Why it’s time to stop blaming our bodies: How weight stigma harms us

Yvie:
This podcast is recorded and produced on the land of the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin Nation. We pay our respects to Elders past and present and extend that respect to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people who may be listening.

Welcome back to another episode of Let’s Talk, a podcast from Butterfly Foundation. I’m your host, Evie Jones, and today we’re diving into the mind-blowing world of weight stigma with two very authentic and vocal fat activists.

You may laugh out loud — and you may also decide you want these women as your new best friends.

Demi Lynch is a researcher and journalist from Kaleidoscope News. April Helene Horton, also known as The Bodzilla, is a body diversity advocate and well-known content creator. They’ll be sharing their no-holds-barred views on stigma and stereotyping, dating and relationships, the disconnect between health and healthcare, and what it really means to take up space.

This conversation may be tough to hear if you don’t know what it’s like to live in a larger body. But it will help you understand. And if you do live in a larger body, Demi and April are here to remind you that you’re not alone — and that with them in your corner, there is hope.

Let’s start with a bang. Gals, what is weight stigma, and what does it mean to you personally? Demi, let’s start with you.

Demi:
Oh — okay. How do I even start? There’s so much I could say. As a neuro-spicy person, I’m going to try very hard not to talk for two hours… let’s see how I go.

For me personally, weight stigma is something I’ve felt my entire life, regardless of my body size or weight. My weight always seems to be up for discussion — something that has to be commented on before people even consider me as a person.

It’s always the elephant in the room. And it’s something that absolutely needs to be spoken about more. At its core, weight stigma is a systemic cultural bias against fat people. It makes us feel dehumanised and disrespected.

And it’s not something that affects us occasionally — it affects us every single day. Feeling that stigma in everyday life is exhausting. It’s just… crap. Truly.

Yvie:
April, you’re a body diversity advocate. What’s your take? Do you agree with Demi?

April:
Totally. Weight stigma is the language we use to describe that feeling — when you know someone is looking at you differently. When you can tell they’re thinking about how you look instead of what you’re saying. That’s weight stigma.

It’s no secret that in the past I had weight-loss surgery. I didn’t always have this awareness. And realising that my body was never actually the problem — and noticing how differently people treated me after — was confronting.

At first, my brain went, “Oh, so this is confirmation bias. You did the thing.” But then I realised: yes, I changed something — but I was never the issue.

That’s why I try to make space for conversations with people who don’t live in fat bodies. Because you really can feel the difference. And while weight stigma intersects with many systems, the discomfort is palpable.

Yvie:
Yeah — and anyone who’s gone from fat to thin knows that look. That different gaze. For me, it made me angry. I became resentful.

I thought, “Oh, now you accept me?” I did everything to be accepted — and when I finally was, I was furious, because that was the only way I could get it. That’s when I realised maybe I wasn’t the problem.

Was that the same for you?

April:
Exactly the same. At first it’s like, “Look at me — everyone thinks I’m hot.” You enjoy it for a bit. I met my husband, had a baby — and then my body changed again.

Suddenly it was, “Oh, you look so cute with your bump.” And I thought, hang on — no one liked my body when it was just me being fat.

Yvie:
What’s the difference?

April:
Exactly. And then I thought about my kid. I don’t want them growing up wondering which body shape is acceptable. That’s when I got really angry — and decided we weren’t doing that anymore.

Yvie:
Demi, you’ve researched plus-size dating — a space where stigma gets very personal. What did you find?

Demi:
I surveyed nearly 700 women and non-binary people who identify as plus-size or mid-size. As a plus-size woman myself, the results weren’t surprising — but seeing the numbers was still confronting.

Fifty-nine per cent experienced fat-shaming on dating apps. Fifty-four per cent had been fetishised.

It’s validating to know you’re not alone — but devastating to know so many others have been hurt too.

One trend that stood out was profile photos. If you only show your face, you’re accused of catfishing. If you show your whole body, people think it’s an invitation to bully you. I’ve had matches say things like, “I’d never date a fat bitch.”

Many respondents said they no longer use dating apps — or date at all — because of repeated abuse. The idea that you can’t even exist in the dating world without fear of being harmed is heartbreaking.

Yvie:
And fetishisation plays into that too, doesn’t it?

Demi:
Absolutely. Many people described feeling like their bodies were being controlled — expected to stay a certain size for their partner. Whether someone wants your body bigger or smaller, that’s still control. That’s abuse.

Often, concerns were dismissed with, “Just be grateful your partner loves your body.” But that ignores the power dynamic. Fetishisation isn’t love — it’s dehumanising.

Yvie:
It’s ownership, isn’t it?

Demi:
Exactly. Treating someone like their body is a novelty or a bragging point is disturbing. That’s very different from genuinely loving and respecting someone.

Yvie:
Outside dating, weight stigma also drives poorer health outcomes. How does that show up?

Demi:
For many people, going to the doctor feels unsafe. The chairs are too small. The rooms don’t feel welcoming. So people avoid appointments — and that affects their health.

Fat people are constantly told to “just lose weight” — no matter the issue. Sore elbow? Lose weight. Ingrown toenail? Lose weight.

That dismissal leads to delayed diagnoses and devastating consequences. It’s a huge problem in healthcare.

April:
I’ve cried in my car after appointments for that exact reason. Now I ask, “Would you give me the same advice if I weren’t this weight?” You can literally watch them buffering.

Yvie:
I ask doctors to write it down. If they’re saying my weight is the only issue, I want that in writing. Funny how quickly things change after that.

Demi:
It also comes down to basic accommodations. I was 29 before a nurse told me my blood pressure could be taken on my forearm or leg. Twenty-nine years of pain — completely avoidable.

That shouldn’t happen.

Yvie:
April, you’re one of Butterfly’s ambassadors and one of Australia’s most recognisable body diversity advocates. What’s it been like taking up that space publicly?

April:
Validating — and exhausting.

It’s incredible to have people say, “That’s exactly how I feel.” But being the person who explains everything, every day, takes a toll.

I turned 40 this year. I lost my mum last year. I’ve had to recalibrate.

Being a Butterfly ambassador matters to me because they genuinely care. They don’t expect constant output. They support the human behind the advocacy — and that makes all the difference.

Yvie:
How can media and brands move beyond tokenism?

April:
Hire more than one person. Stop fixating on a single “acceptable” fat voice. Fat liberation means creating opportunities for all fat people — not just the ones who perform the way you like.

And maybe — radical idea — build actual relationships with diverse people.

Yvie:
Final question. If someone listening is still blaming their body for not being “healthy enough”, what would you want them to hear?

Demi:
Your health does not determine your worth.

We’ve become obsessed with health as a moral measure. But health is complex — physical, mental, emotional, social, spiritual. None of it makes you more or less deserving of respect.

And sometimes, surviving is the priority. That’s being human.

April:
You don’t have to be healthy to be worthy of care and love.

Health is relative. Bodies change. Sometimes you can’t “fix” things — and that doesn’t mean you’ve failed.

Health is doing the best you can with the body you have, and being kind to yourself when life makes that hard.

You still deserve support. Always.