Pride says, despite the way we are treated, we have no reason to feel ashamed.

And it’s not that we abhor fatness because we discovered it is unhealthy. By and large, we decided it is unhealthy because we came, over time, to abhor it—for

Fatphobia can be defined as a feature of social systems that unjustly rank fatter bodies as inferior to thinner bodies, in terms of not only our health but also our moral, sexual, and intellectual status.

Your body is for you, and the ways it has been impugned stem from the many people and practices and structures that have missed this fundamental idea, instead perpetuating the lie that your body is meant to please or serve or placate others.

This is how misogyny works: take a hierarchy, any hierarchy, and use it to derogate a girl or woman.

Fatphobia is an inherently structural phenomenon, which sees people in fatter bodies navigating a different world, containing numerous distinct material, social, and institutional barriers to our flourishing.

But, ultimately, it felt like a confession of a sin that was less mine than a completely predictable product of the social world I lived in.

What is called for is a thoroughgoing political reckoning and subsequent moral recognition: being fat, like being trans, is a valid and indeed valuable way of being in the world.

Even if these interventions were perfectly safe and costless and painless—which they’re currently far from being—I would still find them objectionable at a social level of analysis. For they flatten out difference, in the form of human bodily diversity, which I believe we ought to value. They flatten out such difference not at random, moreover, but