She discusses going to doctors as rarely as possible because “doctors only see and diagnose my body,” highlighting the humiliation when a doctor’s office is ill-equipped for her body. In all such instances, she describes how this shame was harmful as she attempted to pursue a positive relationship with food, exercise, and her body. Gay intricately describes situations in airports, doctors’ offices, clothing stores, grocery stores, and other public spaces where she has felt shame. Most notably, Gay offers some experienced wisdom related to what has NOT worked to promote healthy body image and behaviors, namely shame. In many ways, their struggles reflect ongoing discussions on the utility (and often experienced futility) of weight loss efforts, along with how messages designed to promote health, even from well-meaning family members and friends, may also carry the potential of increasing weight stigma and risk for unhealthy weight control behaviors. Both Gay and Brodesser-Akner express the frustration of countless weight management attempts throughout their lives, ultimately championing movements of radical body acceptance and Health at Every Size ( HAES®), but hedging somewhat on these approaches with a desire to care for their body in a way that will also support longevity and quality of life.
As Gay discusses her history with dieting, I was reminded of a recent piece, “ Losing It in the Anti-Dieting Age,” in the New York Times by author Taffy Brodesser-Akner. Gay often highlights the shame associated with living in her body, and speaks to the complex relationship that she has with body acceptance and weight management. She discusses her plans to gain weight in an effort to hide from the world after an experience of sexual abuse as a child, followed by a heart wrenching account of living in what she sometimes terms an “unruly” body.
Gay explains in detail the experience of living in a large body as a Black, queer woman in America. In the genre of memoirs about food and eating, Professor Roxane Gay’s recent release “Hunger: a Memoir of (my) Body,” provides a much needed perspective.