Yup. I’m Still a Fat Life Coach.

A very personal essay on my own body image battles, and why I'm choosing better battles.

I had a passing thought while I was on vacation last year and the question hit me like a ton of bricks:

How much further would I be in my life and career if I wasn’t so self-conscious about how I look?

There I was, sitting poolside on our delightful cruise vacation, strategically covering up my arms and thighs with towels, so nobody would be scarred for life by seeing my less-than-modelesque body. Then I thought, “it’s okay. Nobody here knows me and I’m not famous yet. There’s no chance anyone will know that it’s Coach Jennie hiding underneath this ridiculous terrycloth mountain.”

But I couldn’t shake my initial thought. How long have I sabotaged my visibility because I’m so freaking self-conscious about what I look like?

What opportunities would I have asked for? Would I have applied for a TEDx Talk by now if I wasn’t worried about how fat I am? Why do I assume that my contributions are less valuable because I’m uncomfortable in my body?

And down, down, down the rabbit hole I went.

Some backstory

Did you ever see the time that Mel Robbins — yes, THE Mel Robbins — pulled me on stage to talk about my half-brained idea of writing a blog called Diary of a Fat Life Coach? If not, here’s my onstage coaching moment at “How to Break the Habit of Self-Doubt and Build Real Confidence,” presented by Mel Robbins. (video clip courtesy of CreativeLive)

Yep, that happened. Over five years ago.

It was a powerful, amazing, profound moment on stage with one of my longtime personal heroes. While I decided not to run with that blog idea, it was a pivotal moment that could have (should have?) allowed me to fall in love with my own body.

But it didn’t.

Because you want to know what happened during the break immediately following that moment? A fellow audience member rushed up to me, shoved his business card in my hand, and offered to help me lose weight with his MLM-y milkshakes.

That’s right. Just a few minutes after I finally conquered my fear of being seen, really seen, by thousands and thousands of people, I was accosted by a diet monger who felt the need to remind me that I needed to be fixed.

Now I’d be remiss if I didn’t also mention the loads of hugs and praise I received from others in that room and the CreativeLive staff and allllll over the internet after Mel dragged me off that tiny little stool in front of her massive audience. I still get a message now and then to this day about that moment with Mel. In fact, some of my all-time favorite coaching clients discovered me by watching Mel’s recorded program.

Me and Mel and showing off my book, Hilda. I totally autographed this copy for her. #justsaying

But that moment with the unsolicited diet pusher has stuck in my craw all these years later. Amazing how one voice of negativity can drown out an entire chorus of positivity.

So, I should be over this body image BS…especially given what I do for a living, right? By now, I should have found (or created) some sort of ninja-coaching-mindset-technique that automagically shifts my brain forever, so I never again care about what people think of my body size and shape.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

The hard truth is I’m not over it. I have tried desperately to find “the cure” that’s going to make me stop caring all together about what other people think about my looks. And yet, it’s always, always there. Even when I’m losing weight or having a great hair day, I’m worried about what other people might think about my appearance.

I meet people all the time who flippantly claim that they don’t care what anyone else thinks — and I find myself simultaneously not believing them and wishing I could flip a switch in my brain that would make me equally unembarrassable.

But alas, I’ve never found the switch.

Even when I have lost some weight or get compliments on my fabulous hair, my inner critic finds my next physical imperfection to poke at.

And as isolating as this all feels, I know that I am not alone in this particular flavor of insecurity, especially in the personal development world.

I am just not willing to pretend that it’s not there and act like I’m more confident than I actually am.

Integrity and all that, y’know.

An unexpected solution

So, what to do with all this existential ennui?

I have come to realize that the answer to this battle is to pick a better battle.* Let me explain.

I have come to accept that I may never get over this nonsense. I am probably never going to stop feeling self-conscious in my own skin, and I’m surely not going to find that switch in my brain. I may worry about being judged for my size for the rest of my life. And if I can accept that these thoughts will likely forever come up for me, I can stop working so hard to try to stop having these thoughts in the first place.

I can drop that battle.

I can just let the thoughts come. And acknowledge them. (Yep, there it is again.)

I may never get over this crap. Cool. I can put that battle down.

A better battle for me is to no longer let this insecurity stop me from chasing my dreams and seizing bigger opportunities.

I’m honestly worried right now many of you will think I am a fat cow right now that shouldn’t be talking about this subject, and I’m publishing this article anyway because I want to help as many humans as possible.

I’m mentally preparing for another attack of diet pushers that will DM me after they see my TEDx Talk, and I’m actively seeking the opportunity to give my first TEDx Talk anyway because I aim to stand on that big red dot.

I’m seriously uncomfortable by the idea of being on a stage where onlookers will be able to judge the size of my thighs these days, and I’m actively seeking opportunities to speak on bigger stages with jumbo screens, so people in the back can hear my message.

I am done trying to be done with the insecurity.

Society has etched my body image insecurity into my DNA, and it may follow me around forever. I’ve accepted that my worrying might be with me for life, so I can put down that battle with myself. I mean, it sucks to experience all this inner noise, but it’s not the end of the world.

Not only that, but I can look at how far I have come in my life and business despite being constantly plagued by this concern. And I didn’t come this far to only come this far.

What would suck even more and what would feel like the end of the world is if I don’t allow myself the opportunities that the body-confident Mel Robbinses of the world ask for. It’s my turn to ask for the opportunities I’m actively seeking.

Curves, nerves, and all.

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*Note: Choosing a better battle is what works for me. I’m sharing this personal story in case there is even one more person who needs to hear this perspective. But, as I always say to my coaching clients: take what you like; leave what you don’t.