Everything I know about being thin

My 15 observations about skinny life by an overweight woman

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TW: weight loss, disordered eating, eating disorders

Oh what a brave title! Oh what a lie. First off, I am not thin. Not at the moment. But I am not fat anymore either. Sorry, does that description offend? Look, when you’ve been as fat as I have you earn the right to call it that. If you’re thin, you’re not allowed. They are the rules.

Some of you may have been following my Mounjaro weight loss ‘journey’. Others may have been avoiding those posts and weigh-ins purposefully. I get it. Sometimes reading about others weight loss is not very good for my brain. Most of the time I can’t read about it because it’s a slap in the face that I know my knees would hurt less if I lost some pounds. On the whole it just makes me feel lazy and lesser.

But I want to talk about being thin today. Not about being fat. I want to talk about what it’s like to glide through your day without feeling shame and a reddening face when your bottom knocks a cup over in a charity shop. How freeing it is to break into a run and not feel your stomach slam up and down. The utter delight of being able to try clothes on in a shop without taking multiple sizes into the changing room, ever hopeful.

This year I have lost a total of 3 stone. The first stone ‘naturally’, i.e., with hard graft through willpower, the second two through taking Mounjaro. You can read about my week by week weight loss if you skip back through my posts. I have been spacing my injections out over the summer a little, not exactly taking a break, but plateauing. I’ve spent a lot of time with the kids, and not wanting to showcase any dodgy disordered eating I thought I needed to match some of their meals. And, okay, treats. So I put 1lb on over August. Which isn’t that surprising. I could barely get to yoga or my other exercise classes. Anyway, term has started and I am back on the wagon. I’ve lost 2lb so far. I’m about to go up to 7.5mls which I’m hoping will be my final MJ level. I reckon I have another stone to go until I am safely in a healthy weight zone. But really, despite being overweight in BMI terms, because I am tall, I look okay now. I pass as a ‘normal’.

I’ve been a normal before. I’ve been very thin before too. I’ve been so thin that people whisper about me and gossip. I’ve been so thin that other women ask me my secret. There is nothing more exciting to some than a very thin woman. It brings out all the freaks, both female and male. Especially male.

I thought I’d write down my thin person observations. I don’t trust when an always thin person writes this stuff. What do they know about being thin? They’ve not seen the other side of the curtain. (Does anyone else remember when Polly Vernon wrote about becoming thin back in the noughties? I mean, I loved the piece, being a thin-voyeur, but also she was a regular size to start with, so pah! Apparently she received a huge amount of hate for writing about her skinniness. People really dislike honestly don’t they?)

Okay, here goes. Everything I know about being thin, well 15 thoughts to be precise, from the perspective of a middle aged woman who has been underweight, obese and everything in between. Currently ‘overweight’.

1. Being thin isn’t accidental. It’s a choice. People who say they’re naturally thin aren’t eating three Big Macs for lunch and miraculously burning them off. They’re ordering a Happy Meal. At the age of 53. And definitely not choosing fries as the side option.

2. When I’m thin, if I say I’ve eaten earlier, I’m probably lying. Or talking about yoghurt. There’s a lot of this in the world of the thin. Meeting for coffee (black) is always preferable to meeting for lunch. Likewise, cocktails are better than dinner. Though they’ll pass on the pina coladas and order a skinny b*tch. (Fresh lime, vodka, soda water in case you’re wondering - tastes questionable but does the job).

3. Fizzy drinks, including fizzy water, aren’t just chosen for their satisfying sizzle in the mouth, they also fill thin me up. This is key to staying thin. A gurgling stomach isn’t the sound track I want as I swan about, all skinny and lithe.

4. As a woman, being thin has an odd and heady link to being child-like. It’s part of the holy trinity of non-greying hair, an unlined face and, yes you guessed it, slim hips. Youth! Let’s break down how that links to the increase in male attention that directly correlates with being skinny… Actually, best not to think about it.

5. Everyone says that being thin is aging. Thin people do not agree. They counter your slur with the suggestion that sharp cheekbones are very youthful. Plus, there’s always Botox. What’s a little ‘sharp scratch’ when you’ve put up with hunger pangs?

6. Becoming thin takes extreme mental willpower. It’s not an easy option. It means learning to say no in a kind but firm fashion. It means being the boring one. It means eyebrows raising as you decline pudding. This isn’t to say I’ve been a lazy oaf when fat, but my willpower and exorcising of boundaries is done away from ice-cream when I’m over a size 18. In short, don’t mess with a thin woman, they’re extremely tough.

7. Thin people don’t all see food as fuel. This is a fallacy touted by those who are not thin. Thin people aren’t robots without appetites for delicious morsels. They love food massively. They just like being thin more. This is hard to hear if you’re not thin. I get it, I’m not thin.

8. Being thin doesn’t mean you forget to eat. You still get hungry. You just enjoy so many other things that being thin allows such as being treated kindly by strangers, you are able to cope with the hunger.

9. Being thin doesn’t mean hating food. It can mean being a bit frightened of it though. At the core of every thin person is a fear that losing control could well end their thin reign.

10. In my opinion, one of the best things about being thin is doing the supermarket shop without people walking into you. Paradoxically, the larger I’ve been, the more I’ve become invisible. Go figure! A woman (thin) in the Asda dairy aisle once pushed her trolley straight into my thighs when I was fat. I skulked away, despite having way more right to be browsing cheese than her.

11. Being thin makes people kinder to you, chattier. They trust you more. Perhaps they’re not concerned you might nibble on them? I don’t know.

12. Being thin makes clothes shopping feel joyful. I can gauge my weight by how much I proclaim to hate shopping. On the flip side, if you want advice on shoes or handbags don’t ask a thin woman. They’re too preoccupied with pulling material over their jutting hip bones. When fat I’m a shoe and bag buying demon, for they never let me down by not fitting.

13. Being thin makes holidays a see-saw of emotions. More joy by the pool but less joy in the taverna. Of course I want to eat ALL the calamari. But I won’t.

14. Being thin makes men notice you more. I like this. It makes me feel alive. I know this is silly and I should know better. Please see point number 4 for further worrying explanation.

15. Thin people can be show offs. When I am thin, I’m more likely to raise my head above the parapet. Example; need a wee in school assembly? I’ll just trot out quickly, with no fear of being the annoying person who blocks your view. Bonus points if the other mums whisper ‘I’m a bit worried about her’ as I scurry past.

Disclaimer: I was an anorexic teen, I’m well aware that being extremely underweight is very bad for you. I’m also well aware that reading tongue in cheek pieces like the above are not why I stopped eating properly.