It's bandied about the office as the easiest form of small talk. Jacks + Jills use it as bonding currency. It unites us in twisted, self-deprecating friendships. You've probably engaged in it and honed your skills with friends, family and lovers.

It's what we call fat talk.

And it isn't doing us any good. In fact, it's tearing us down and hiding the very best things we have to offer as women and gay men.

As Jess Weiner says in her book Life Doesn't Begin Five Pounds From Now, “fat isn't an emotion.” And it isn't effective to pretend that it is. Fat talk is usually just a decoy that distracts us from the real, more painful emotions we're feeling. Because of that, it is effective to skip the fat talk altogether and identify and address the feelings behind it. This is usually a whole lot harder than it sounds, which is why we use cheap fat talk to mask the emotion in the first place.

Are you panicky about not have a Jack // Jill, or a lover? About not having a support team, people that you can depend on to love you unconditionally? About feeling undervalued by your parents, who always tell you how much you don't measure up to their expectations? Identify the need and work on meeting it instead of wasting your time using fat talk as a decoy. I know this is easier said than done (trust me, I know), but it's so worth it in the long run.

While fat talk may be ubiquitous, it's also incredibly annoying. Often when we use fat talk to communicate, we're crying out for attention or acceptance or affection. Very quickly, though, our partners and friends tire of hearing us complain, particularly when they sincerely try to convince us that we're not fat, to no avail. We end up pushing them away, which is usually the opposite of what we mean to do.

Fat is an adjective, not a judgment

Or at least that's the way it should be. Our society has come to equate “fat” with worthlessness and “thin” with perfection. In actuality, these words are just adjectives. Too often, we use the word “fat” to describe ourselves when we really mean “hopeless”, “disgusting”, “unlovable” or plain ol' “sad”. But it's not an acceptable or appropriate substitution.

The fat acceptance movement is doing something about this and reclaiming “fat” as an empowering adjective, much like many LGBT folks have reclaimed “queer” to identify and empower themselves.

The days of using “fat” as an insult (to yourself + others) are numbered, and thankfully so.

Although activist groups are helping to put fat in its place as an adjective, the pressure from the other side is overwhelming. Fear mongering around fat is a device employed by advertisers to breed insecurity in disadvantaged groups (primarily women + gay men) so that they can “solve” these manufactured problems with their products. Unfortunately, with these air-brushed ideals surrounding us everywhere we go, it becomes difficult to remember that in real life, bodies vary. The pressure to conform to a manufactured ideal becomes too strong to resist.

One of the many negative consequences of this bully advertising is that women suffer from BDD (body dysmorphic disorder) and eating disorders at ten times the rate of men in general, and according to a study by the National Institutes of Mental Health, gay men suffer from eating disorders even more often than women.

The path away from hating our bodies and ourselves is dark and twisty, but I'll break it down for you. Do this diet ::  

Cut the crap. Banish fat talk from your life.

It seems like a small action to take, but it's a start, it's the start. The language you use matters. Why? Because you matter.

Whaddaya say // do to make your Jack // Jill 

feel like a bazillion bucks when he // she is blue?

About the author: Kylie Springman Kylie Springman is a queer writer, photographer and empowerment coach focusing on the intricate art of liking ourselves. She coaches people, photographs them, and wears stripey socks in Brooklyn, Portland and Seattle. Learn more about Kylie.