Woman on a Mission

Content Warning: This post discusses body image, eating disorders, declining mental health, and trauma surrounding societal lack of fat acceptance.

For as long as I can remember, I was on a mission. A mission to prove to the world that I did not need to be a certain body type to make my mark in the world. And possibly, a mission to prove my parents wrong. My parents spent so many years worrying about and lecturing me about my weight and my health, convinced that their own respective weight loss experiences cured their self-esteem issues and that once I joined the ranks of the Formerly Fat, my self-esteem would be fixed too.

But I didn't want to give in. No, I was going to prove them, and society, wrong. I wanted to do all and do it fat. The world was going to accept me at any size. I was going to invest in all of my passions while eating everything I wanted to eat. And I definitely didn't want to lose any weight before meeting any potential mates -- oh, no. If a potential mate didn't love me fat, that mate wasn't going to get to love me at all.

That's not to say I didn't do it all, by the way. I went to college, worked at Walt Disney World, earned my Master's degree -- Summa cum Laude -- while working 35 hours per week and commuting to Fordham in the Bronx from my parents' house on Long Island. I served on committees (any Glen Cove folks remember the 350th anniversary celebration in 2018?), was a board member of the Glen Cove Chamber of Commerce, worked on campaigns, and even originated a role in an original musical -- and earned my own song from the musical's creators. I met Anthony in 2018 and wouldn't you know it, we very much bonded over food. We got married in 2023 and I felt like... see, Mom and Dad? I didn't even need to lose weight to get married! Anthony loves me at any size.

Dani, my best friend from college, recently reminded me that no one doubted that I could do it all while fat, and I was so busy trying to prove it -- when it wasn't necessary. I prided myself on never letting my weight hold me back, even though somewhere down deep, I knew that this life wasn't the one I wanted for myself.

But not so long ago, I thought that I could single-handedly break the stigma of obesity. That I could join the ranks of Whitney Way Thore and Tess Holliday, warriors for the body positivity and fat acceptance movements. That I didn't have to lose the weight in order to be successful. The problem was, I may have been successful. I have stated before that I've been lucky in that I was never treated with any less respect in our Glen Cove community due to my previous size. I even got married. But... I wasn't happy. In fact, I didn't even know how unhappy I truly was.

I'd been convincing myself that I was happy for a long time. Or, that happiness didn't matter, and that accomplishments and success mattered more than anything else. What I didn't see coming is the realization that taking charge of my health IS an accomplishment -- an accomplishment that would make me happy.

I didn't want to admit how low my self-esteem was because I thought that if I did, I'd have to admit that I wanted to lose weight. I though admitting that I was unhappy in my body would be giving in to societal norms -- while my blood work kept getting scarier. I thought that the joy I got from food meant more than any joy I could gain from feeling good in my body and in my brain. And then... if I DID lose the weight... GASP! My Formerly Fat parents would be... RIGHT!

However, another part of the problem was that I wasn't getting any joy from food. Food noise had me confusing joy for addiction. For dependence. Humor aside, I didn't understand why I couldn't apply my legendary work ethic to intentional weight loss, so I actively decided to not even try, that my other accomplishments were enough.

At the same time, I wondered why I, as someone with a resume full of accomplishments, had little self-esteem. What I didn't understand that my body and my overall health and my lack of stamina WAS the reason why I had little self-esteem, as much as I faked it. But I couldn't apply that legendary work ethic to righting the ship -- because even my work ethic couldn't defeat food noise on its own. That's not to say I'm not applying that work ethic to my current journey, but in the past, food noise was so loud that it didn't even have a chance. Not to mention, I'd convinced myself that food was my reward FOR that work ethic. That I was so responsible that I didn't deserve to be in Food Jail ever.

Once I found out that I had access to GLP-1 medications, I surprised myself with my reaction to that phone call from my insurance provider: I burst into tears. Tears of joy, of relief, of knowing that I was finally validated. That I couldn't just "push myself away from the table," food noise made that far too difficult. That even my healthcare provider recognized the fact that I had a disease that did not give my "will power" a chance.

I really did want to lose weight; I just didn't know how I was supposed to overcome food noise in order to do so. I'd merely settled for what I thought was my only fate: staying fat. I don't even think I knew how much I actually wanted to lose weight until that day that my insurance approved me to take Wegovy.

To my credit, I wanted to utilize activism toward fat acceptance in order to make the best of my situation. I still wholeheartedly believe in fat acceptance and size inclusion. I think organizations like The Fat Con are groundbreaking and much needed. I still don't understand why some restaurants only offer chairs with arms. I still don't understand why the TSA agent working at Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport on October 8th, 2024, had to take my seat belt extender out of my bag and wave it around like he just didn't care. I still don't understand why the misconception exists that obesity isn't a disease -- and all of us who deal with obesity are just "fat and lazy" and have "no will power." But in spite of all of those aforementioned injustices, I realized that I didn't want to stay fat after all -- I don't think I ever wanted to. I realized that I'm not a Whitney or a Tess -- I'm a Remi Bader. I was about to become someone I once hated: a Former Fat Person.

Yes, I always said that I hated Former Fat People... but every time I saw someone make a post on social media about losing weight, I couldn't even acknowledge the tiny voice in my head wondering when it would be my turn. When would I ever be ready? And so I'd silently beat myself up, never telling anyone so not to add to my own humiliation or have to listen to unsolicited advice -- it felt like no one truly understood how difficult it actually was, including my Formerly Fat parents. How very wrong I was about that thought process; from the moment that I watched the Oprah special, I knew that there were people out there who didn't just understand, but were living what I was living. It was never a matter of whether or not I'd be ready. It was a matter of turning off food noise, which was never my fault, long enough to actually make meaningful changes. And, thanks to the Oprah special, my parents now understood that too. I didn't need to prove them wrong anymore because we were back on the same team. And no, I don't mean the team of the Formerly Fat -- I mean the team of those who understand how food noise actually works.

All of that said, a lot of ideas can be true at the same time. I can believe in fat acceptance and size inclusion and advocate for our society to be kinder to all fat folks, while also deciding that I don't want to be fat anymore -- and using a GLP-1 medication to help me reach that goal. I'm allowed to not want to be fat, especially knowing that not being fat is within my reach now. I'm allowed to receive treatment for the disease of obesity. I can acknowledge how very real thin privilege is (I've witnessed it in real time), while also understanding that body positivity that only includes fat bodies isn't really body positivity. At the same time, there is a difference between body positivity and fat acceptance. Much of this conversation is highly nuanced, and there is a place for all of it.

Yes, thin folks who have never been fat don't understand the Fat Person Experience, and I'm still annoyed when someone who has never been fat for even a day tries to apply their own experiences to mine. But, as long as I'm not pursuing intentional weight loss from a disordered mindset, it is my right to pursue it. I'm not "leaving the movement." I'm not going to stop advocating for fat folks. I'm not going to judge anyone else's body. Which reminds me: Aren't we not supposed to tell anyone what they can do with their own bodies?

I can tell you that didn't want weight loss to be my biggest accomplishment -- I wanted my biggest accomplishment to be the fact that I defied societal notions about fat folks. That's not to say that weight loss is not an accomplishment, but I've lost 70 pounds and suddenly, no one is talking about my Master's degree. No one is talking about the fact that I help my dad run a three-person business that does the work of ten. And no one is talking about the fact that I did those things in a much larger body than the one I'm in now.

Recently, I met a new Glen Cove-based friend who recognized me from social media, and commented on my singing voice -- and I was RELIEVED. Someone recognized me for something OTHER than losing lots of weight! However, some of the weight loss recognition is my own fault, and goes with the territory of sharing this journey on a blog and on social media. I didn't want to be the local "weight loss girl" and here we are.

However, I am still struggling with the realization that intentional weight loss, pursuing exercise daily, talking to others about my experiences and how to eat on a GLP-1 (no restrictions and everything in moderation!), have become full-on passions. Past Gracie would be shocked. If you told me at the beginning of 2024 that my husband would be asking ME what foods and portions could work for him as he pursues intentional weight loss and the lowering of his A1C, I NEVER, EVER would have believed you. If you would have told me back then that I recently woke up early on a Saturday to attend a free outdoor workout class (thank you, LevelUp Glen Cove!), I absolutely would have laughed in your face.

Last weekend's 9am Wellness Day workout class! Photo courtesy LevelUp Glen Cove

I'm happy that I'm inspiring others, but I wonder if I've earned the title of "inspirer." If I was never fat to begin with, I wouldn't have to inspire anyone. But then I think about all of the famous fat folks, like Whitney and Tess, who I am inspired by today. I hope that I inspired others in my previous body -- and not just in this one. I also think about how much I truly believe that obesity is a disease and food noise is something you're born with -- and if that's really and truly what I believe, a fat body was always my fate without medical intervention. I'm not only inspiring others to lose the weight and exercise -- I'm inspiring others by spreading awareness of food noise, binge eating disorder, and the disease of obesity. I'm breaking the stigma of the notion that GLP-1 medications are the "easy way out." And if I told you how many people over recent weeks have informed me that I'm "glowing," I might cry.

At the end of the day, I'm finding my way to becoming the person I have always wanted to be, even if that means that person lives in a smaller body than she did before. I'm still on many missions -- but some of those missions are different than the missions I was on before. I still am on a mission to do it all, but I'm also on a mission to feel better about myself while doing it all. I'm still on a mission to promote fat acceptance and inclusion, but I'm also on a mission to promote awareness of food noise, the disease of obesity, the stigmas against GLP-1 medications and bariatric surgery, and Binge Eating Disorder. I'm still on missions to have the best singing voice I can possibly have and to help my friends who are currently running for office get elected, but I'm also on a mission to work out daily as much as my schedule allows and to even participate in 5K races.

And so, Mom and Dad... you were right. Maybe you weren't right for every fat person, and that's okay too. But you were right as far as I'm concerned. Suddenly I'm developing self-esteem that I never realized was missing. I'm so grateful that you get it now. I love you both. Thank you.