The Cost of Existing in a Bigger Body

There is something deeply wrong with our culture right now.

And no—this didn’t start overnight.

It has been building quietly, then loudly, then aggressively over the last seven to ten years, until here we are in January 2026, living in a society where people in larger bodies are punished no matter what they do.

How can a culture obsessed with health punish some people for trying to heal?

Too fat? You’re lazy.

Trying to get healthy? You’re a spectacle.

In a gym? You don’t belong.

Eating in public? You’re being watched.

Taking medication? You’re cheating.

Choosing surgery? You took the easy way out.

There is no winning when you live in an obese body.

And somehow, that cruelty has been normalized—filmed, shared, monetized, and applauded.

Especially online.

The Gym Used to Be a Place of Self-Improvement—Not Public Humiliation

The last time I had a gym membership, I was in my twenties. I wasn’t thin—but I wasn’t carrying the weight I carry today. I could have stood to lose twenty or thirty pounds back then, sure. But I never once felt like I didn’t belong in that space.

I was shy.

Self-conscious.

Unsure.

But I was not unwelcome.

No one pointed cameras at me.

No one whispered or laughed.

No one turned my presence into content.

Fast forward to now.

Over the past two years, I’ve managed to lose over 100 pounds—and I did it without setting foot in a gym. I’ve wanted to join a public gym for a while now, but I’ve been too afraid to take that step. With smartphones and social media everywhere, I worry about becoming someone’s meme or the subject of a cruel joke.

It used to be all about the insecurity I felt in my own skin. But now, that insecurity takes second place to the fear of random cruelty—people who find pleasure in making others feel uncomfortable, regardless of their progress.

And honestly, that’s quite sad.

Today, people in larger bodies walk into gyms carrying far more than extra weight. They carry anxiety, trauma, and a lot of embarrassment. A lifetime of being told their bodies are a public problem that must be corrected—or hidden.

And instead of being met with neutrality—or better yet, respect—they are mocked.

Secretly filmed.

Turned into short reels for social media likes.

Posted online without consent.

All for engagement.

Let that sink in.

We Shame People for Being Unhealthy—Then Shame Them for Trying

Make this make sense.

We live in a culture that openly despises obesity. Calls it unhealthy. A burden. A moral failure. And yet—obesity is a medically recognized disease, often rooted in complex biological, psychological, and environmental factors.

It is deeply tied to:

• food addiction

• trauma

• body dysmorphia

• disordered eating

• nervous system dysregulation

• mental health instability

And yet, when people living with this disease show up—at the gym, at a restaurant choosing nourishment, at a doctor’s office asking for help—they are still shamed.

So what exactly is the expectation?

Because from where I’m standing, it feels like society doesn’t want fat people to get healthy.

It doesn’t even want them to exist.

Phones Didn’t Create Cruelty—They Weaponized It

Smartphones turned judgment into entertainment.

People are filmed in gyms without consent.

Photographed in airports while eating.

Recorded on buses, subways, sidewalks.

Their bodies dissected.

Their worth debated.

Their humanity stripped away.

And somehow, this behavior gets justified as “concern,” “health,” or “accountability.”

Society says it’s wrong to normalize being overweight and loving your body that way. But it never stops to consider that we need to love and accept our bodies first in order to heal and change them.

And while we try to find ways to do that, here they are—shaming those who are attempting to reach for health at every turn.

News flash: There is nothing healthy about dehumanization.

Women Are Doing This to Other Women—and That’s the Deepest Wound

Women have always lived under impossible standards.

Every decade brings a new version of “acceptable.” Younger. Smaller. Smoother. Less human.

The beauty, skincare, cosmetic, and wellness industries make billions convincing women that aging is a personal failure—and that there is a product, procedure, or pill that will make it disappear.

I know this because I’ve bought into it too.

I’m now 52 years old.

I’m a cancer survivor.

My body has changed.

My skin has changed.

My pigment has changed.

And still, the pressure remains:

Filter it. Fix it. Apologize for it.

So when women turn that same cruelty onto other women—especially women who are trying to heal—it cuts deeper than anything else.

We should be protecting each other. Empowering one another. Lifting each other up.

Instead, we are policing each other.

The Miami Story Should Have Outraged Everyone

A woman is turned away from a club because she’s overweight.

Told she must pay hundreds of dollars to enter—if she’s allowed in at all.

And her friends don’t leave with her.

They send her back to the hotel alone and continue partying.

That story should have ended friendships.

It should have sparked outrage.

It should have forced accountability.

Instead, it was shrugged off as “just how things are.”

If your social life requires humiliating your friends, that’s not a social life—it’s a hierarchy.

Weight Loss Is Not a Moral Test—and Medical Help Is Not Cheating

Let’s talk about GLP-1 medications and weight-loss surgery.

The shaming around these treatments is staggering.

“You’re taking the easy way out.”

“Just eat less.”

“Just work harder.”

“Just be disciplined like the rest of us.”

Who is us?

Would you tell a diabetic to stop taking insulin and “do it naturally”?

Would you tell someone with heart arrhythmias to ditch medication and push through it?

Would you tell someone with a broken leg to skip the cast and “walk it off”?

Would you tell a cancer patient to avoid treatment and rely on willpower?

Of course not.

So why is obesity treated differently?

Especially when obesity is often intertwined with mental illness, addiction, trauma, and neurological wiring that cannot be bullied into submission.

It’s so frustrating that every other scroll on social media is someone claiming their health journey is superior because it was done ‘naturally.’ Or that their gains at the gym matter more because they aren’t being ‘injected.’

This kind of messaging is literally scaring away people who may truly need help—too afraid to even start the conversation with loved ones or their medical team, simply because of what others might think. To me, this is just another form of bullying.

Why isn’t it enough to say we’re all working our asses off to become the healthiest versions of ourselves? Why can’t we encourage each other instead of pointing fingers and ridiculing one another?

Let’s Talk About the Medical System—Because It’s Failing Us Too

This part matters.

Not all doctors—but enough.

Enough stories.

Enough studies.

Enough lived experiences.

Overweight and obese patients are routinely:

• dismissed

• under-tested

• blamed

• told to “lose weight” before being taken seriously

Symptoms are minimized.

Concerns are overlooked.

Care is delayed.

This has been reported on. Documented. Studied. And many of us—myself included—have lived it.

Thinness is still treated as proof of discipline, responsibility, and worthiness.

Fatness is treated as negligence.

That is not medicine.

That is bias.

And it costs people their health—and sometimes their lives.

GLP-1 Medications Are Not Magic—and Surgery Is Not Easy

Here’s what people conveniently ignore.

If you are prescribed GLP-1 medication or approved for surgery, you didn’t just ask and receive it.

You were evaluated.

Monitored.

Diagnosed.

You jumped through hoops.

You proved medical necessity.

You entered ongoing care.

And once you start?

You still have to:

• prioritize protein

• strength train

• do cardio

• manage side effects

• regulate sleep

• manage anxiety

• monitor bloodwork

• hydrate properly

• change habits

• face stigma daily

Weight loss is often a side effect, not the sole purpose.

This is not a shortcut.

It is work—layered on top of shame.

The Cruelest Disguise of All: Backhanded Praise

“Oh good for you.”

" It's nice to someone like you in the gym"

“So proud of you for finally being here.”

“Look at you—trying!”

That isn’t encouragement.

That’s condescension.

It reinforces the idea that fat people are late to their own lives—that they owe the world an apology for showing up.

And if you recognize yourself here—if you’ve said these things without realizing the harm—this is your moment to pause.

Intent does not erase impact.

This Is the Line in the Sand

People in larger bodies are not brave for existing.

They are not inspirational props.

They are not moral failures in need of fixing.

They are human beings navigating a culture that actively resists their healing.

And if you are someone who films, mocks, whispers, judges, or polices bodies—especially in spaces meant for health and self-improvement—this is your wake-up call.

Because the gym should be a place of growth.

Medicine should be rooted in dignity.

And no one should have to earn basic respect.

If you saw yourself in this—and it made you uncomfortable—good. Growth lives there.

If you live in this body and felt seen—hold your head higher. You are not the problem.

And if you’ve been watching silently from the middle—now is the time to choose where you stand.

Because this isn’t a wellness culture anymore.

It’s a cruelty culture.

And we don’t heal by tearing people apart.