“Fat” Is Not A Feeling
I often hear clients say, “I feel fat.” It’s a phrase so many of us have used or heard, tossed around casually or spoken in distress. But here’s the thing—fat is not a feeling. It’s a descriptor, not an emotion. And when someone says, “I feel fat,” what they’re usually expressing is something much deeper, something emotional that needs compassion and curiosity—not criticism and something that we often come to avoid by shifting the focus onto our bodies, rather then the emotion or wound arising for us.
As an eating disorder therapist, I’ve seen how quickly “I feel fat” can become a shorthand for shame, sadness, overwhelm, guilt, or discomfort in one’s body. It’s not that the words don’t matter—they do. But they often act as a cover, a socially acceptable way to express internal distress in a world that’s conditioned us to tie our worth and emotional states to the size of our bodies.
Fatness, in and of itself, is not a moral failing or an emotion. But when society assigns negative value to fat bodies, it teaches us to use “fat” as an insult or as an explanation for feeling bad. The problem isn’t the word—it’s the way our culture stigmatizes fatness and encourages us to internalize those messages. Saying “I feel fat” is often another way of saying “I feel unworthy,” “I feel anxious,” “I feel self-conscious”, or “I don’t feel good enough.” And when we stop there—at fat—we miss the opportunity to get curious about what’s really going on.
When a client tells me they feel fat, I might gently ask, “What else are you feeling?” or “What’s going on in your body or mind right now that might be uncomfortable?” This small shift opens the door to understanding the real emotions that need attention—whether it’s feeling out of control, disconnected, criticized, or unseen.
Eating disorders thrive on black-and-white thinking, shame, and the belief that our bodies must be controlled to feel safe or loved. Recovery, on the other hand, asks us to expand our emotional vocabulary. It asks us to name fear as fear, sadness as sadness, and discomfort as discomfort. It teaches us that our worth is not dictated by the shape or size of our bodies and that our emotions deserve to be met with validation—not body shame.
Part of recovery is also unlearning the idea that bodies—especially fat bodies—are inherently bad. It’s learning that “fat” is not something to be feared or avoided but something that simply is—a neutral descriptor like tall, short, curly-haired, or brown-eyed. The more we can shift the narrative, the more space we create for healing—not just for individuals, but for our culture at large. Because guess what? “Feeling fat” doesn’t only occur to people in larger bodies—when we connect our emotions to the size and shape of our bodies, “feeling fat” can happen to anyone, and attempting to shrink you body to outrun discomfort, isn’t going to change that, no matter your size. This keeps stuck in a cycle.
So the next time you catch yourself saying, “I feel fat,” pause and ask, “What am I really feeling?” Underneath that phrase is likely a very valid, very human emotion that needs your kindness. And that’s where the real work—and healing—begins.
