My Body Was Labeled an Ongoing Condition.

There are moments that stay with you — the kind that make your stomach drop, even after years of doing the work to love and reclaim your body.

For me, it wasn’t even said out loud.I found out by reading my medical records online — seeing that my BMI had been quietly documented as an “ongoing condition.

”No conversation, no explanation — just a quiet note tucked into my chart, as if labeling my body that way was a medical courtesy to “avoid making me uncomfortable.”

And somehow, that silence felt worse than if they’d said it to my face.

Because what that quiet note really said was this: we still see your body as something to fix.

And it left me wondering — why are we still using BMI at all?It’s outdated, rooted in racism and ableism, and tells doctors nothing about who I am, how I move, or what health means to me.

They probably thought they were being kind. But finding out later — on my own — that my body had been reduced to a number in a file? That wasn’t kindness.It was compliance with a system that punishes bodies like mine.

Because if they truly cared about my health, they’d talk to me about my recovery, my training, my sleep, my stress, my strength — not my BMI.

And here’s the thing — this wasn’t a doctor who didn’t know me.We’ve talked about my eating disorder recovery, my work in fat liberation, and what it means to coach large-bodied folks with care.

I’ve even shown her videos from the Masters World Championships — proof of how I move, train, and honor my body through healing, not harm.I told her directly that I needed a provider who was aligned with Health at Every Size®, or at the very least, weight-neutral.

She nodded. She listened. She seemed to get it.And then… I found “BMI: ongoing condition” quietly written into my chart.

That moment felt like a betrayal — not just of me, but of every person who’s ever dared to advocate for themselves.

Because when a provider says they “understand,” but still documents your body as a problem, it’s not care.It’s compliance with a broken system.

And I know I’m not the only one.So many of us in larger bodies discover later — quietly, invisibly — that the system still sees our bodies as conditions, not people.

This is the quiet violence of medical fatphobia.It hides behind polite language, “standard procedures,” and “objective measures.”But the message is the same: Your body isn’t normal. Your body needs fixing.

Except it doesn’t.My body has carried me through grief, through healing, through heavy lifts and harder days.It’s weathered trauma and recovery and still shows up for me every single day.

My body isn’t an ongoing condition — it’s an ongoing lesson in resilience.And it deserves respect, not reduction.

So when I say I’m tired of weight-loss meds, diets, and medical checkboxes defining “health,” this is why.Because weight loss is not medical treatment.It’s not a cure.And it’s definitely not the only path to health.

There’s nothing wrong with caring for your body — but there is something deeply wrong when people are bullied, shamed, or silenced into believing that thinness equals wellness.

You don’t have to shrink to be worthy.You don’t have to disappear to be respected.Your body is not a problem to solve.

✨ My body isn’t a condition — it’s a testament to strength, survival, and self-trust.

✨And I’ll keep using my voice, my platform, and my lifts to remind others:

We deserve care that sees us — not just our BMI.