“Wow, You’ve Lost So Much Weight”: Compliment?
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Just 10 Pounds.
A couple weeks ago, I posted a video that I dubbed “Perimenopausal Cooking.” It was meant to be a tongue-in-cheek recipe “how to” for kimchi jjigae, while also grousing about my recent experience with “the great change.” Many women commented with solidarity and their own experiences with pre-menopause, often providing very thoughtful and honest advice about how to manage things like night sweats, earth shattering fatigue, and hot flashes.
One comment I didn’t expect, though, was this one:
“Wow, I haven’t seen you on my feed for a long time. I didn’t recognize you at first. You’ve lost so much weight. I can tell by how skinny your face is. You’ve always been a marathon runner. What are you doing differently?”
I was caught so off guard by this comment, I didn’t know how to respond.
As I’ve talked about ad nauseam, with the exception of the last 10 years, I literally cannot remember a time in my life when I was not told to lose weight. Starting from when I could remember, I was made to understand that my body was excessively “chubby” and that I would be so much more lovable if I could lose “just 10 pounds.”
The phrase “just 10 pounds” was a refrain in my life. Shopping for clothes at TJ Maxx, I’d hear it murmured at the clothing racks; when helping myself to a second bowl of rice, I’d hear it whispered at my back from the dinner table; and once, I was put on a call with my mother’s work colleague, a woman who’d promised to help her daughter (me) lose those “just 10 pounds” once and for all. I imagined that on the other side of it lay a magical universe of opportunity, value, and self-confidence. If only I could figure out a way to shed myself of this scourge, this awful thing that was blocking my path towards success and love.
But I failed. Like, big time.
Not only did I never manage to lose those “just 10 pounds,” in college, I gained another “just 35 pounds.” I went from being “chubby, but cute” to plain old “fat.” My body size became a regular topic of conversation in my family, so much so that an aunt I hadn’t seen in awhile greeted me at the front door with “oh my goodness Sunyoung when did you get so fat?”
So, I did what any normal person would do in that situation. I hit the panic button. Started eating only one meal a day and exercising 4 times a week. Within a few months, I’d lost a lot of weight. And my family was very pleased–my parents constantly complimented me on how much weight I’d lost, how good I looked.
One afternoon, my uncle–a very reserved and taciturn man–came over to my parents’ house to repair a few things (he was a contractor). I was running on the treadmill in the family room while watching TV. He finished up what he was working on and was about to walk out the front door when he paused, almost as if he was debating whether to say anything at all. Then, he turned around and yelled, so that I could hear him over the TV and treadmill,
“Sunyoung–you look really good. Good job.”
Then, he turned around and proceeded out the door.
Prior to that moment, my uncle had probably said a sum total of 17 words to me. As such, I was totally floored, elated, and, yes, proud. I was so proud that all the work I’d been putting in towards shrinking myself had elicited a comment from a man who never says anything, much less something as gratuitous as a compliment. Surely, this must mean that eating only one meal a day and spending hours on a treadmill was good, right? It was as good as the behavior that caused my aunt to say, “oh my goodness Sunyoung when did you get so fat?” was bad, right?
Fast forward a year later: I could no longer sustain the “one meal a day and treadmill 4 times a week” diet plan and I gained all the weight back and then some. And you know which comment I shrank from? The one that caused me to stay up at night? Not the one from my aunt calling me fat.
It was the one from my uncle.
I could not stop wondering, if “skinny Joanne” was good enough to inspire admiration from this man, what did “fat Joanne” inspire from him?
The implications embedded in my uncle’s very well-intentioned compliment… they rebuked me. They tortured me. I would go to family functions assuming that my uncle, my aunts, my grandmother, my cousins, that all of them were thinking the same thing:
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at her. So weak. So disgusting. She couldn’t keep it off.”
I said nothing in response to the comment on my Instagram. I thought, for a moment, about blaming it on the glasses I wore in the video–a trick I learned from one of my many plastic surgeons (“Clever,” he’d said as he removed them from my face when I asked him to suck the fat out of my cheeks. “These make you look leaner.”) But I didn’t want to be dishonest. The truth was, yes, I’d lost some weight. Maybe a lot, maybe a little–I don’t weigh myself, so I’m not quite sure how much. But, as I’ve talked about before, I’d undertaken rather drastic measures to make myself “presentable” in the lead up to the big Korea trip from earlier this summer.
By “drastic measures,” of course, I mean “toxic measures,” I mean “unhealthy measures.” I will leave it at that, so as to avoid triggering anyone struggling with eating disorders themselves. Twenty years ago, I would not have known that accepting a compliment of this nature would cost me; but sitting here today, after over a decade of therapy, I am well aware that saying “thank you,” even internally, will carry me past the point of no return: it would mean that I endorsed the behavior that led to my smaller body and led to the “compliment.”
Hence, I cannot cash this check.
It also meant that when my body inevitably changes, once more, when it grows a little larger as perimenopause continues to wreak havoc on my hormones or as my legs and feet simply grow too tired from all the miles they’ve eaten, I will owe a debt.
And you know what they say about immigrant children:
WE HATE DEBT.
My therapist was always very careful to avoid reinforcing my disorder with anything that resembled a compliment that could somehow relate back to my size. She did, however, admit that I “have a lot of discipline, like superhuman levels of discipline.” That’s where things get tricky. There are many good qualities that can aid a person in bad behavior (e.g., the “evil genius”).
I think many people, including some of my well-meaning friends, think they are complimenting me for my commitment and discipline when they say things like, “GIRL you are looking so SKINNY these days!!” And of course, how could they know that my discipline had been used in ways that might look “healthy” but were, in fact, quite damaging? For that matter, how could they know that my “skinny body” was not actually the result of some debilitating illness? Depression? Or Ozempic?
Does that mean that talking about someone’s body size is always off limits? No. If the person wants to talk about it, if they open the door to that conversation (sorry, lawyer coming out in me…) then it’s clearly “within limits.” In certain extremely rare circumstances when you have incontrovertible evidence that a person’s size is directly related to a potential life or death illness, then it may make sense to broach a very tough conversation about a loved one’s size. But even then, I would proceed with utmost caution and with the advice of a trusted medical professional.
Other than that, I don’t think the good intentions behind the “compliment” outweigh the risk of harm to the recipient. This is especially so when there are myriad of alternative ways to be more accurate with your kindness, to wit:
“I think it’s so cool that you’ve been running as long as you have. How’d you get started with marathon training?”
“You always make your meals look so colorful and nutritious. Can you share the recipe for this kimchi jjigae?”
“That shirt really brings out the olive notes in your complexion and I love it!”
“Love the energy you’re bringing!”
According to a recent study, 14 million people struggle with disordered eating. Astonishingly, 22% of children and adolescents deal with disordered eating. Although I’m sure there are, indeed, people for whom “Wow! You lost so much weight!” would be a compliment, there’s also a not-insignificant likelihood the same exact words could do harm.
Just food for thought the next time you want to make a comment about someone’s body.
Thoughts On This Week’s Topic?
This Week’s Recipe Inspo.
Vegan Kimchi Fried Rice!
Visiting Rome and Traveling Vegan in Italy: A Guide.
With Pietro Leemann at his Michelin Star restaurant Joia.
Anthony is now a guest-author on The Korean Vegan Blog! He’s put together a fantastic article, Visiting Rome and Traveling Vegan in Italy, about all of our favorite places to eat in Italy (especially in Rome), along with notes on Italian coffee culture, running, music and entertainment, and more. It’s super informative, and if you’re heading to Italy any time soon, you’ll definitely want to check it out!
Parting Thoughts.
When Rudy died, my husband said something to me that I don’t think I’ll ever forget:
“Your superpower is how much you feel everything.”
Looking back on all the ups and downs in my life, there were many times when I wished I could turn off the spigot, maybe knock back a few antidepressants and become a robot, even if only for a few hours. I needed a rest, not just from the world, but from myself, the constant throb of grief, guilt, helplessness, rage, love that seemed to vibrate inside of me, sometimes so violently, I wondered whether it might just be easier to bury myself in something cold and lifeless.
A few days ago, while in the middle of shooting a cheeky video on how to make high-protein Korean BBQ sandwiches, I checked my Instagram messages. Believe it or not, I do try to read as many of them as possible and often spend chunks of my day responding to as many of them as I can. This one, though, left me speechless.
The person attacked me, called me a proponent of genocide because of my published intention to vote a certain way this November. They then proceeded to come at me where it hurt–my stories. They accused me of being false, the worst kind of charlatan–peddling the stories of my family and my life to manufacture an image that fed my ego, when, in actuality, I cared nothing for the values my stories purported to encourage. It was a personal attack, one that was designed to make me feel small and ashamed.
It was also meant to silence me.
For the past 10 months, I have received tens of thousands of messages and comments like these. There have now been multiple videos made about me, one with over a million views, on how I am a “fake Korean” for failing to speak more frequently on specific political issues, for failing to raise more money for the people of Gaza, for being loyal to those who have proven themselves to me as friends who align with my values. I have been accused of being a “shill” because as much as I care for those suffering in the Middle East, I also care about the safety and wellbeing of women, the queer community, the Black American community, and of course, my own community, my own parents–whose safety was directly jeopardized as a result of the xenophobia stoked by a man I will now employ my right as an American to reject.
I am empathetic to those who disagree with me. I can understand the pain and rage that might direct your vote elsewhere. But coming at me in this way, making it so personal and ugly… Well, let’s call it what it is:
Voter suppression.
I know NONE of you reading this newsletter (especially those who make it to the Parting Thoughts every week) are engaging in this type of behavior. But perhaps some or many of you are also struggling with those who would try to silence you. Maybe not on a political issue, but in other areas of your life where your values are manifest, where your heart is on your sleeve.
I have no words of wisdom for you this week. Only words of solidarity.
I’m here, too. In the trenches. With you. Ready, willing, and able to fight that good fight with you.
Wishing you all the best,
-Joanne
Hey Joanne,
I really enjoy listening to your podcast on Spotify. As someone who never struggled with his own weight I often times did not completely understand how deeply bodyweight can affect someone. Especially how even “compliments” can have such an adverse effect on people; so thank you for advancing my horizon on this topic.
However, what truly inspired me of writing this first ever comment were your parting thoughts. I am truly sorry that you were hurt by people for apparently doing not enough “helping”, “funding” or “distancing”. You being a person of public interest… I could never imagine having to stand up to so many people scrutinizing your owns actions.
It dreads me even thinking of it but exactly this dread made me think of how much myself is affected by the segregation in politics. While I don’t live in the USA, even in Germany I feel the tremble Palestine or the your presidential campaign in the US has on the world. As a typical Gen Z I must admit that social media made much more sensible to the other part of the world behind the Atlantic Ocean. Sometimes even more then what lies right behind my doorstep.
The crux of choosing between enforcing own political believes or pacifying people oftentimes renders me with a feeling of helplessness. Especially now that far right political members surge in votes here in Germany. I often ask myself, “should you really invite this person to dinner, who is against Migration?” or “Do I really have to see my uncle on Christmas who votes right on the political spectrum?”
Of course, I understand that standing up for the “right thing” is necessary, but I oftentimes wonder. Is it worth it? Doesn’t isolating those people just makes it worse? I see many similarities in the MAGA movement and our far-right political party “AfD”. One of the biggest ones being their own perception how general society looks at them. They often complain about exactly that isolation and how that will make them only believe harder in their believes. Them literally clutching to their members of the same believes.
I often wonder how did it come to this?
I do not have an answer. Many times, I ask myself how my ancestors did react to it. How my great-grandmother reacted when her son became a founding member of the NSDAP in her little town. Did she shun or try to pacify him? I don’t know and although not even hundred years have passed, I no longer have a way of finding out.
In these times of uncertainty and hatred we often feel lost. So thank you for backing me up, for standing with us in the trenches. Let’s hope we will see brighter skies soon in the future.
it’s strange how i came across this post today. i have to be honest and say today was the first time i visited your site. i had to wean myself off social media a few years ago because my ADHD brain was losing too much time on it. i was ordering your cookbook today and decided to look you up and found your site.
this post really affected me. when i was a child i was super tiny, skinny and extremely active but i started to develop very young. by the time i was 12 i had a woman’s body and boy and men had been making uncomfortable comments for a couple of years ready. looking back its no surprise that i started to put on weight. but that weight then became a different topic of conversation both within my family and without. i was constantly told i needed to lose weight, and eat less. i was told my bmi was too high for my age (this is when i was maybe 10 lbs “overweight”) but i also had breasts and hips that most girls my age didn’t have.
any way this followed me most of my life. there were times i was much thinner and times i was much heavier. i was given praise when i was thinner but when it couldn’t be sustained i felt like a failure and wondered what they were saying about me amongst themselves.
as someone else mentioned even going to the dr can be traumatizing when BMI is mentioned. even tho there is no scientific correlation of BMI equaling health and was based on a select sample of white men.
i just started working with a nutritionist where most of our focus is me learning to reframe my thoughts around “good” and “bad” foods, taking away the charged energy around what i think about those concepts and how it relates to how i feel about myself.
i just want to eat like a “regular” person. i want to enjoy food. i want to make things that are nutrient dense and yummy so i can feel satisfied not restricted and bored.
sorry for this long reply – all of this to say im really glad i found this today. i look forward to making your recipes and having them help me on this journey of finding a new relationship with food.
Jen, this message almost made me cry. Everything you wrote resonated with me so strongly. I outgrew my mother’s hand-me-down bras when I was in 5th grade. No one–not to this day–has ever explained to me that perhaps having more curves than my Asian peers could account for the “extra 10 lbs” they were always after me to lose growing up. I’m sorry you had to grow up with this. But man–I’m glad you were brave enough to share it with me. I’m also glad that by some miracle, you ended up here. I really hope the book helps you find a little healing. And some good eats! <3<3<3
Hi Joanne. I really appreciated this post. As the middle girl of three, I was always “the thick one.” As a result, I never comment on anyone’s size, good or bad. I will compliment their hair, or their clothing, or simply say “You look really nice.” I do think people have good intentions, but if they’ve never been on the receiving end, they just don’t get it. Thanks for further educating us with your story.
I could not agree more, Maryann. Until you’ve been on the receiving end of a compliment “gone wrong” when it comes to your body size, it’s hard to understand. Thanks for weighing in and from one “thick girl” to another, WE ARE STRONG!! <3
Dear Joanne, this really spoke to me. You mentioned that sometimes people lose weight for medical issues. Yup. I recently lost weight due to (1) a badly done pelvic organ prolapse surgery that nearly put me onto a liquid diet for weeks, and (2) a subsequent emergency GI issue that got me admitted to the hospital with a surgeon hovering over me in case I had to have an emergency surgery, also stemming from complications from the surgery. Healing from all that required I switch how I eat dramatically–vegan, low inflammatory (no processed foods, low/no oil, no sugar, no alcohol). I’m healed now, and I mostly feel okay, but I can never eat like I used to again. And I didn’t eat that badly before, but now I have to be super careful not to trigger another GI episode. So when someone compliments me on how I look, because losing 10% of your body weight in 5 months is noticeable, I have complicated feelings about that! I want to tell them that I didn’t lose the weight on purpose, that I’d gladly have my previous body back and not be living with these complications, that I miss not stressing about every little pang in my abdomen. But of course that’s a deep dive into TMI, no one wants to hear about your botched pelvic organ prolapse surgery and the months of horrific complications. They just see someone looking fit and — SKINNY. So everything must be awesome! It’s been a little isolating and lonely, tbh, but I am finally starting to buy some new clothes that fit me. I am within 5 lbs. of my college weight, which is weird at 55. And it’s not something I feel I’m allowed not to be thrilled about. But I’m really not. If you saw someone with new horrible, visible scars, you’d ask them if they were okay and listen sympathetically. My scars are all inside, and instead people see SKINNY and assume everything’s great.
Liz, I can only imagine the “complicated feelings” that emerge when someone comments on your body. I imagine you’d rather be cloaked in something for awhile, as your body recovers. As your heart recovers. Injuries to our bodies also leave injuries to our soul, after all. I’m sorry you feel isolated and alone and I really appreciate that you were willing to be vulnerable about your experience here. I hope you know that there are a lot of people who feel the same you do. <3
Two weight-related comments I made/received forever changed my mind on the subject. One — I gushed to a friend whom I hadn’t seen in a year about how much weight she’d lost, and she said “yeah, cancer.” Two — someone asked me when my baby was due. I wasn’t pregnant and felt so mortified, I wanted to die. I think the commenter did, too, despite my trying to make a joke about it. So, I’ve learned to pretty much always keep any comments about appearances to myself.
I’ll also add that comments about weight are the #1 reason I don’t have a regular family practice doctor. I do NOT want to hear comments — positive or negative — about my weight. From anyone. For any reason.
Bette, this was SOOOOO powerful. Thank you for sharing this with us. That “yeah, cancer” comment is something that has happened to me and it also made me rethink the whole “let’s compliment with body size” idea. And I too was once asked if I was pregnant (when I was not)…. It made me so self-conscious! Thanks for weighing in and for being vulnerable about this!
As I read more am so touched by your being sensitive, as I am too. It is a superpower that one has to learn to handle, as people will try to silence or hurt you. You are beautiful just as you are, and that is what I am to learn when I spoke to my mother the way I did in the above comment.
Mary, thank you so so much. Really appreciate this. As I’m sure you’ve heard, “you’re too sensitive,” or “you’re making too big a deal about this,” or “you’re taking this too personally”…. those are all comments that sometimes keep me up at night!!! But glad to know there are other “too sensitive” people out there who are trying to use that superpower for good! <3
What a wonderful article. I remember when I got married some time ago my mother said something to the effect of you have gotten a little stomach on you. Well, I said I am around 52 and it normal to have a little stomach and asked her to leave the room. She was upset but I was not. Later I told her how much I loved her and she apologized.
Yes, sometimes our family members can be the most, well, invasive? Maybe because they think they CAN be? But I’m glad to hear that the two of you worked it out!! <3
Story of my life. I was a chubby child who grew into a curvy but thin teen. I gained weight in my 30s from job stress, IVF hormones, and life. Hearing “did you lose weight? I can see it in your face.” triggers me to this day. I think it was a well meaning greeting from my much thinner sisters, but it always left me feeling defeated, because the answer was always “no, do I look like I lost weight?” Whenever I see my friends or nieces, whether they have lost or gained weight, I always just say “you look beautiful”. I am now 62 and about 25 lbs overweight and hell yeah, I’d like to lose it, but I’d much rather enjoy pursuing my interests and doing my job (which I love) to the best of my abilities without obsessing about my looks. I still eat healthy and work out but I will never, ever, count calories again in my life. I’ve wasted so much time doing that and it only ever left me feeling less than. So, I will stick with “you look beautiful” or “you look amazing” as my greeting.
Joanne – you are beautiful, inside and out. I so appreciate your newsletters and videos. I hope I can inspire those in my life like you inspire all of us.
C., I love that you’ve come to this point in your life where you have been able to identify and commit to your priorities–even if you’re sometimes tempted to shift them. And I will NEVER ever tire of hearing “you look beautiful” or “you look amazing”!! Since it’s so general, I’ll take it the way I want to!! 😉 Thank you again for weighing in and for sharing your story with us!!
Respectfully, when it comes to sensitive subjects such as these I like to take a breath, and understand that there is a difference between interpretation and intent. When someone comments on your weight loss they may only have the best intentions, they adore you and want to let you know that you look great and they have no idea that their words may hurt your heart. I’ve been married over 20 years and many times my husband says something that I perceive as hurtful and I want to smack him with a frying pan, but usually, when I ask for an explanation, he had no intention of upsetting me and it was my interpretation that was off. I wish you only joy and happiness and please dont let anyone upset you who doesnt know you personally. Protect your heart.
Nancy–boy oh boy can i relate to the FRYING PAN!!!! LOLOLOLOL! I think providing grace to our loved ones is absolutely necessary to make sure they remain in our lives (and don’t fall prey to the errant fry pan!!!). I also love what you say about protecting your heart–sometimes we can do so by extending ourselves to the other person, preventing the projection of our worst fears onto what they say. Thanks again for reading and sharing your thoughts on this!!
Dear Joanne, I could relate so so much. Unfortunately my English is not good enough to deliver in depth what it means to me. My longing for true, valuable connection with my family was always repelled by superficiality and that weird focus on outer appearance by my family members. I am at a clinic at the moment, getting treated for complex PTSD and depression and I found out that there is a lot of transgenerational trauma handed down to me. So their focus on the trivial, the outer appearance of people, their delusional immage of “beauty” might also be a way of distracting themselves of deeper and truer feelings and self-connection. Whenever I visit my grandma her first words are a remark on whether I’ve lost some additional weight. I never feel seen for the person I really am. My mom always seemed like a strong, independent, “non-conformist” woman – but she was and still is so focussed on aesthetics and skinnyness – (she is an artist too) and I was never the elf-like equivalent to her sculptures and paintings. I was chubby. And traumatised. And I learned to reject myself at a very young age. My mom commented on my body a lot – she pushed me to learn a sport at 9 – not for my health but in order to lose some inches around my underbelly. The belly of a child that was always bloated and looked “too big”. (I chose Tae Kwon Do by the way and loved a lot for the strenghth and mindfulness it gave me) – I’m 36 now and all that bodydysmorphia still hurts. I find myself in caloriecutting all the time and it’s just not fair. We DESERVE to love ourselves, to cry about what happened in the past and comfort us in the now. You inspire me very much and I’m so glad to have found your channel on youtube and that you spark those precious conversations. I wish you all the self-acceptance and gentleness in the world ♡ Greetings from Germany
Laura, First of all, your English is AMAZING. Like, way better than some native speakers I know!! 😉 Second, I am so sorry to hear that you are struggling right now. PTSD and depression are unimaginably difficult and I wish you a full and effective recovery. I very much love how you’ve utilized your compassion and critical thinking to give some grace to your mother, in particular, noting that her preoccupation with your (and her) appearance is itself a function of trauma. AND, it’s important to note that women are multi-faceted: we can be confident in some areas, while being insecure in others, yes?
The most important thing you said is that “We deserve to love ourselves.” That is so true and yet it is so hard for some of us. I wish you all the strength in the world, Laura, as your carve the path towards that hard-fought finish line. <3