How to spot diet dialogue (and what to say instead)
Diet culture knows what it’s doing: It preys on our insecurities and dissatisfaction with our physical appearance, which ultimately stems from comparisons we make to other people in our lives, famous people we see in movies or on TV, or photoshopped images on social media. The fakery in these images is as empty as the promises made by a culture that makes money from you feeling bad about yourself.
But diet speak is as common nowadays as complaining about COVID-19. Because it’s become such a staple in everyday conversation, it can be hard to identify when what we say to others (or what goes on in our internal monologue) has gone from harmless inquiries into what we’re going to eat to potentially dangerous dialogue that teeters on the edge of disordered.
It’s like life pre-COVID: We walked around, breathing in each other’s germs, touching surfaces and wiping our noses shortly after, perfectly comfortable in our ignorance about the invisible toxins that transcend our body’s natural defense barriers. Similarly, but much more surreptitiously, diet culture has infiltrated what we’ve comfortably accepted as casual conversations about food, recipes, exercise, sports, and how we feel about our bodies. But, as we’ve uncovered a lot of fraud in the zeitgeist, we’ve also learned: Just because it’s “normal” doesn’t mean it’s healthy.
Below, I explore common convo topics, sayings, and phrases that, for a long time, have been considered innocuous but are actually problematic if said in the wrong way, to the wrong people, for the wrong reasons. (And yes, I have actually personally heard every single one of these phrases either directed to me or someone close to me.) Let’s dive in.
“Diet starts tomorrow.”
If the diet starts tomorrow, as people tell themselves, then today “doesn’t count.” (At least, this is what I’ve heard.) This decision sends a signal to your brain that soon, you’re going to be restricting how much food you allow your body, potentially depriving it of adequate nutrients and energy. You’re likely to start feeling sluggish, irritable, and might have difficulty sleeping as a result of this restriction.
And if we really look at this from a holistic viewpoint, there is clear proof that diets don’t work. Every few years, a new “miracle” weight loss solution pops up, promising to be unlike anything you’ve ever tried before.
But ask yourself: If diets really worked, why do we need so many? Why do new regimens keep emerging? Why do they all promise the same thing?
Stepping down from my anti-diet pedestal for a moment, I encourage you to dig deeper into your reasons for dieting, maybe by asking yourself:
What am I trying to achieve?
Where does this desire come from?
Who can I talk to/how can I explore this in a non-physical, non-medical way?*
*I am not a medical professional. If you’ve been instructed by a medical professional to lose weight for health reasons, please consult your provider for guidance.
“If you eat any more, you’ll pop!” / “Is that all you’re eating?”
The truth is, we have absolutely no idea how little or how much other peoples’ bodies need in order to function, and the even truer truth is, it’s none of our business.
People eat for a litany of reasons. Maybe they’re truly hungry, maybe they’re enjoying the food they’re eating and they want to continue to experience that joy, or maybe they’re refueling after a workout. But whatever the reason, it’s not our responsibility to question or comment on it.
Just as we don’t know what’s going on in a person’s body, we also don’t always know what’s going on in their minds, and depending on our relationship with the person in question, our comments may or may not be harmful.
Case and point: Comments I’ve received throughout my life about what I eat, what I look like, and how I choose to live my life have stuck with me, playing a huge role in my internal dialogue before, during, and after my eating disorder was at its peak. We never know what someone is dealing with, but the safest strategy is to take pause and think about how our words might impact a person’s relationship with food and their bodies, long after the moment has passed.
“You’re thin—you can eat whatever you want!”
The size of our bodies does not reflect our physical or mental health. Read that sentence again.
People in thin bodies can be unhealthy, and people in larger bodies can be perfectly healthy. Assuming the state of someone’s physical and mental health based on what they look like is something we need to leave behind, along with the Atkin’s diet and the idea that carbs are “bad.”
These are false ideas we’ve come to believe based on what we’re told by doctors, the media, and “health” magazines.
In the same vein, just because a person looks a certain way does not mean they have certain leniences about what they can or cannot consume. To reiterate the previous point, we never really know what is going on inside someone’s mind or body unless they tell us. And even then, they might not be fully aware.
This all circles back to the safest strategy: Try to refrain from commenting on how someone looks, even if you think your intention is positive.
“Once I lose x pounds, I’ll be happy / I’ll feel OK in my body.”
This is another statement whose genesis invites a closer analysis, prompting questions like:
What worth do you attribute to your physical appearance?
Why do you think you associate worth with physical appearance?
If you lost x pounds tomorrow, what would really change? What would stay the same?
The idea that a magic number on the scale or on measuring tape can suddenly infuse elation into our daily lives is unrealistic and, frankly, impossible. Regardless of what size pants you wear (which, by the way, vary greatly among retailers and clothing manufacturers), underlying preoccupations will still be there.
Personal reflection: At my lowest weight (a.k.a. the height of my eating disorder), I was miserable. My body was not its natural size, and therefore systems started to shut down. I was lethargic, irritable, inattentive, my menses ceased, and I felt constantly depressed.
When I started to recover and restore my body to its “naturally intended” weight (the precise number of which I am completely unaware because I stopped weighing myself early in my recovery), my mood lifted, I felt energized, and I was able to start learning how to trust my internal hunger cues.
“I ate too much. I feel gross.”
I hear this one a lot…and not just from other people.
I’m guilty of still feeling this way after a large meal, but the way I respond to it is vastly different now that I’m in recovery.
One of the practices I picked up and held onto early in recovery was learning how to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. I would try to do this by sitting still and quiet after I felt like I had eaten too much. This was not easy, especially in the beginning.
My eating disorder had trained me to immediately perform some kind of compensatory behavior after eating a large amount of food, but just as I had learned to adopt unhealthy behaviors, I knew I could unlearn them.
It doesn’t happen overnight, but it happens when you consistently work at it.
“You’re so thin—you look great!”
This one might confuse some. You may be asking yourself, “What’s wrong with telling someone they look great?”
I know it might seem harmless on the surface, but statements like this reinforce the belief that the ideal and desirable body is a thin body, or whatever type of body a person may be in when you tell them that they look great.
It’s going to take a long time for any sort of societal shift to happen to where we’re all complimenting each other on our accomplishments instead of our appearances. It’s OK if we don’t always look the “best” or if we choose to age gracefully or if we no longer fit into the clothes we used to wear. Bodies change, people change, and therein lies the beauty of human existence.
So what are less-harmful ways to talk about these topics?
Answer: There aren’t any.
Like the weather, these topics have only served as words to take up space or fill awkward silence. But thankfully, there are thousands of other topics to talk about that don’t involve dieting, food, or exercise. Here are just a few:
A recent trip you took or want to take
A TV show or movie you’ve recently seen or want to see
Your mood and mental health
And yes, the centuries-old, go-to topic: the weather
To learn more about what to say and take the pledge to stop diet talk, visit WithAll’s What to Say page.
I used to be one of these people, someone who joked about eating “bad” foods or shared a new workout tip with girlfriends at the brunch table.
Now I’m an audience member to these conversations, mostly in situations where I’m not quite comfortable sharing my recovery story, so I sit back and quietly observe.
Instead of contributing to these conversations, I bask in the joy and the freedom I feel at my current stage of recovery, thankful that I never have to engage in this type of conversation again, thankful that instead of openly (and half-jokingly) berating myself for cheating on a vacation diet or rationalizing how I’m going to compensate after eating a big meal, I’ll get to spend my day, energy, and attention engaging in more interesting and more pleasurable activities.
Image: Three different kinds of pasta — Venice, Italy (2017)
I spent too many years distracted during meals, figuring out how I was going to make it through a meal, and the next one, and how I was going to fill the space in between. I hated eating around other people. I always felt watched and judged, both by my dining companions and by my eating disorder. I never felt free.
I no longer punish my body after nourishing it. Instead, I feel gratitude for having access to food, having resources that allow me to enjoy a meal at a restaurant, and having good company who, one day, I hope will be free from diet dialogue, too.
Pause & Prompt
When someone uses diet dialogue around me, I…
