “estimates” from some Southern California doctor, apparently with a PhD in Bullsh!t Photoanalysis. A doctor who was, naturally, “concerned for Ms. Simpson’s health.”
And isn’t that what health is all about? A couple of numbers? Better yet, a couple of numbers I just pulled out my hind end?
In the green dress above, I was, at the same height, just four pounds lighter than Valerie Bertinelli was when she decided she just had to join Jenny Craig. You know– for her health*.
As Marianne at The Rotund demonstrated so plainly almost two years ago, you can’t tell how big or small I am by looking at me. And as Lesley at Fatshionista reminded us all just last month? You can’t tell how “healthy” I am, either.
My weight– unlike the weight of many far healthier than I– isn’t, you know, terribly controversial. But it’s not easy for me– someone who has struggled with an eating disorder since the age of six– to put my “number” out there. Which is probably why it took me so long to follow up on my original post**. The number of pounds I happen to weigh– it still feels like it means something, or at least that it should. Intellectually, I know my well-within-the-bell-curve weight is no more fraught with meaning or morality than my well-within-the-bell-curve height. But there’s still that vestigial voice– “Do I really weigh that much? Does this mean I’m bigger than I think I am? Are the anonymous commenters right? Have I really been falling out of my obviously undersized clothes? When I’m not being strangled by them?”
And, more to the point, “If the number really doesn’t mean anything, then why did I ever torture myself?”
You know– sometimes my little challenge seems pretty shallow, even to me. The entire idea is ridiculously simple, really– an unrevolutionary act hardly worth sharing with anyone who isn’t already heavily invested in my personal life. But it turns out that an act as simple as wearing the clothes in your closet is a lot more difficult than it looks. It hits me harder and dredges up deeper thoughts and more conflicted feelings than I ever would have expected. And on a daily basis.
On the other hand? It turns out that an act as simple as wearing the clothes in my closet has had a profoundly positive side-effect.
I refuse to apologize for who I am.
I’m putting myself out there in a way I never have– and on a daily basis. I no longer have the time nor energy to disclaim and hide and downplay and Sorry, But Maybe and It’s No Big Deal and Oh, Not Really and If You Say So.
I weigh 163 pounds. That’s who I am– a part of who I am. And I am not sorry.
*Results not typical. Rationalization, pretty much par for the course.
**Sorry about that, titilayo and seimei– you fabulous guessers, you! Your stuffed prizes will be on their way post haste! In the end, there were 13 guesses (discounting the one that pegged me at 5′6″) that ranged from 120 to 195 pounds. The average guess was 153.
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[...] Pretty Thoughtful: I Weigh 163 Pounds More or less. Give or take. That’s what the scale said the day I took this picture: [...]
Hoo, boy, I guess this is what folks mean when they say “the response has been overwhelming.” Thank you, all of you, for your comments. Who knew that a post on the Internet that said little more than “I weigh XYZ pounds” would get so much attention? What does that say about our society’s perception of weight, size and the unhealthy shroud of secrecy around it? Food for thought. (The puns, they write themselves.)
I do want to get one thing out of the way first. It would be easy for me, of all people (and TPY’s other contributors, who are shaped not unlike myself) to revel in the idea that “real women have curves.” But to me, that’s a crabs-in-a-barrel mentality. I do think that, for the most part, “real women” (i.e., all of us) are strongly encouraged not to have curves– basically of any variety– and that’s a problem with a long sexist, racist, etc. history. But as far as The Pretty Year is concerned, we’re all real women that identify as such, and like Leanne and Nixi and others pointed out, body image is no picnic for any of us. I could go on about The Violence Inherent in the System, but I’ll leave it at that for now. I think the biggest problem is that we’re all forced into the same or similar mold– and when we do fit it, we’re not good enough, or we think we’re too good for everyone else. Literally, we can’t win. Personally, I’m trying to stop playing.
I was nervous about posting this, and some of the nasty unpublished comments reminded me why. But you know, Lawyermommy, you’re right– it doesn’t matter how many disclaimers you make. No one reads them. At least no one who doesn’t want to read them– no one who has his or her own agenda or knee-jerk defensiveness to project onto you. It’s true that I’m not as unapologetic as I’d like to be, but I’m working on it. And amazing how someone who is not even saying “I like myself” (heaven forfend!) but just “I am trying not to hate myself anymore” gets so much blowback.
Megan– I don’t know if BMI was ever supposed to be a moralistic definition, but it certainly attempts to draw hard-and-fast lines using historically loaded terms, you know? “Over” what weight? Over “normal” weight. Based on… old insurance charts? It’s all so suspect, and I do believe its origins and the way it is put into practice are based in prejudice and very little in medical evidence, which suggests, among other things, that folks in the “overweight” category are the longest-lived.
I think it’s also important to recognize when folks cite statistics about the “obesity epidemic” and “skyrocketing rates of obesity” (which have largely leveled off in recent years, BTW) they are absolutely based on the BMI’s definition of obesity, a line I personally straddle.
Whackadoodle (and others)– wear those short-sleeved T-shirts! My challenge this year has been about not limiting myself. I started it in large part because the majority of the clothing in my closet had never, ever been worn. It’s a combination of a poverty mentality and a host of body image issues, but even though I STILL cringe when I remove a price tag, I’m so much healthier for having done it. Heck– I could never have made a post like this if I hadn’t started by actually wearing the clothes in my closet.
Which brings me to Xanz– thank you for your comment. Please do stick around and read more. I know the word “pretty” comes with a lot of baggage, but it’s my intention to de-bag it. While it’s true this site is focused on fashion and “beauty”– and that, personally, I present in the high femme spectrum– what we’d like it to become is one without limits. Pretty here is whatever your idea of pretty is (or isn’t). The Pretty Year is about de- and reconstructing fashion and beauty from the ground-up, as much as possible. It’s about questioning who is “supposed” to wear what, and why, and what it means about us. It might not be revolutionary, but we’re hoping eventually to tilt the traditional top-down, Great and Powerful Oz model of fashion punditry on its axis.
Not to be all high-test about it.
I’ll just quote Lucretia here, because this is what I’d like to see (and be about):
I’m starting to shut up the voice in my head that insists that, while everyone deserves acceptance and that a multitude of body types are beautiful, I’m the exception to the rule.
Amen– so be it.
Beautiful and much needed article. Goes to show just how much self-confidence and acceptance can affect not only how you view yourself, but how others view you. Women should take a cue from you-instead of wasting so much time worrying about the numbers and how other perceive you, work what you have!
You go, girl! I’ve been writing on the same things on my blog: “Fat is not a four letter word,” and “Fat and…”
We really ARE beautiful just the way we are!
I think it’s brave of you to do this post. The more we see different types of bodies being represented, the more that conventional notions of what is normal and what is beautiful are challenged.
But the post also seems to be framed more as “BMI is crap because people don’t look their category (I for example am a size 6)” and less as “BMI is crap because it’s a wildly inaccurate indicator of health”.
The BMI really is flawed. It measures weight and height but totally ignores fat percentage and muscles mass. I look more overweight than you do and I’m 4′10″ and about 127 pounds, with a lower BMI than you have. I also remember reading an article about *where* you carry your fat having an impact on your health. Like women who tend to have a pear-shape tend to be healthier, or something like that. I don’t know how true that is.
Now that I have that out of the way, I’m mainly commenting because goddamn, you have crazy curves. I’m a bit jealous. Damn.
Gotta say, Michelle, that photo of the husband would be my favourite too! Overweight? looks like his stomach is as flat as they come…
I believe the previous comments just about say it all.
I love your piece and it makes me proud to be a woman.
Thank you. Lately I’ve been feeling pretty shitty about myself even though deep down inside I know its bogus because what the mainstream acceptance of what a woman should look like is WRONG.
So thank you.
Nausicaa, Hey, sorry in advance for the novel, but I wanted to clear some things up for anyone still reading.
First, I’m sorry my opinion of BMI wasn’t clearer. I think it’s complete and utter cr@p. Absolutely worthless and having nothing whatsoever to do with measuring any indicator of health.
To be honest, I don’t think that I DON’T “look my category.” Because the ideas of “overweight” and “obese” are so subjective and arbitrary. I’m sure some folks look at me and think I look “normal/healthy” weight, many see me as “overweight” and a few even look at me and really and truly see “obese” or “morbidly obese.”
The problem is the way BMI attempts to codify and legitimize those subjective and arbitrary characterizations in a pseudo-scientific/mathematical (”objective”/official) hierarchy.
One of the intended points of this post was this: I think when people hear something like “30% of Americans are obese”– a stat that comes directly from the “official” BMI– they picture their internalized stereotype of obesity– usually headless fatties wandering around Wal-Mart with bellies swinging well below their cheap “America F*ck Yeah!” or “Gangsta Fo Lyfe!” or “I <3 My Baby Daddy!" tee shirts and a cart full of Guacamole Doritos and generic cherry cola, which they probably pay for with MY TAX DOLLARS(TM). And then their irrational anger and hatred redoubles, because they’re being told that 30% of Americans are that person, and it all snowballs into a self-righteous (and/or self-flagellating) rant on Those Horrible People and the death of Personal Responsibility. And they vote against their best interests (as people so often do) when it comes to health care, or public assistance, etc., based on this picture in their head– a picture which is constantly reinforced every time they see anyone who comes close to fitting the description. Because, you know– we tend to see things that reinforce our beliefs, and gloss over evidence to the contrary.
My point in this particular post was not to say, “BMI is only BS when it is applied to me, but not when it applies to horrible fatty-fat-fat-fats who weight something terrible like OMG 300 pounds!!!” I don’t care about myself or my husband, because we are not being heavily discriminated against because of our weight. The point of this post was that you cannot tell by looking at a person how much she weighs, or what size she wears or– especially– how healthy she is.
By stating my weight for the public record, I was hoping to do a few things:
-Demystify and debunk the ideas we have in our head about weight and size and health– particularly of women. 135 is not a magic number, (contrary to Wally Lamb’s imagination) 200 pounds does not (usually) describe a person with four chins and sixteen belly rolls and 300 or even 400 pounds is not (pretty much ever) the weight of a person who needs a small crane to transport her from bed to toilet.
-Further demonstrate that YOU CANNOT TELL ANYTHING ABOUT A PERSON BY LOOKING AT HER, especially a PHOTO ON THE INTERNET. That was the point of my original “guess my weight” post, in reference to Kim Kardashian. The fact is that I have received several responses here (and have read speculation elsewhere) that I cannot possibly be a size 6. No one disputed that claim before, but now that I’m saying I’m 163 pounds, suddenly I am lying about my (typical) dress size*. Not that folks could read entries like Size Chart Woes and see just how poorly a Size 10 or 12 usually fits me. Not that they could consider that I am 5′2″, and therefore how I look as a size 6 is not how someone of 5′9″ would look as a size 6 (but more how someone of 5′9″ would look as a size 10 or 12).
People freak out about this kind of thing– they have such a knee-jerk, defensive reaction and need to deny others personal experiences because, let’s face it– it’s threatening. It’s easier (in the short term, at least), to believe one’s body is wrong than to believe the system is wrong– even though you’d think realizing that your body ISN’T wrong would be vindicating. But you can at least cling to the illusion that you have the power to substantially change your body to fit the system. You’re used to inflicting that kind of pain upon yourself. What is daunting is confronting the system you’ve not previously questioned, and experiencing the pain and powerlessness of feeling like you’re only one person, and may not be able to have much of an impact on the system itself. You know what I mean? I mean, here is a post that says “I am proof [and honestly, I am not atypical or extreme in this regard] that you cannot tell a person’s size or weight or overall health by looking at them.” And I literally have multiple people responding to it by saying, “YES YOU CAN TOO TELL I KNOW BECAUSE OF MY LEARNINGS!!!” I mean… I can wrap tape measures around myself and take photos of all the size tags in my closet and submit my marathon race results and it doesn’t matter.
-I could go on, but hopefully I’ve made myself clear. BMI has literally, exactly two inputs. Height and weight. There is no magic in it. It doesn’t matter if the number is 5(height)+2(weight)/3.14 or height^weight-679. If folks want to defend its meaningfulness, they’re welcome to– but not here. To me and most folks with sense, BMI is no more valid an indicator of health than, say, an index that measures the number of hairs on your head. Because amount of head hair does generally correlate to age, and with age generally comes diseases of aging. WHAT THE HECK IS YOUR POINT.
You know?
*And I do think that part of why I am only now getting flak about my “too tight” clothing is this cognitive dissonance between 163 and 6. If I said I wore a size 12 or 16, I do believe that some folks looking at the exact same photos might not say my clothes look too tight. But since I “can’t possibly” be a size 6, for some folks, what would have only looked “form-fitting” before becomes “she can’t possibly walk in that dress.”
hey!
i just wanted to say i love what you have to say! it is SO true.
i’m in IB art and have to do an art show for my final mark, and i’m thinking of doing a theme on body image and stereotypes. i find it outrageous how girls have to be skinny and tall and lean and all that other crap that the majority are not. people are great and amazing and NORMAL just the way they are, and the fashion industry and suck it.
thanks for doing this, it’s awesome!
Whoa, that is a novel! But thank you for the substantive response. I appreciate it, and ITA.
Lisa, thanks, and good luck on your project! There may be some useful links hidden here on on our blogroll.
Nausicaa–
I think it was longer than the original post!
Thank you so much for writing this. I am 5′0″ and 155 lbs, give or take (I don’t weight myself nor do I really work out). Like you (based on your pics), I have wide hips and large thighs but a small stomach (I actually really love my stomach, which is pudgy but not disgusting by normal standards). It’s really sad that I’m refered to as “the fat friend” by strangers when I’m with my slimmer friends and it’s sad that people see me as disgusting when I know I’m not. I like myself and I won’t change for anyone. And when I say I don’t weigh myself, it’s b/c I dont’ want to weigh myself. I don’t need to. The numbers only serve to upset me and cause others to gasp in horror. I say screw em. Thank you for writing this!
I’m the same height, but lighter and I would KILL for your waistline.
I didn’t participate in the original guessing game, but this whole experiment was pretty enlightening. The way people carry weight (and not necessarily “extra” weight, either) varies so much by height, body type, fitness level, etc., and you are courageous to prove it by example.
I notice that I look quite a bit heavier than some other people who are my height and weight (or heavier) probably because most of my excess poundage is fat, not muscle. I am taller than you, but you look *way* slimmer IMO since you have such a teeny, defined waist, even though I suspect our hips/bust are probably similarly sized, and my comparatively wider, shorter natural waist and fluffier midsection can really make a difference in appearance as well as dress size.
For me, the BMI scale is pretty accurate – my “best” weight, when I feel and look fit, is close to or slightly above the middle of the “healthy” range, whereas I’m currently at the high end of “healthy.” But I’ve seen so many people who are VERY fit and look stellar but are way higher on the BMI scale. I really think it should just be used as a guideline, not one-size-fits-all.
(Not that I’m trying to compare our bodies or say one is better than the other, but you’re totally right that we *can’t* make assumptions about weight or size simply based on a photo!)
I didn’t participate in the original guessing game, but this whole experiment was pretty enlightening. The way people carry weight (and not necessarily “extra” weight, either) varies so much by height, body type, fitness level, etc., and you are courageous to prove it by example.
I notice that I look quite a bit heavier than some other people who are my height and weight (or heavier) probably because most of my excess poundage is fat, not muscle. I am taller than you, but you look *way* slimmer IMO since you have such a teeny, defined waist, even though I suspect our hips/bust are probably similarly sized, and my comparatively wider, shorter natural waist and fluffier midsection can really make a difference in appearance as well as dress size.
For me, the BMI scale is pretty accurate – my “best” weight, when I feel and look fit, is close to or slightly above the middle of the “healthy” range, whereas I’m currently at the high end of “healthy.” But I’ve seen so many people who are VERY fit and look slim and trim, but are way higher on the BMI scale. I really think it should just be used as a guideline, not one-size-fits-all.
(Not that I’m trying to compare our bodies or say one is better than the other, but you’re totally right that we *can’t* make assumptions about weight or size simply based on a photo!)
Hi,
All the way from Holland, I just want to say that your wordpress is def. worth reading. And eventhough you don’t need it:… you look good!
There r 2 many doctors with a degree in BS.
gtz. Annemiek
[...] the right bras.) But it turns out that you can’t tell a woman’s bra size any more than you can tell her dress size or her weight– the folks who naysay Bravissimo’s “real size” campaign notwithstanding. [...]
Girl, you hit the nail right on the head. Screw the “thin-dustry”. There is FAR too much emphasis on ultra-thin, toothpick-like bodies; and these are unrealistic as well as unhealthy. The standards used to “compute BMI” and “measure healthy weight” are screwed up, just screwed right the hell up – and these things don’t mean anything. YOU LOOK GREAT! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise! Who cares if you aren’t a size 2. I myself have weighted the same as you and believe me, I felt good, healthy, and attractive at that weight. YOU GO GIRL and thanks for this post~~~!~!
WRT body frame sizes: I’m close to 5′10, broad shoulders, large hands and (giant flipper) feet, etc. I read once how to tell what frame you should use on an “ideal weight” calculation site (where you put in your height, weight and drop down to small, medium, or large frame = an ideal weight range): Measure around your wrist using your thumb and middle finger. if they overlap, you’re a small frame; if they meet, you’re medium; if they don’t meet, you’re large.
Right. Because “large framed” people don’t also have large hands, to go with their large wrists???? According to their test i have a small frame. Not since never, honey.
Thank you. Someone on my lj list linked to this post and it was really empowering. Thank you.
Kate, you know, it’s so funny… I never thought about it until a few months ago, but that wrist nonsense never really made sense for me. I feel like I am/look like I am “small-” or “average-boned,” but my hand/fingers could never fit around my wrist. Then, suddenly, it occurred to me– I have really, really short fingers! I mean, ridiculously short. Shorter than literally every other woman I’ve met, including my tiny, bird-boned, 4′11″, Size 00 cousin.
It’s all so silly.
Thanks again for making such honest posts about yourself and women in general. I’m the same Rei that posted on “Size Chart Woes” just a little bit ago. Anyways, this line you said to someone in the comments caught my eye: …not even saying “I like myself” but just “I am trying not to hate myself anymore”..
Wow. I had to reread that and then say it to myself. That pretty much sums up the battle I’m having with myself. I may not yet be comfortable with saying “I like/love myself” but I DO want to say “I am trying not to hate myself anymore”. The ironic thing is that my lowest weight in my life (besides childhood) was during my junior year of high school, I was size 10 and felt absolutely horrible about my figure. Don’t we all love our huge hips, ladies? I stopped growing at almost 5′8 so I was in no way huge for my height, but because of the whole BMI system I was deemed very overweight. These days – at age 24 – I wish for the times where size 10 was my biggest enemy and laugh at the memory of thinking that was “too big to be healthy”. I’m currently struggling to get back down to size 16! Much love and good luck to you and everyone else on finding THEIR ideal body-image and the self-esteem that comes with it.
*hugs*, Rei. I think the first step for me was letting go (at least a little) of even *my* “ideal,” if that makes any sense.
I’m still in a bit of a struggle to accept my weight, but I’m not so different from you – at two inches taller and almost 10 lbs heavier, I’m right on the cusp of being considered obese. I typically wear a 10 or 12.
This isn’t the weight at which I feel most comfortable (that would be between 150 and 155 lbs., a weight at which I like my body, and also I weight I’ve naturally settled at in the past, despite the fact that it’s still “overweight” for my height), but I take good care of myself. I run and do yoga because they make me feel good, I eat well. I still hope that the additional 15-20 lbs decide to go away, but I’m starting to accept myself with them regardless, because you’re right – this is who I am, and there are much more important things to focus on.
I’m 5′4″, have small bones, large breasts, and big hips. It’s all genetic. Currently I’m carrying 235 pounds. What gets me is that when I was 17 I weighed 135 pounds and I fit in a size 12 pair of jeans. When I was 30 I weighed 160 and I fit in a size 12 pair of jeans. I had the feeling if I dropped to 130 I’d fit in a size 8 or something. So I figured that sizes are kind of ridiculous.
I have a personal trainer. When I told her my target weight was 150 she refused to accept it. She wanted me to get down to what my BMI says is a healthy weight for me – 115. I can just imagine what I’d look like at 115 pounds. I’d be a large breasted, large hipped, stick. It would be obscene! No thanks. But she made it sound as if I would not be a good person if I didn’t want to lose weight past 150. Now I don’t really want to weigh 235 pounds, but I don’t want to weigh 115 either, and why on earth is that so wrong?
Meems– I often remind myself of something I learned in meditation– “it’s like this.” It may be better in the future and it may be worse. It may be the same or different. But right now, no judgment– “it’s like this.”
Terra– I know there are folks who weigh 115 and are perfectly happy and/or healthy, but I feel you– I couldn’t weigh less than 135-140 unless I did something drastic, and even that is seriously pushing it.
[...] know? Your clothes are waaaaay too tight. Not that anyone ever suggested that until you said you weighed 163 pounds and wore a size 6. That cannot be! Because of course, a size 6 on someone who is 5′2″ looks exactly [...]
Thank you so much for writing this! I’m 5′4″ and weigh 165-170 lbs depending on the day and the time of the month. I wear a size 12 if I go to the stores today, but I still can fit in my size 9s and 8s from my high school days when I weighed 133 lbs average. I only worried about my size during to periods of my life, once when I was 16 and felt I was competing with my sister for boys (she was an athlete and almost a head taller than me) and then again about a year ago when my boyfriend kept telling me I needed to get in shape.
I’ve always gone on how well my clothes fit and how much muscle I have on my body compared to fat. I’m mostly muscle and have had my doctor tell me this. Now I do like to play a little game at the bar when I go and have guys guess my weight, telling them that they will not offend me as I know for a fact they will not get it right. The highest anyone has ever said is 150 when I weighed 180 lbs!
The media has us programmed to judge ourselves to critically and obsess about something that in a way is beyond ones control. Well, I’m lucky that I never fell into that trap and teach the young women in my family the same lessons I’ve learned.
Okey-doke I just want to pop a quick note here from a Biochemistry graduate. Please don’t beat up on SCIENCE for the way it is misrepresented and abused by journalists in the pay of the diet and exercise industries. They are the ones who perpetuate the BMI crap while the scientists are desperately trying to find a better way to measure what’s healthy body fat and when a good thing goes too far.
Science is not about making moral judgements but about finding useful, verifiable truths. BMI is a deeply flawed system which continues to be used because it is simple enough for even journalists and fitness instructors to understand and because it makes for big dramatic statistics like those you have quoted.
If you want to know how real scientists view most media stories on weight loss see here:
http://www.badscience.net/2005/09/dont-dumb-me-down/#more-172
As someone rightly pointed out, if you are muscular for your frame you will have a high BMI because muscle is denser than fat. BMI is a quick and very dirty way of measuring whether someone is carrying unhealthy weight but really there are a lot of other factors than height and weight that need to be considered.
The truth is that being ‘obese’ on the BMI scale is not a big health risk by itself anyway (I know this not only from my scientific background but from some time spent working in life insurance underwriting). The life companies will mostly ignore BMIs of up to 35 unless there are complicating factors like high blood pressure/cholesterol or more than one immediate family member with heart disease/strokes.
You look very healthy and well and foxy. I’m really pleased to know that you feel positive about your body. That will stand you in much better stead health-wise than yo-yo dieting which puts a serious strain on the heart, liver, kidneys, endocrine system and mental health.
This is the *real* health danger for most women who are considered BMI-wise ‘overweight’.
Science Gal, thanks for your comments. I would never blame science for something that’s not scientific! (My scientist/doctor mom would disown me.) At best, BMI is mathematics, not science. That’s why I made reference to “scienticians” and the whole thing being “scientistic.” It’s pseudo-science, as you are well aware. Correlation =/= causation, etc., etc.
I totally appreciate the compliments, but the funny thing is, I’m not sure I look either healthy or unhealthy. I also got comments (not approved) that told me “OKAY FINE YOU’RE NOT FAT BUT YOU’RE STILL OBVIOUSLY UNHEALTHY.” I’m pretty sure no one can tell from my photos/posted weight (nor can anyone tell by looking at just about anyone else) whether I am healthy or unhealthy. I purposefully didn’t say anything about my health, how many marathons I’ve run (all when I was about 30 pounds heavier, BTW), and yet loads of people completely missed the point.
Thank you for writing this post and please don’t ever change!
You are overweight! That’s all! I ride my bike to work EVERY day, and workout at the gym…I weigh 136 lbs. And yes, muscle does weigh more than fat!
@Sharon?
Did you mean for your comment to come across as thoughtless?
Rebecca, we had a whole slew of questionable comments accidentally get approved yesterday. This one is kinda ambiguous, so I let it stand, but, yeah.
Huh. It is kinda ambiguous; I just don’t understand why some folks are hell-bent on making other people feel badly about their bodies. It doesn’t make sense, and that type of thinking (body-shaming) doesn’t help anyone.
I hope that’s not what Sharon was trying to do…
Nothing new to add. You know I admire your bravery. And you so remind me of the hot redhead chick on Mad Men.
The only questions about body weight that should ever be asked:
1) Are you healthy?
2) Are you happy?
Answer yes to these two questions and NOTHING more needs to be done, said or argued about.