Seven Deadly Fears: Gluttony

“I’m rubber you’re glue whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.” We’ve all heard this on the school yard, or said it to our friends (and frenemies). Like many things we learn on the playground* it’s actually true. What we say about other people says far more about us than the other person. And this is especially true in the discussion of body appearance and health. There is a common, but incorrect, idea that a person can tell how healthy another person is by looking at them. Specifically, by subjectively judging how fat that person is and then making smug and misinformed appeals to their health.

There is one Deadly Fear that is constantly being talked about in cultural commentaries: Gluttony. It is very rarely referred to as what it is. People don’t usually go around telling people that they think they are a gluttonous pig and ought to be ashamed of themselves. (Except when they do). Much of the criticism is more subtle, and many of the people who body-shame others don’t realize they are doing so and don’t realize they are following the lessons of the Christian Right.

I have a personal stake in this debate. I’m a woman in America, which means my body and what I put on it or in it is a national discussion. I’m constantly bombarded by ads telling me to get plastic surgery, to try dangerous yo-yo diets, to wear this or use that. It can be exhausting.

And, on a personal level, I have seen firsthand the difference in treatment that thin people get vs fat people. I have been every size from 0 to 20-odd. I have been under 100 and above 200. And I definitely got better treatment the closer to 100 I was. Clothing is properly sized. Ads telling me how to become a disordered eater through a national campaign weren’t geared to me. No one had concerns about my health, my diet, my mental health, or my life in general.

That last is particularly telling. The basic premise of the Sin of Gluttony is that one’s bad habits of indulgence will show on their person. Therefore, if a person is eating too much, they will be fat. If they are drinking too much, they will be all red with a  bulbous nose. If they are having too much sex, you’ll be able to see the oozy sores all over them. This idea of being able to see virtue in appearance has seeped into our culture completely. Everything from comic books to Disney equate society’s ideal body with goodness, and the non-ideal body with badness. Take a look at their villains, sometime.

Then, in the 90s, we had the ‘personal responsibility’ movement in health care. Largely a ploy by the insurance companies to not have to offer the health care they were being paid for, it caught on with everyone from the person on the street to doctors. Suddenly, if people didn’t need medicine they needed wellness. Gyms, diet clubs, spas and other places dedicated to molding the perfect body sprung up everywhere. Doctors, facing higher premiums and lower payouts, quickly put their names on these businesses. At the same time, studies were showing a link between behavior and health. The Merchant of Doubt scandal about cigarette companies lying about the health consequences of their products hit around this time as well. I will go into more details about the 80s, 90s and health care another time.

For now, I will just say that the cumulative effect is to make it fashionable to blame people for their own health problems. People see a report in the news about exercise and health that conflates ‘fat’ in appearance, body fat that you can measure, overall weight and overall health. That person doesn’t know to or doesn’t care to look for the actual studies, and comes to the obvious but wrong conclusion that anyone that looks fat must be a) unhealthy and b) be unhealthy because they are fat. This then leads to strangers thinking it’s totally okay to ask someone nosy and personal questions about their health, or offer advice on their health. If that someone is a friend of a fat person it gets even worse. And, when the fat person is rightly upset, they’re told, “Well I am just doing it for your health!” As if not fitting into the perfect Barbie mold means that someone can’t read, think critically, or talk to their doctor in an intelligent way. They may be sincere in their desire to help, but the concern trolling doesn’t help anyone. There are better ways to be supportive of good health.

First of all, the Helpful Hattie (or Henry) needs to realize that their statements are about their own insecurities, rather than another person’s health. Helpful H. doesn’t want to be perceived as ugly, bad, gluttonous or immoral themselves. They are terrified of what others will think of them if they are seen supporting someone who acts against that norm. That is why the most vitriolic comments (including death threats) are reserved for those who are fat, happy, healthy and proud. It completely breaks the fearful mind to see someone who doesn’t fit into their idea of what is good.

I know this from my own life because when I was a size 0, I had some actually unhealthy and dangerous habits. I was so stressed and scared because of bullying and abuse that I barely ate a meal a day for about seven years. I had constant nervous stomach. I was suffering from untreated Depression and binge ate candy. By the time I was a teenager I was developing Fibromyalgia, and the symptoms were obvious. Yet, no one said a word because I looked model-hot in a bikini. Now, I’m fat and curvy, and healthy. I go for walks. I see medical professionals and follow their advice. My health challenges are treated properly for the first time in my life. I engage in self-care. I have many wonderful people who love me, and that I love. I have six adorable cats that I share with two friends. I am enrolled in a course of study I love and excel in. I dress bright and bold, with rainbow hair and Disney skirts because it makes me happy. I have hobbies I enjoy. If I won the jackpot tomorrow, I would pay my student loans, make a few repairs around the house, and enjoy the security that money can bring. I would not change a thing in my life, because I love it too much. By any definition, that is healthy.

But, all people see is a fat girl who can’t possibly be happy because society says she shouldn’t be. Even people close to me frequently make those appeals to health, and refuse to believe me about my own life. And if I need some kind of mobility device because I am having a day where I can’t walk long distances, the pressure gets worse. I must have to use mobility devices because I’m fat. I can’t possibly have another reason why my body won’t do what I want it to do. Certainly, some kinds of exercise on some days can help. But, what that is, when I choose to do it and why, is mine to choose to share.

That is not to say that exercise or eating well or other general health advice can’t be useful. And of course some behavior can cause some health problems. There is a strong causal link between smoking and lung cancer. But, there are some huge buts here. Even someone who did ‘do it to themselves’ deserves support, care, and empathy. They deserve to get medical care that can help them and save them. Basic human empathy demands that much, I would say. Lecturing and blaming will just make an already sick and scared person sicker and more scared. They are well aware of what happened, they don’t need you or I or anyone else to tell them. They do need what we all need: support and love.

Second, smoking and fat are not the same thing. There isn’t any scientific support for the statement that being fat causes bad health. “Fat” in appearance, fat in the body, weight and health are all different things, and are related to each other in extremely complex ways.

There is also the fact that different healthy habits are better for different people. For me, I enjoy exercising by wandering about playing Pokemon Go and Ingress. I can be with my friends and I can rest when I need to. Other people like to take classes. I prefer to practice mindfulness while I eat, rather than count calories. Counting calories is bad for my mental health and encourages disordered eating for me. Other people find the hard numbers comforting and inspiring. I can respect that. I simply ask for the same respect for myself and other fat and fabulous people.

Seven Deadly Fears: Anger

Terrible things have happened to me, and to my friends. I am angry about it. And I should be. But, as an Evangelical Christian, I wasn’t allowed to be. Being angry about being hurt was being unforgiving, and that is a sin. Being unforgiving is the worse possible thing that I, as an Evangelical Christian woman, could be. If someone hurt me, I had to forgive them right away. If I was angry at that person, or thought less of them for that action, I was worse than they were. Like many things in Evangelical culture, there was no room for context, nuance, or scale in this directive. It was just as wrong to be angry at someone for abusing me as it was to be angry at someone for breaking my favorite (but replaceable) mug. So I had to swallow the fear, and anger, and any other emotion. I purposely forgot about what happened to me. I was part of the Evangelical culture for several decades, and got very good at not feeling anything. So, even after I left about ten years ago, I still didn’t feel much.

Except, ironically, when I was angry about something. Throughout my life I was known to have a temper. I would get so angry about sometimes inconsequential things that I would effectively black-out. I couldn’t remember what happened during that angry moment except what others told me. Now, I know this is a common symptom of untreated PTSD, but then it was seen as a sin, and treated as a grave personality flaw. Almost no one ever asked what happened to cause that kind of rage. One pastor did, and that saved my life. He is also a trained therapist, especially for trauma cases. He recognized the signs, and encouraged me to talk to him. We met many times through my teenage years, and his kindness is the reason I am alive now. I can’t remember specific meetings, or specific advice.

But I do remember the stories I told him. Some of what I talked about was teenage hormone processing that the church helps with not at all. Sex, emotional roller coasters, body changes. He did his best to counter the body shame of Evangelical Christianity. He didn't know about past sexual abuse but I think he suspected. I also talked a lot about the emotional abuse at home, and the bullying at school. I remember crying a lot, talking about how all of this added up to a shame so acute I didn't want to live anymore. He didn't try to tell me suicide was a sin. He talked about my friends, about how much he cares. He insisted my father come talk to him, and had some very strong words for his behavior. He helped keep that extremely frayed line of communication connected just enough. He helped remind us that we can talk about books or music or sports, and approved of B&N as the neutral zone.

He mediated meetings between Dad and I, where I could tell him how angry I was and how hurt I was about our home life. I was discouraged from yelling and screaming back, that would make it worse. But I could express anger in other ways. I could cry. I could show and experience the kind of emotions that I was told were wrong in other Evangelical spaces, and get validation for them. And this changed me, and changed my family. There was one particularly important session in 1996. I will keep the details private for now, but it was the direct catalyst for 20 years of growth, healing, and communication. I now have a pretty good relationship with both my parents because I was allowed to be angry with them.

Our pastor talked about forgiveness, of course. But he talked about a process of healing that begins with anger and pain. It is an honest process that empowers those who were hurt by validating their feelings. Then, they can get help from friends or professionals to help them move through that trauma, and allow them to live a fulfilled life.

Anger at injustice to self or others is, in some way, taking responsibility for that injustice. It is from a deep-seated sense of caring for self and for others. On some level knowing that what is happening isn’t right, and that we deserve to be treated better. That feeling was recently on display after the Orland Pulse Club shootings. People are angry, you can see it on the faces. They are scared. They are horrified. That leads to them asking what to do. It leads to posts of personal stories of pain, of empathy. It leads to a greater conversation on injustice and what we can do about it. Anger, in other words, is the driving force for social justice, as well as individual justice.

I think that is why Evangelical Christians are so scared of it. Their culture is one of fear. Particularly of taking personal responsibility for their actions. If something goes well, it’s because of God. If something goes badly, well, that’s just human nature and/or the devil. All they have to do is pray, and that is enough. Their doctrine of anger means they don’t have to deal with any personal consequences. If I told anyone that someone hurt me, and I was angry about it, they’d just pray the Sinner’s Prayer with me and tell me not to be so unforgiving. If someone hurt them, they could bury it with platitudes and not have to feel the effects. It’s in easier to be scared of pain and cover it with pretty marketing than it is to deal with that pain. I would know.

But the thing is, it never goes away, really. The anger has to come out, like it did with me. Being able to talk about it was the only reason it didn’t destroy me. I’ve seen it destroy others who had trauma they were not allowed to talk about. The closer they were to the church leadership, the harsher the directives, and the more likely they were to channel the anger into drugs, alcohol, and illegal activity. This phenomenon is openly talked about in the Evangelical culture - as a joke. Pastor’s kids and missionary’s kids were well-known to go off the rails with a fair bit of regularity. But, no one asked why. We just shook our heads and laughed. Sometimes the effects were not as obvious, but no less damaging.

In relationships, especially romantic ones, getting angry really wasn’t an option. Going to bed angry was the worst thing a couple to do to each other. Especially if they had kids. Especially if they fought in front of the kids. I’ll write more about the dangers of Evangelical marriage at another time. But, the prohibition against being angry or airing grievances means that no one knows how to have a healthy, fair argument about real hurt. We don’t see it from our Evangelical parents. We aren’t educated in it by our Evangelical pastors or their relationship advice. So, we have no idea what is fair or right or useful to do when we hurt each other in relationships. This leads to unhealthy relationships, some of which are abusive. And of course if you are abused you can’t get help.

It also means that there is no distinction made between different kinds of hurt and anger. All actions are equally bad, and all anger is equally bad. So, Evangelicals are teaching people how not to tell right from wrong. And then teaching them they can’t talk about it when it is, inevitably, very wrong.