“Sexual abuse might play a role in the development of obesity in young black women. Current estimates indicate that about 1 in 4 young women have experienced physical or verbal abuse in dating situations, with black and other minority women suffering the highest risk. “If you look at recurring patterns in teenagers, many girls have had sexual or physical abuse and have never talked about it. Instead of dealing with the issue, they eat.” -Janet Taylor, MD, a psychiatrist at Harlem Hospital in New York City.
Obesity has been significantly associated with a history of sexual abuse. In our nationwide epidemic, black women have the highest rates of obesity. The root causes are paradoxes and misconceptions surrounding obesity. It seems as though you are never on top, or you are never not a victim. You had to deal with the abuse, and as an adult, you suffer more abuse, because you were not given proper coping skills.
Binge eating or BED is at least six times more common in obese people, and three to four times more common in obese people who report a history of childhood sexual abuse. Most people who are abused are told they are ugly and worthless. It has been shown that black women often experience difficulty asking for emotional support. This, combined with a traumatic history, emotional withdrawal, and eating for psychological reasons, compared to their Caucasian counterparts. When you sit back and think about it, it all has to do with being in a Nuclear family where the support system is fairly strong. Where the majority of African American families are non-nuclear households. They are mostly blended with grandparents, step-siblings, and step-parents. In an African American home, abuse can happen, and no one would know, or notice the child acting different. I know that family background, sexual abuse, and obesity all plays into one. I’m not saying that all obese people have been sexually abused. With study after study, it shows being overweight, and sexual abuse go hand and hand.
Most women have difficulty losing weight because they must overcome their demons. Many women equate thinness with attractiveness, and therefore, they eat too much so that sexual offenders will not find them tempting. The fear of becoming a victim again causes most women to not even try to lose weight. They keep gaining and gaining, with the hopes that people who are out to get them cannot because they are not sexually attractive. Some women see being skinny is a sign of weakness, and somehow convince themselves that if I do lose the weight I’m welcoming and saying I want to be a victim again.
In a dream world, we all are healthy and free from any type of abuse, whether it was inflicted on us, or if it was self-inflicted. A better line of communication needs to be established. Beyond sexual abuse, in an African American family, the hand of responsibility is passed down from the single parent to the oldest next in line. In most African American families, there are more than three children, and it is a single parent home. No one is around to keep track of what food is being eaten.
Everything is quick and easy, and on top of that, cheap and processed. When you are presented with a human being that has the responsibility of caring for siblings, with no real supervision around, and you add sexual abuse to that mix. You are presented with a person who was doomed from the start. We internalize everything; this comes out in destructive personalities. Some develop eating disorders. Some become highly sexually active. For the weakest of us, we become binge eaters. What makes matters worse, is that being black you are taught that family business is family business. What’s done in the house stays in the house, and it dare not be repeated.
I’m not saying that these issues are for everyone. There are people who are just down right lazy. You also have people who are like me, people who are scared of losing weight. Some people think being fat is a choice. I personally do not think it is a choice. I feel as though the majority of weight gain is somewhat of a defense mechanism. When you are in the mind of a food addict, you will notice that we do not eat because the food is good. We eat because we need that comfort. I never saw my eating as a problem. I just did it. Eating when you are an addict soon becomes tasteless; we eat and swallow everything so fast. There is barely time to breathe. The addict in me feels the need to hide and sneak, even when I do not have to. I would eat when people were asleep. I’d hide food. I could not just eat one. If I had a pack of cookies, I could not just eat one cookie. I had to eat two or three rows.
Eating in front of people was embarrassing. I would get remarks and ugly looks, and most of it was from the family. Family members would buy food, and bring it into the house knowing my problem. I would be told I could not have it. I’ve learned that I’m a defiant person, and because I was told I could not have something, when everyone was away, I would eat it all. It was an ugly cycle. It never seemed to end. My binge eating started after I experienced a traumatic event at the hands of someone who was supposed to protect me.
I ate when I was depressed; I ate when I was happy. I ate when I was bored. I ate just because it was in the house. I would get called a name, or given an ugly look. I would eat. The whole time thinking “this is why you are fat”. but the action of eating overpowered my common sense and logic. Food was the only thing in my life that did not make fun of me. That did not treat me bad. Food was by my side when I needed something or someone. Food was the best friend that NO ONE could take from me.
My weight, along with my solid build, made me look like a beast. I now learned that being fat was my way of protecting myself. You will not approach someone who is scary and large. It kept people away, so no one got close enough to know the real me. My weight and my size screamed STAY AWAY. Nobody talked to me. I made no friends, which made the likelihood of me getting hurt slim to none. As of today, I still fight my food demons, but I’m learning to quiet them. I was not getting love from the people I should. I never learned to love myself. I soon learned that what I was feeling, and how I was thinking, was not just in my head. I learn that I was not the only one. Eating, being obese, and with a history of abuse; from my view there is no rainbow after the storm.
Sources:
SOURCE: Keith, S.W. “International Journal of Obesity,” advance online publication, June 27, 2006.
By Daniel J. DeNoon
Reviewed by Louise Chang, MD
© 2006, WebMD Inc. All rights reserved
BBW Talks Toys
I don’t understand the reasons for why this is higher in minority groups. Perhaps because it’s easier to quantify. Perhaps because they’re more willing to discuss some things. I’m not entirely sure. I think there’s an equally high number of women from Caucasian families.
Personally, I’m from a culturally-blended family. My mother’s side is Cuban, my dad’s is as white as the driven snow. I am a survivor of abuse and rape. Perhaps there’s a cultural/minority thing involved here. Perhaps it’s the fact that it was a step-parent who abused me. Perhaps it’s just my family is royally f*&^ed up. I don’t know.
I, however, did the same thing. At 12, I was on the border of overweight/healthy. Then I was abused. Now I’m obese. There is some family history of obesity (which is hereditary), but overall, I did it to myself. I also had the same cyclical problem of: They bring food in the house, tell me not to eat it, then I’d sneak it. I became afraid of opening the fridge door as to prevent someone from asking me what I was doing, and started hiding food. I still sometimes hide food, and I am a married woman with children. I don’t have to hide. If I want something, I can just eat it. It’s a hard habit to break.
I no longer see my weight as a defense, but as a disability. Not in the handicap/need assistance kind of way, but in the fact that it hinders me from doing things that I want to do. Luckily for me, I’ve found roller derby. I’m now equipped with the means to exercise in a group of people who love and support me and wish nothing but my success; which is the key to breaking the cycle.