On Thin Privilege
About a month ago, I applied to speak at the Body Love Conference. This is a conference founded by one of my absolute heros, Jes Baker, and I just narrowly missed it last year. I was determined to attend in 2015, and since I’ve been kind of on a role with the whole public speaking thing, I thought I’d just apply to speak at it. Fuck it, I thought. Why not?
I applied to talk about body image and self-esteem and how blogging and social media can both positively and negatively affect how we feel about ourselves. Much to my delight, the proposal was accepted to go on to the next level of applications. The next step was to make a video, essentially explaining what I want to do and why and send it in. Easy. No problem.
The deadline was awhile away, and so I procrastinated. I procrastinated a little and then I procrastinated a lot, for many weeks, to the point where I had to ask myself why the heck I was procrastinating at all. Sure, everyone puts things off now and again, but I’m a go-getter. If I’m really putting something off for a long time, there is a reason aside from general laziness. I know myself.
After one conversation about it with a friend, I realized I was procrastinating because I was uncomfortable.
I was uncomfortable because in the past few months I have been thinking a lot about thin privilege- How I have it, how I benefit from it, how it is inherently EASIER to love a body that certainly isn’t going to be on a billboard but absolutely is considered publicly “acceptable”. The Body Love conference is an incredible thing with fat identified people and fat activists at the helm. I am a body love activist. Super Strength Health believes in health at every single possible size. But I am not fat.
If I know one thing about privilege, it’s that sometimes it makes sense to sit down and listen every once in awhile instead of talking all the damn time. If I know another thing about privilege, it’s that if I am going to talk, I should talk directly about the thing that scares me (my privilege, in this instance) and not something that matters much, much less (blogging and social media.) When I finally did make my video, I said that I only really wanted to speak if I could talk about body image, thin privilege, and positive alliances across body types. Because I have doubts that my proposal will be accepted (I did entirely change my topic at the last minute, which I imagine looks kind of flaky) I wanted to talk a little bit about thin privilege HERE. Because I don’t think I have directly addressed it before, and because that doesn’t feel fair to me.
I benefit from thin privilege every single day.
I have struggled so much to love the body I have. I have starved, I have thrown up and I have over exercised to change my form to something I might feel better about. I have lost 10, 20, 30, 40 pounds in an effort to feel small and light “enough”. I have gone to over a decade of talk therapy, fucked a bunch of people, tried to focus on how strong I can get. All in an effort to feel my body is good enough, and all with thin privilege. It seems paradoxical to me that I have feared my body so viscerally while moving through the world with relative grace and ease BECAUSE of my size (and education level, and skin color, and on and on.)
Of course wanting to physically cut parts of my body away was painful and difficult, and I have ultimate compassion for myself and everyone else who has been at war with their appearance. But for me, I know I must dig deeper. First I had to dig past the shame of my body and into the real reasons behind the shame (you know, the shit that has nothing to do with my appearance.) From there, it seems IMPERATIVE to contextualize myself with the rest of the world. I am privileged as shit. I can’t go on fighting the fight to have positive body image and self esteem without adding a healthy asterisk to my goal.
I AM FIGHTING EVERY DAY TO FEEL LIKE MY BODY IS OKAY*
*with the acknowledgment that my body is perceived as normative and society will likely sanction it whether I like it or not.
Thin privilege is being able to safely assume that people are not judging my food choices.
Thin privilege is fitting into most clothes, easily finding work uniforms and outfits for fun.
Thin privilege is never having people suggest I pay more for the space I take up. (ahem, airplanes.)
Thin privilege is my doctor telling me I look great.
Thin privilege is no one assuming that I am lazy or that I don’t take care of myself.
Thin privilege is fighting the fight to love my body, posting pictures of my form, and getting nothing but accolades.
Thin privilege likely allows me the space to do my work with Super Strength Health, for people to believe my opinions about what foods are healthy.
Thin privilege means I am not bullied because of my body.
These are just a few examples of thin privilege.
Having thin privilege doesn’t make me an asshole, but it does become a thing that I find necessary to be accountable to.
And now, the real question: how can we (not necessarily you and me, but folks with societally sanctioned “normative” bodies) use our privilege in powerful ways that affect real change across the body positive movement and the world? I have some ideas, but certainly not all of the answers. More than anything, I know this is a discussion that HAS to happen within the body love movement, specifically coming from thin people. The time is totally now, and I’m ready to get the ball rolling (or roll with the already-rolling ball if this discussion is happening elsewhere).
What are your thoughts?
This is such a difficult topic. I often see myself on the “border” of thin privilege; as a regular woman I am definitely thinner, but in my professional life (as a dietitian) I definitely see that people don’t entirely trust that I know what I’m talking about (I’m roughly a size 10). I think the first step is exactly what you’ve done here; acknowledge where we (might) have privilege and reflect on what that means for us. As for the next step? I’m not sure; I try to openly state that I believe in HAES, that I don’t believe in dieting, and use language that isn’t about eat like this to look like this or workout like this to look like this. I try to remain conscious of the words and language I use around fat and skinny and just generally be an ally. I’m interested to hear the other ideas out there.
Thanks for chiming in! Professionally is such a whole different thing than like, personally. I also am in a boat where some would say I am “thin” and others wouldn’t. I have been both bigger and smaller, and I’ve seen shifts of how people react to me both depending on what I am doing (am i hanging out or am i “on the job”) and my body size at the time. Heavy, interesting stuff!
Beautiful post on a difficult topic, Lacy. My first thoughts and feelings are: I have thin privilege. I have also experienced: shopping for clothes and nothing fitting, doctors and health professionals telling me I need to lose weight/I am overweight, being called fat by family and community, my food choices being judged, and having been bullied because of my body. And I have thin privilege, I know I benefit from that on a daily basis in almost every context. So to me, it speaks to the power dynamics of body shaming. I have the privilege, but I don’t hold the power of the privilege, because at any moment– because of my perceived gender, because bodies are seen as something that outsiders can identify and have opinions about, among other things– the power that comes with that privilege can be taken away by someone else. Not-enoughness is a pervasive feeling. So reclaiming power is so essential, and you are absolutely right: reclaiming power is easier to do when you have some access to thin privilege, or body ability, or when you can see yourself reflected in images of powerful people around you. And honestly I think fat activists and body love activists are helping redefine the terms of this power and that we all benefit from that work– and part of naming privilege is knowing that passably thin people like myself often benefit more. These are my first thoughts. I love that you are opening this dialogue on your blog. Thank you. <3
You are so smart Molly. I have gotten a lot of reaction to this post, both positive and negative, and I find that there generally seems to be a feeling of indictment for some people when privilege is discussed. But that’s the shit right there, a person isn’t BAD because they have privilege. Engaging in a dialogue about it is important because we need to discuss all the complexities you mentioned! I am not saying that every thin person will always benefit in all the ways thin priv. can benefit them, but certainly some of the things, some of the time.
I have to disagree on several of the ‘thin privilege’ criteria listed above. I AM judged daily on my food choices “Why are you eating a salad?!? You can eat a cheeseburger with no problem!” I am also bullied quite a bit about my shape and I want to scream every time I hear the phrase “skinny bitch” when I choose to eat a dessert or reach for a size small when shopping for clothes. I’m happy you have very supportive friends and subscribers, but the ridicule I’ve received for being in the “IBTC” or “not having any booty” is enough to make me feel that we as a society just like to tear down others to make ourselves feel better about our own situations. I for one would like to support EVERYONE in their journey for health and happiness and not fuss about who has it easier or harder.
totally! I want to support everyone, too.
Talking about thin privilege doesn’t mean i don’t love and support thin people in their body image journey or that i don’t think thin people struggle. As I said, *i* have struggled mightily. Privilege is less about my specific friends or community and more about systemic benefit and bigger picture stuff. Your truth is totally true AND I believe there is a societally sanctioned benefit to thinness.
I am seriously sorry to hear about those comments from other people, though. That is some bullshit right there. I support you and your body. fuck the haters, eat the salad if you want!
Interesting article and I must say I skipped over here from a blog I visit often, so I am somewhat new to your topic. I hope my words are of interest to you. I am thin. I have a shapely body. But due to breast cancer, I have no breasts and I choose not to wear breast forms. I can find clothing that works well for my body shape, although it takes work. I do not want to hide my body. I do not feel shame about it or seek to make others comfortable or even uncomfortable about it. It is my body and I accept it for what it allows me to do. I love it for helping me heal, grow and be the artist and woman that I am. As I was reading your article, I began to replace the word thin with breast, breast privledge. I often feel as though there are external pressures to cover up and make like I have the shape of a “normal” woman. As if it is my job to carry on as women have before me and to wear breast forms and make like I have breasts. I won’t do this. I can’t. I am uninterested. It does strike me that although there is all this breast awareness (please read this as breast cancer awareness), there are no clothing lines for single breasted or breastless women. I would love to see my body type celebrated, or at least honored among the awareness campaigns. But I think at least here in the U.S. that the focus is on getting women to embrace reconstruction, wear breast forms and quietly move on so that others do not need to see the dis-ease. And to step away from cancer and back toward body love, I think we forget the awesome beauty of being human. Society creates constructs, media over powers, the stories we come to accept lack connection to the raw beauty of humanity. Having a human body is a privilege, no matter how it looks. It always comes down to what we choose to -do- with our one precious and beautiful life.
Thank you for sharing your experience <3 I am always deeply touched when I find new ways to examine privilege.
<3 awesome. you are unapologetically you.
Hi. I’ve never been to your site or your blog before; my friend just forwarded me a link to this post with the following comment: “Absolutely brilliant. 1000x times over, hurrah, hurrah,” and since I completely agree with her (having now read the above), I wanted to tell you so. I am also thin (though I used to be “chubby”*) and I have a lot of thin privilege— which I see pretty well because I can directly compare how strangers and friends reacted to my eating and what it was like to go to the doctor and so on between the six years I was (kind of) fat* and the ten years that I have been thin. Quick summary: Big difference.
I am also a runner, and I have been an event director for a women’s-only endurance sports competition, and DUDE (as you probably know) there is some BULLSHIT in the running community— especially the women’s running community. This is an environmental in which very thin women (who are often also pro or former collegiate athletes) get to pat themselves on the back for (and make a lot of money by) telling less speedy recreational runners about all the “positivity” and “emotional well-being” and “joy” that “moving your body” or “sweating” brings and how running is “the best therapy” and “attitude” and what you “manifest” are everything. And it just makes me want to scream, because it seems so obvious to me that they GET that platform because they have thin privilege; that the discourse in which they are participating is effective (in building their brand and making them money) because it plays to women’s culturally-induced, body-linked self-loathing; and that it totally obfuscates the extent to which access to “emotional well-being” and “joy” are mediated by social privilege.
I’m not trying to argue that a person who is systematically disempowered cannot be HAPPY, and that our attitudes aren’t important in shaping our experiences, and that exercise doesn’t often have the effect of making people feel better and more empowered; rather, I’m pointing out that the particular unhappiness that is being alluded to in these discourses has POLITICAL dimensions, and it pisses me off when the people who are empowered by that politics use their power to deny that disempowerment is happening. Sexism and the oppression of fat people play a big role in creating the circumstances that drive so many women seek confidence and happiness through exercise and nutrition. I think it’s somewhat cruel for people who have an audience in large part because so many women are desperate to change their bodies to say that those women’s insecurity and unhappiness are, in effect, all in their heads.
So to see someone who is thin and is a wellness coach who supports body positivity actually saying, “Thin privilege is a thing and I have it and I think about what that means because it’s part of my job”— MAD PROPS TO YOU. That is so awesome and I’m just so happy that you are in the world doing what you do and being an antidote to the BS. There is absolutely room for people of ALL shapes and sizes to promote exercise and nutrition and body positivity… but those of us who have thin privilege need to be self-reflexive about what we’re doing and how. Thank you for setting an example that— maybe!!— others will follow.
___
* I am always hesitant to describe myself as “fat” because I wasn’t very fat— really more just “chubby”; my BMI kind of fluctuated around the line between “normal” and “overweight” (not that BMI means anything)— so I didn’t experience oppression to the degree that people who are bigger than I was would, and I feel like that’s important to say.
I love your response, Sarah, and appreciate your contribution here!! It was a joy to read about your experience and your thoughts.
This was a really interesting topic! Thanks for sharing. I’ve never thought of myself as having thin privelage, maybe because I am pretty tall for a girl with breasts that don’t fill out the blouse that has arms long enough for me unless I wear a padded bra or alter my clothes. Skinny girls also have trouble finding clothes that fit. Not all thin girls have the same body. Maybe you also have “average height for a woman” privelage. Women of average height can date more men, are considered feminine and petite even if they are voluptuous, and don’t get gawked at for being tall. Women of all shapes and sizes have body image issues. Thin women wish they were voluptuous, voluptuous women wish they were thin…and it really has nothing to do with their bodies. It has to do with their brains and the negative self talk we developed when we started comparing ourselves to someone we considered perfect or beautiful. However that came about, whether we were called bird legs, or toe head, or fuzzy face or whatever…we decided that we had to fix our defects and try to be as beautiful as possible. Men suffer from it, too. This blog and your talk are important because you don’t have to be overweight to have body issues, you just have to own a body and a brain that is not always kind. That’s about 98% of the population! So, thanks!!
Wow, you’ve given us all a ton to think about. Really great post, and good for you to bring up such an uncomfortable subject. As I have gotten older, body image has gotten so much easier for me. I think about all of the time I spent in my twenties obsessing about it, and I wish I could have that time back, and to tell that younger version of myself, to chill the fuck out, you’re beautiful, stop. I totally agree that we need to cross the lines the way you describe to come together to get all of us on the same body loving page.
Hi Lacy! Interesting to read your thoughts & everyone’s comments – the common denominator seems to be that we’ve all felt like our bodies were somehow not accommodated/celebrated in society, whether that’s due to weight, height, being without breasts, etc. In my case it’s (as you know) my gender presentation and hirsutism that have made me stand out as “other”, but that doesn’t meant I haven’t struggled with other things as well. I’ve usually benefitted from “thin privilege” – I say “usually” because I’m usually only 5 lbs. from being classified as “overweight”, but that “almost chubby, but not quite” weight seems to be where my body has settled for the past 20 yrs. As you pointed out, that doesn’t warrant many funny looks in everyday life, but it’s enough to have people question my veganism (for instance) – after all, aren’t all vegans supposed to be superskinny? *groan*
Not gonna lie, I have been feeling kinda grossed out by how a few of my social networking friends who are always posting articles about fat positivity and trans/GQ people but who, themselves, are both totally gender-normative and thin/uber-yogini-fit. There’s a part of me that feels like that just smacks of tokenism, because these people have never stepped even _remotely_ outside the boundaries of privilege, and they’ve all married cishet men who are just as “perfect” as they are and, in some cases, gone on to raise children who they’ve obviously assigned normative gender to as well. I know in theory that these people can be allies, but most of the time I just want them to shut up – it feels like a slap in the face every time they theorize about this shit. Maybe that’s my issue? Possibly, but I feel like there are a lot of people who want to appreciate difference from afar, but very few people who are ready to go into the trenches and either make choices that deviate from normativity or date/intimately relate to people who do. Obviously, that’s not a requirement, but at the end of the day it still feels like I’m living in a world where the freaks are on a trailer park on one side of the river and the norms are in a subdivision on the other, and there’s those handful of people who sail over to the dock every now and again to wave and say hello, but they’re so glad that they get to go back to their cozy nests of privilege at the end of the day…and mostly, lately, I want to tell them not to bother.
Thank you.
[…] On Thin Privilege <– I definitely relate to this odd dichotomy, and this is a very important post! […]