Since bulimia is the new black

Today smacking: People who find it appropriate to comment on strangers’ eating habits.

You know what really fucks me off? Well, a lot of things, clearly, but today let’s narrow it down. It really fucks me off that it’s rude and patently Not OK to make comment to an overweight person about what they’re eating, but it’s acceptable to do the same to a lean person.

Think about it. If you see a considerably overweight lady waddle up to McDonald’s and order a Big Mac Meal, large size, you will quite likely think to yourself, “Damn honey, you do not need that extra roll under your chin.” But are you going to approach her and jokingly ask how she plans to burn off those calories? Like hell you are. It's none of your damned business, and you know that.

So why does nobody gasp and shove their fists in their mouths for fear of choking on their own disbelief when someone casually asks a slender girl, “Wow, do you even eat?” Like it’s less rude to imply someone has an eating disorder than it is to imply they eat far too much?

You know, it says a lot about how fucked up our culture is when it’s considered a compliment to imply a girl is commendably bulimic. I’ll say that again. It. Is. Fucked. Up.

I speak from personal experience here (obviously), and I really get a stick up my arse when people do it to me. You see, I’m not a large girl. I’m by no means unnaturally thin and I have a sneaking suspicion my linebacker's shoulders mean I’d never be accepted by a modelling agency, but I am 5'7" and not even close to overweight. I exercise regularly and I’ve never dieted in my life, because diets are stupid and misguided. So occasionally I get an amount of stick about being slim, even though I eat for the nation. I swear to God, you do not know anybody more motivated by food than me. My day is a series of miscellaneous inconveniences I will probably not remember highlighted by the various meals that bring me untold joy. I love food, and because I genuinely love healthy foods and get a good amount of exercise, I don’t ever deny myself the pleasure of eating.

So picture this scenario, if you will: a few weeks ago I was walking to a bar for after-work-drinks with a colleague I don’t really know, but with whom I sometimes hang out because we share a nationality and she is a little lost in this city. This colleague mentioned she needed to get a sandwich before we got to the bar because she’d had no lunch and didn’t want to drink on an empty stomach. Let’s note at this point that the reason she has an empty stomach is because she’s been crash-dieting for the past two weeks, and bemoaning the fact that she has actually managed to put on weight. Being the foodie I am, I see diets as an Abomination unto the Lord, especially stupid ones where you have to deny yourself reasonable foods and end up so malnourished and food-obsessed that you turn into a cranky, bitter husk of a human being.

But drinking on an empty stomach is a dangerous endeavour, so; “Good idea,” says I. “Personally I’m still full from lunch, actually. I had this really filling pasta and I think I ate myself stupid.”

“Oh, right,” says she. “What’s ‘filling’ for you, like, two mouthfuls?”

Excuse me?

Ms. Bitter Colleague, I'll have you know IT IS NOT OK TO SAY SUCH A THING. You’re making assumptions on my eating habits just because I happen not to be a heifer. Hey, fuck you and your starvation rage.

“I eat more than anyone I know,” I replied curtly, not sure why I was defending myself. “It’s stupid to deny yourself of food; it makes you food-obsessed, and your body goes into fat-storing overdrive. Plus I eat because I love to.”

And then I mentally smacked her upside the head.

Of course, within the office it’s wise to keep the peace. I’m not always so diplomatic when someone comments on my food. My food is my shrine, and to disrespect my love of it is to disrespect me, and find yourself eternally banned from my very thin Good Book.

One banning in particular stands out in my mind. As part of my job I once had to act as support staff at a public health-related conference. Attending this event were a few pharmaceutical representatives. Now, one pharmaceutical rep was a youngish, smarmy fellow who had tried to slime on to me a few times throughout the morning, presumably for professional gain. I thought I would get away from him at lunch time, and I took the opportunity to pile my plate high with food from the buffet; I was starving from running around for hours, and besides, why shouldn’t I eat to my contentment?

Unfortunately Mr. Smarmy managed to locate me and sat himself down right next to me as I ate. Now, I am very uncomfortable eating with people I don’t know, such is my affection for food. I’d like to be left to my private pleasure, thanks. So I was not in the finest of moods when Mr. Smarmy tried to gain my attention again. His conversation starter? Oh, just a marked glance down at my plate, an even more marked glance at my figure, then the comment he thought was certain to get him in my Good Book, great compliment that it is: “Wow, that’s a lot of food! Where on earth do you put it?”

Excuse me?

Mr. Smarmy, I'll have you know IT IS NOT OK TO SAY SUCH A THING. Imagine if I had been on the hefty side and he had found fit to ask why there were fried spring rolls on my plate instead of salad? A punch in the nuts and a discrimination suit for him, likely. But it’s OK to comment on a skinny girl’s eating habits, because she’ll take it as a compliment, right? Oh, will she?

Listen, it is every bit as inappropriate to imply someone eats too little as it is to suggest they eat too much, and while Mr. Smarmy intended to curry my favour, it’s not exactly stirringly flattering to know that someone is scrutinising every morsel that passes your lips.

So I turned to him with the straightest face I could muster, plastered on a professional smile and replied, “Oh, don’t be silly. I throw it all up afterwards.”