I didn’t do a facial for a very long time. I eventually decided to book one. It was not because I thought it would help me look like I wish I did – not likely to happen. It was to not lose the balance on the package that I had signed up for. The aesthetician, a friendly enough young lady, whom I met for the first time reminded me that my last visit was in August, 2016. She then promptly told me that I was too thin and that I should eat more. I was taken aback but not surprised. Another lady, whom I have never spoken to but acknowledged, when we have shared the lift at our condo, uttered unprompted and rather loudly that I was so lucky to be thin. I asked her why but she didn’t elaborate.

My dentist and my hairstylist make the same comments about my built when we meet every six months and six weeks, respectively. I look the same and so do they. But, there is a compulsion to make the same old, same old remarks about how thin I am, and how they, regrettably, are not. My dentist says she needs to up her exercises while my hairstylist wants to donate some bits of her Big Mac face (her description, not mine) to augment my very angular face. I understand it’s said in jest. We have a laugh. Me, only a little. And, I move on.

I get the same observations from some members of my family and friends. Like I said earlier I look the same. Yet, unsolicited comments and very unfunny jokes are aired. Some make passing remarks. Some choose longer scrutiny, followed by unwanted advice. I avoid family members and friends, who offer repetitive and insipid instructions plus unimaginative jokes about all things related to being thin. I find them tiresome. It irks me. It’s a major moan of mine. 

What makes people (those I know intimately, casually and not at all) assume that it’s acceptable to comment about how thin I look, make thin jokes and proffer suggestions on how to fatten me up. They talk about how thin I am as if I am not there. Hello, I am very present. The jokes range from looking like a malnourished refugee (I don’t understand this association) to looking sick and to a stick insect. The free flowing uninvited advice comprise eating more. Just more of everything. More carbohydrates like rice and pasta. A lot more meat and eggs. Any fat to chalk up the calories. All these to ‘help’ me increase my weight and put some meat on my bones. And, all these under the guise of caring about me, and my well-being. I don’t think so.

Would these same people comment to a not-thin stranger or friend or family member (maybe) about their size and weight? Would they declare how wonderful it must be for them?  Would they make jokes about non-thin people to their faces? Would they dare offer dietary tips? Would they tell them to think really hard before putting another piece of chocolate or chicken into their mouths? I don’t think so.

Why is thin-talk not politically incorrect? I am cognizant that people, in general, want to be thin or thinner. The fashion industry promotes thinness. Media carries a lot of stories and posts that tend to equate being thin with better health, longevity and all that is good in life. Maybe. But, not always. Celebrities, movie stars and anybody who is somebody to some target audience, is more likely to be thin. I get it. Thin is in.

Personally, I don’t want to be thin. I don’t like being thin and small. I prefer to be medium built and look a little intimidating. It’s nice not to always give way to bigger people but be made way for. Only a small person will understand this. I am quite active. I am a fidget. I exercise regularly. Maybe these factors contribute to keeping my weight low or in check. It could also be genetic. I don’t know. This is what I have concluded. People think it is alright to give their two cents worth because thin is in the seemingly correct side of the size and weight spectrum.  I say NO. It’s not alright. It is plain rude and intrusive. So, stop.