The Weight of Unsolicited Comments Over Decades

For writer Rachel Cohn, years spent living in a larger body resulted in an extensive mental catalog she calls “the Comments”—unsolicited remarks about her size from various people.

These comments began early, like when a cashier in Silver Spring, Maryland, at age 14, criticized her junk food purchase by saying, “You have such a pretty face,” prompting her to leave the snacks behind, only to return later when the clerk was gone.

Another painful memory involves a family member at age 17 who asked at a holiday party, “When will you lose 50 pounds and be beautiful again?” Cohn often coped with these stings by eating more food in private, using fullness to mask emotional pain.

Echoes of High School Judgment

Cohn’s experiences with body shaming persisted into adulthood. At 22, while working a part-time restaurant job in Bethesda for extra income, she encountered a former high school cheerleader who had previously labeled her “that fat girl.”

The waitress ignored her completely, reinforcing Cohn’s feeling of being relegated to a past social status. This tension made her short tenure at the job unbearable.

Other incidents included a seamstress criticizing the size of a bridesmaid dress she needed altered, insisting Cohn should have purchased her “real size.” She starved herself for weeks to fit into the dress for the wedding.

Even positive comments were backhanded; a DMV clerk, shocked by her youthful appearance at 45, immediately pointed to her ID weight and advised, “Now you just need to work on that number.”

A Lifelong Battle with Weight and Food

Cohn realized her entire life seemed centered on shrinking her body. Teenage letters to friends were signed, “Love, Rachel ‘Salad’ Cohn,” an attempt to preemptively joke about her weight.

At the time, she was a size 14, though her weight later peaked at a size 20. She first attended Weight Watchers at 15, starting cycles with hope, but never losing more than 20 pounds before regaining more weight in subsequent attempts.

She concluded that she lacked the necessary discipline, despite loving food—a passion she shared with family and friends, and through her appreciation for food writers like Ruth Reichl and Laurie Colwin.

The Vicious Cycle of Dieting and Surgery

This perpetual dieting brought health risks, including high blood pressure and sleep apnea. In her 40s, Cohn underwent two failed weight-loss surgeries.

The first, a lap band, was circumvented by spacing out food intake. She quipped, “It’s me versus the band, and I’m winning.”

The band complicated a bout of bronchitis, hindering her ability to cough up mucus. To qualify for insurance coverage to remove it, she needed a revision to a gastric sleeve, requiring her to intentionally gain weight first.

Post-sleeve, she experienced severe stomach pain later misdiagnosed as acid reflux; the actual issue was gallstones, common after such surgery. After finally having her gallbladder removed, she suffered even worse pain due to missed stones in her bile duct, necessitating emergency surgery to prevent sepsis.

The GLP-1 Revelation: Silence and Transformation

Exhausted by doctors, surgeries, and diets, Cohn finally received a prescription for tirzepatide from an anonymous doctor who texted, “You will love it!”

The medication eliminated what she read about on Reddit as “food noise.” For the first time, she felt in control of her appetite, rather than being controlled by it. She has since lost over 130 pounds from her highest weight.

The medication addressed what diets and surgeries could not: addiction. Eating with discipline became a habit that didn't feel like torture. She maintained a slow loss, prioritizing whole foods, protein, and fiber, and began strength training.

Now in her best physical shape, she is off blood pressure medication and no longer has sleep apnea. She wears a size six and accepts that lifelong maintenance dosing will likely be necessary.

New Body, Old Reactions: Proprioceptive Dissonance

Cohn now enjoys food more, eating smaller portions without the constant inner critic. However, when friends compliment her, such as one who recently exclaimed, “Wow, you look great!” or another who calls her “Skinny Minnie,” she still cringes.

She understands the intention is positive, but after a lifetime of shame, hearing “You look great!” translates internally to, “You looked like an unlovable slob before.”

She feels uncomfortable “fitting in” with the thin world, believing she will never stop being a fat girl in her own mind. These compliments feel like confirmation that she was dismissed in the past, revealing a chip on her shoulder about no longer being “othered.”

Cohn describes her current state as experiencing spatial disorientation, an aviation term meaning the inability to accurately perceive one's position relative to the Earth. She is constantly recalibrating how she fits into spaces.

She is amazed by new physical capabilities, like fitting comfortably in chairs or not worrying about airplane seatbelts. Yet, comments like “You disappeared!” threaten the peace she is cultivating, even as she marvels at simple activities like climbing stairs or attending yoga classes she has done for two decades.