My Story
I didn’t come to see myself as fat on my own—like many, I was taught. From an early age, both kids and adults made it clear that my body was a problem. Whether it was teasing on the playground, backhanded comments from adults, or “friendly” advice from peers, the message was always the same: there’s something wrong with your body, and it’s up to you to fix it.
By the time I was nine years old, I had fully internalized this message. It sowed a seed of shame which took root and grew into depression. I blamed myself—for my body, and for how I felt inside it. I thought if I could just eat better, try harder, be better, I wouldn’t be fat. And if I wasn’t fat, I would be happy.
Then one day, at 19, while sitting on my couch watching the then new HBO drama Euphoria, something shifted. There’s a scene where Kat, a confident, self-identified fat girl says:
“My whole life, all I’ve tried to do is take up less space… I spent my whole life afraid people were going to find out that I was fat. But honestly, who gives a s***. There’s nothing more powerful than a fat girl who doesn’t give a f***.”
Seeing a confident fat character address her own fatness without shame started me on a path to healing. It made me ask myself:
What if being fat isn’t a manifestation of my failures? What if it’s just…a part of me?
To find out if this was possible, I had to ask more questions.
Why are people fat?
Stereotype tells us that the answer was simple: They must be lazy. Undisciplined. Unhealthy. This assumption is part of what made me feel ashamed about my body.
The truth is far more complex. While the common advice is “calories in, calories out,” the reality is that body size is influenced by many factors beyond our control. Genetics, for example, plays a significant role—research from Harvard suggests that 25% to 80% of body size variation can be attributed to genetic factors. For people who have been fat since childhood and have fat immediate family members, genetic influence may be a more relevant factor. In-utero exposures, hormone levels, medications, and chronic stress can all contribute, too.
So why do people insist that fat is a failure of willpower? Different people have varied reasons. Many people just don’t know because this narrative is all they’ve been taught. The few saying it the loudest often want to make money in the weight loss industry. For others, it’s to maintain a sense of control of their own bodies. For these people, blaming fatness solely on willpower reassures them that they can avoid ever becoming fat.
This narrative keeps people stuck. It blames individuals for their physical differences by flattening an entire demographic into one homogeneous stereotype.
What does ‘fat’ even mean?
The medical world usually describes and measures fatness in terms of a person’s Body Mass Index (BMI) a scale that does not account for the proportions of bone, muscle, or fat, waist size, or the metabolic variations between individuals. Even the creator of the BMI scale expressed that it was not made to measure the fatness or health of an individual.
But that’s not as important when it comes to what fatness means to fat people and the people who perpetuate fatphobia. No one has ever checked my height and weight before labeling me as fat.
It’s not necessary because fatness is a social construct like gender and race. That means, that its definition, perception, and meaning are shaped by societal norms, values, and power structures. But that also means that the label is not fixed. The meaning of the word can be changed by society and, in part, by you. Over time, it can shift. It can expand. It can even empower if we let it. The process has already started. I’m far from the first person to use fat as a neutral term.
You might think fat was a bad word, used exclusively to insult yourself or others. That’s understandable. When people use the word fat, it’s often loaded with feelings of hate, fear, and shame. Maybe you like the words ‘curvy’ or ‘plus-sized’ better. There’s nothing wrong with using the words you’re most comfortable with when describing your own body.
However, to many people, there is something especially powerful about reclaiming fat as a neutral or positive descriptor. It can transform a term used to shame into one of self-definition, breaking the link between body size and worth. It can make room for self-acceptance and self-love. It can open the door to community and solidarity. It can be a tool with which people can resist a culture that profits from body insecurity.
To me, reclaiming fat is about naming myself on my own terms. It doesn’t mean I love or hate my body—it just means I refuse to be ashamed of existing in it.
How does growing up fat affect mental health?
For many children, growing up in a larger body can mean more than just feeling different—it can mean being singled out and targeted. Research shows that children categorized as obese are three times more likely to be bullied, particularly through verbal harassment. This type of bullying can have lasting effects on self-esteem and mental health.
Over time, repeated negative messages about body size can become internalized. Children may begin to associate their worth with their appearance, believing that being fat means being flawed or unworthy. This internalized stigma can contribute to the development of anxiety, depression, and low self-worth.
Family dynamics often play a role as well. Studies have found that when parents discuss weight with their children, the focus tends to be on negative outcomes—either physical health risks or social consequences. These conversations, even when well-intentioned, can reinforce the idea that body size is a personal failing and something to be ashamed of.
The result is a harmful cycle: shame about body size contributes to mental health struggles, and those struggles can make it even harder to engage in self-care or reach out for support.
What breaks the cycle?
If you’re struggling with the emotional toll of growing up fat, you’re not alone. And you don’t have to unpack it all by yourself.
The mental health effects of growing up fat often linger well into adulthood. Anxiety and depression don’t always disappear, even if your body changes—and for many, the stigma and bullying continue when the fat stays. Over time, it can evolve into serious discrimination in areas like healthcare, employment, and relationships. Research shows that this kind of weight-based stigma is linked to higher rates of depression and anxiety, even in adults.
Healing begins with support. Therapy can help you challenge harmful thoughts, practice self-compassion, and build a more positive, resilient self-image. It’s not about changing your body—it’s about changing how you see yourself and learning to accept who you are right now.
Movements like Health at Every Size, Fat Acceptance, and Fat Liberation offer community and a powerful counter-narrative to the shame so many grow up with. They remind us that health looks different for everyone, that fat bodies are not broken, and that nobody’s worth is size-dependent.
If you take any of this with you on your journey in life, let it be this message from one fat person to anyone who needs to hear it:
You deserve to take up space.
You deserve to feel at home in your body.
You deserve to heal.
Sources and Links for Further Exploration
https://www.health.harvard.edu/staying-healthy/why-people-become-overweight
https://naafa.org/
https://www.npr.org/2009/07/04/106268439/top-10-reasons-why-the-bmi-is-bogus
https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0277953614005413
https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/25214239/
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC9590666/
https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2021-80545-001
https://www.lgbtqandall.com/how-anti-fat-bias-can-create-poor-mental-health-outcomes/
https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/27748611/