Lately, I’ve noticed a strange pattern whenever I run into people I haven’t seen in a while. I barely get a “Hey! How are you?” out before I hear:
“You’ve gotten so skinny!”
“Are you okay? You look a little worn out…”
Or my personal favorite:
“Do you even eat?”
At first, I would laugh it off, make a joke, and switch the topic. I never thought of myself as someone who gets affected by unsolicited opinions—especially from people I’m not close to.
But something has shifted.
After hearing the same comments over and over, I’ve started feeling a kind of tension in me the moment someone stares at me a second too long. I slip into defense mode automatically. Not because I’m hiding something, but because it’s exhausting to feel evaluated like an item on a shelf: too thin, too tired, too something.
For context: I’m 31, perfectly healthy, I eat well, I exercise, I sleep decently, and I’ve basically had the same body type forever. Sometimes I lose a couple pounds during stressful periods, but there’s no dramatic mystery behind it.
A few days ago, I told my boyfriend how much these remarks have started to irritate me… and I was surprised to find out he goes through the same thing—just in reverse.
“For me it’s: ‘You’ve put on a little weight, huh?’” he said with that half-laugh people use when they’re tired of something.
“Especially relatives. It’s like a competition to see who notices your belly first.”
That’s when it hit me: for a lot of people, commenting on someone else’s body has become a form of small talk. They don’t stop for one second to think they might be touching a sensitive spot. Some do it out of habit, some out of awkwardness, some—let’s be honest—just lack tact.
But what we both learned is this:
- someone else’s body is not an automatic topic of conversation;
- we don’t owe polite responses just because someone “was being honest”;
- it’s perfectly okay to set boundaries, even subtle ones.
I’ve started replying calmly but clearly:
“I’m good, thanks. I’d rather not discuss my body.”
There’s usually a tiny moment of awkward silence — but honestly, it’s not my job to fix the comfort of someone who just stepped into my personal space.
My boyfriend, on the other hand, came up with a brilliant, self-ironic reply:
“Yeah, I’m preparing for the lead role in A Regular Person With a Regular Life. Premiere next year.”
And funny enough, it works — people laugh, and the subject changes instantly.
At the end of the day, what really matters is how we feel in our own skin.
Not how many opinions other people have about it.