I went to the butt doctor a week ago. It turned out I had gained more weight. I thought I would have maybe lost weight as my rings seemed to be going on and off ok. But no, I had gained weight, and was now in the obesity zone™.

Had I been here before? I mean, probably. No way for me to know: I don’t have a scale and I don’t weigh myself regularly because I can get real weird real fast about my weight. I stand by that decision.

I have tried getting on a scale backward at the doctor’s once so as to not see my weight. I don’t remember if I explained what I was doing to the nurse, but she said my weight anyway, probably just out of habit. (I hope I didn’t explain what I was doing, that would be so on brand) Since this brave act of medical non-compliance did not even help with the situation, I have since consented to being weighed at doctor’s offices. It causes me a lot of stress tho, I get down to base layers and take off my shoes to get weighed (I wear these mega heavy clogs and explain they weigh four pounds every time). I won’t eat before getting weighed and I try not to drink much either. I am fine with my body and my weight until it is quantified. Then if I have gotten bigger I have failed.

I had been hanging out in the upper range of overweight according to the BMI for at least the last ten years. Maybe longer. I hate to say this but it’s true: I was happy to not be classified obese. I felt I might have better health outcomes if I was overweight but not obese, that’s what doctors always seem to say, right? My own doctor never pressured me to lose weight, but he would occasionally note in my blood work when my cholesterol came back elevated that I should maintain a healthy weight. As in, gaining more weight would be bad. More weight would push me into the obesity zone™.

I am sure that at another time crossing this line would have been upsetting to me. But it isn’t because I am actually healthier than I have been in years. Like I definitely wasn’t doing well the whole pandemic, and when I got attacked by a dog and broke my knee (hello physical disability!) in 2017 I wasn’t doing well either (and for a long time afterward, natch) and honestly I had been feeling pretty bad starting on the day after the 2016 election. So yeah, haven’t been super well for a long time.

All in all, the crossing of the line was pretty unceremonious. A bell didn’t go off, no confetti fell, and most importantly, no one mentioned it. Which, thank god. I feel like my primary care physician might feel obligated to say something, I am already brainstorming what to do if this happens. I have thought of preemptively writing him a letter, “Dear Sir, I am aware I have entered the obesity zone ™. I am a Gen-X woman, so I am fucking weird about my weight. I can tell you I am healthier right now than I have been in years. Please don’t advise.”