Telling a woman that she’s fat kindis cruelnot

Don’t throw a wobbly, says obesity expert STEVE MILLER — being told I was four stone overweight was the best thing that ever happened

SuRELY only a very brave — or very cruel — man would tell a woman she’s fat? Yet I have uttered those words to hundreds of women, but they were spoken as an act of kindness.

I’m a weight-loss coach, and having seen first hand the misery and ill health that being overweight can cause, I believe we should use the word ‘fat’ more often.

But I am in the minority. In these politically correct times this three-letter word — that appropriately describes someone struggling to see their own feet beneath the blubber of their belly — somehow has the ability to turn the person saying it into a monster.

That was what was implied by the insults thrown at me earlier this month when I said I had written to Health Secretary Jeremy Hunt, demanding overweight nHS staff wear badges that admit they’re fat — but they are doing something about it.

My rationale was what better way to inspire patients and themselves to stick at a healthy weight-loss regime? Yet nurses have reacted by parodying my plan and taking pictures of home-made badges with slogans such as ‘I’m fat and I don’t care’.

This response saddens me, but it’s also so revealing about our twisted attitude to obesity — that the person who suggests you are fat is the enemy, not obesity itself.

However much you try to gloss over it, the truth is that being fat shortens your life.

nHS figures show 58 per cent of uK women are overweight or obese. The annual cost of obesity to the nHS is a huge £4.2 billion.

Government statistics tell us only three things are more likely to kill you than obesity: smoking, high blood pressure and cholesterol. And being fat contributes to the last two. It is also linked to chronic diseases such as type 2 diabetes, hypertension and hyperlipidaemia, where high fat levels in the blood can lead to the narrowing of blood vessels.

All are major risk factors for life-threatening cardiovascular disease. Obesity even increases your risk of developing cancer.

Knowing all this makes fat shaming, for want of a better phrase, one of the most caring things you can do. (And shame can be used for good as well as bad.)

I speak from a position of first- hand experience, having been a fatty in denial myself. Twelve years ago, when I was in my 30s, I piled on four stone.

I fell into the age- old trap of feeling so comfortable in a long-term relationship that I lost all motivation to exercise or watch what I ate. The fact my partner told me I still looked great, and adored me however porky I got, meant I felt no need to slim.

And yet, being obese had an enormous impact on my confidence and health. I made excuses not to go out because I couldn’t find anything to wear I looked good in. I’d get out of breath climbing the stairs and always felt exhausted. An OLD friend was the one to tell me the truth. She did not hide the shock on her face when we met for the first time in two years and said: ‘God, Steve, you’ve got so fat. You’re losing your looks.’

It was a horrible shock, of course. But it was also the kindest thing she could have said.

She gave me a hug and urged me to do something about it.

The next day I stopped eating rubbish, got off the sofa and started walking every day. Eight months later, I was back to a healthy weight, felt great and my social life was reinvigorated.

I only wished my partner had given me a reality check sooner.

At the time I was working as an HR manager, but my success at losing weight inspired me to become a weight-loss coach.

I was already qualified as a hypnotist. I decided to combine that with the blunt approach my friend had taken with me.

I recall the first time I told a woman she was fat. The business high-flyer in her 40s told me her size 20 figure was stopping her from finding love.

I told her what no friend had ever dared: that she was right.

She flinched, but when I told her we would work together to find the gorgeous, slim woman she deserved to be, she smiled.

Then she thanked me for being the first person to ever tell her she was fat. A year on, she was a size 12 and in a relationship. Over the years I’ve seen women dis- play every emotion when I hit them with the truth: some laugh nervously, others cry or look hurt, while most express instant relief — probably because they know they won’t be able to spend another minute in denial.

In more than a decade, no one has ever walked out on me.

Sure, some will say they’re fat and happy to be so. Of course, they’re free to go ahead and love their curves — but statistically speaking, unless they lose weight, chances are they won’t be around for quite as long as they hope.

And still we tip-toe around the issue, too afraid to tell it as it is. Worse, we do the opposite; so busy urging one another to love our bodies, however fat, that the associated risks are ignored.

It’s all very well repackaging what it is to be fat. To encourage the phrase ‘big is beautiful’; to urge fat women to celebrate their curves; to demand retailers bring out plus-size ranges.

God forbid anyone dares to suggest that people of a healthy weight look good, feel great and live longer. The truth is, they do.

And this is where our thinking is going in the wrong direction — fat acceptance may seem a sign of a tolerant society, but it kills people. How can it ever be OK to encourage someone to feel proud of being overweight, yet abhor people like me when we point out that fat people tend to die early?

And it’s not just about health — being fat affects your looks, too. One client told me she felt so physically sick when she saw her reflection that she had taken down every mirror in her home.

Some dress in the dark so their husbands can’t see their bodies; sex is just a memory as they no longer look or feel desirable; they get out of breath climbing stairs and have no energy to play with their children.

And yet, the people who love them the most are often the first to tell them it doesn’t matter. It seems kinder to insist there’s nothing wrong. BUT society is guilty of great duplicity here. Thin people take a dim view of those who fail to stay in control of their weight.

The very people who are appalled by the prospect of fat shaming are also those who are likely to look at a fat person and see someone who is lazy, greedy and out of control. They won’t say it out loud, but they think it.

Meanwhile, I get stick for suggesting it’s wrong for fat doctors and nurses to be advising patients on lifestyle choices.

It’s time to get over the fear of using the word ‘fat’.

Former fatties thank me for my straight talking. But they also admit to a shared regret: that no one told them months or even years earlier they were fat so they could have done something about it.