Snoozy33

Bariatric Dietitian Elizabeth Anderson is no stranger to the faux-pas. She's put her foot in her mouth on more than one occasion.
In her unending quest for improvement, she may have found a solution for navigating the thin line between compliments and criticism.


Lara loves it when people comment on her weight loss. She’s 6 months out from surgery and she’s on top of the world. She admits she gets a little ‘high’ from the positive attention of family, coworkers and even strangers. If someone doesn’t mention her new look, she feels a little irritated. Why haven’t they noticed??
Melissa wishes you would mind your own freakin’ business. She’s three months out from surgery. She considers her weight loss private and wishes everyone would just stop making a fuss over it; it’s embarrassing. For Melissa, it really boils down to this: did she really look so awful BEFORE surgery?
Where do you fall on the spectrum?
I’ll bet there are as many different preferences here as there are people who’ve had WLS.
As a provider, this is a dilemma. Obviously rapid and dramatic weight loss is hard to ignore. My natural inclination is to gush and hug.
But the ‘Melissas’ out there do not want my hero-confetti parade.
Recently, I learned about a new strategy for this conundrum-- thanks to the experts the 13th annual Bariatric Summit in Nashville.
One of the psychologists who’s also a dietitian suggested we all ditch the ‘You look GREAT!’ greeting for our WLS clients.
Why? Because it can lead some people to feel their value/worth/success is rooted in their appearance and weight.
Looking slim? You’ll surely be regaled with, “Fabulous!” and “You look awesome!”
But what if you’ve regained some weight? Are you suddenly less interesting? A failure? Invisible?
And what if people perceive the comment like Melissa, as sort of a velvet hammer or thinly veiled insult, “Thank God she finally did something about her weight.”
I’m not new to this planet people; I know what you’re saying. Yes, our society does put the focus on external appearance. I’m just declaring that I’m joining the movement recognizing the remarkable human inside the body.
And here’s another good reason to hit the pause button on our mouths. Ever been congratulated on a pregnancy that is in essence a poor fitting garment? I have.
While it’s awkward and painful there’s another side to that coin.
Think of all the folks among us--in your own town, that’ve lost a noticeable amount of weight because they’re undergoing chemo or just lost a parent or spouse?
I'm pretty sure they don't want to be told how fantastic they look.
So from here on out, when I see a client for the first time in a few months, I’m going to greet them and take in their energy vibe.
If they’re glowing, I’ll remark that it looks like things are going well and ask if I’m on target.
If they seem down, I’ll remind them how smart they are to stay in touch with a loving support system through the highs and lows after surgery.
I invite you to join me. After all, we’re simply acknowledging what we already know-- our appearance is only the gift wrapping our (presents!) brings to the universe.