Stacy Bias on Comfort and Comfort-Seeking
Stacy Bias speaks about comfort, shame and the roots of compulsion.
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Passions and Interests…Wow, that is an open-ended question, isn’t it? I’m passionate about people, like, my friends, my family, myself — like, life lessons. I’m really passionate about learning. Not necessarily academic learning, but spiritual learning; self-betterment. Music, art, the Internet (I’m such a geek.) Comfort. Making a more comfortable world, like, comfortable for me — in nesting in my home, or comfortable in the world. I feel like without comfort, people can’t be…it’s like Maslow’s Pyramid. The levels of need, of basic need — the basic needs are security, food, shelter, love…and I think that a lot of people are missing that basic thing, which means that nobody can advance because you’re just too busy surviving. So, comfort is definitely a big passion of mine. And activism. Making the world, at least my little corner of it, as much improved as I can.
interviewer: I haven’t heard you talk about comfort before. That’s interesting. What is the relationship between comfort and your fat activism?
Stacy Bias: Well, I feel like there’s a basic level of comfort in our skins that we are not allowed to have, or that we have been taught not to have. Our bodies are tools, right? They’re tools for pleasure, they’re tools for function, they’re tools for…anything we need to do in the world, we do in the company of our bodies. And if we have been taught to disconnect from that, if we’ve been taught to be so uncomfortable about the things that we experience aesthetically about our bodies, or even in terms of mobility - then we lose out on significant experiences. Either we do them, but we’re kind of checked out while we do them, so we’re not present for them, or we just miss doing them at all. So I feel like comfort is a huge — it’s absolutely the root, I feel, of this kind of deprivation model that I’ve seen in all the interviews. I feel like discomfort comes — it’s hard to explain;
When people have talked about eating, they’ve been talking about comfort. When people talk about sneaking off and those kind of moments of zen that they get, you know, just being blank, or just consumed by flavor, or whatever, I feel like comfort is what that’s about. And that means that it’s missing.
Interviewer: How does that work with people finding that, and then not feeling comfortable in their bodies?
Stacy Bias: Well, it’s kind of a catch-22. You’re missing that kind of basic level of comfort and security, safety, love, whatever it is that’s kind of pulling at your rickety foundation. And this obviously is not true of everybody who is fat - I’m just talking about the people who have a common experience to mine; So you go out and you do this comfort-seeking in the form of eating and while it’s actually a truly loving thing for a child who doesn’t necessarily have tools at his or her disposal to create that sort of higher level of comfort for themselves, like, they don’t really have the autonomous control as a child to say “Hey, you’re not making me feel secure, Mom. You’re not making me feel secure, Dad.” Who has the words for that, or even the understanding of that as a kid, so the accessible things become that; TV, friends, food, whatever. We seek comfort. And then there’s the shame that follows immediately, because you’ve done something wrong, because you’re sick to your stomach. Because you weren’t, even though you were, it felt like you weren’t in control in that moment. You weren’t strong enough to stop it, you knew the consequences in that you would be fatter, or you would be sick or whatever - and so it becomes this kind of spiral of self-loathing that leads to more and more acting out, and more comfort-seeking because you’re just furthering that lack of comfort for yourself, and it’s a vicious cycle that is un-fulfilling.
I keep coming back to the fact that, as children, it’s actually a truly loving thing to do for yourself; to provide for yourself. I mean, you’re caring for yourself in that way. ::pause for emotional overwhelm:: But you know, as adults, we grow and we have more autonomous control over our lives, and that habit doesn’t necessarily serve anymore. But it’s really hard to un-do and there’s a lifetime of shame behind that behavior. You’re ashamed of yourself for doing it, other people are ashamed of you based on the proof of having done so, unless you’re bulimic or anorexic, and then you get shamed for a whole other reason — and it’s this incredible circle of shame and self-loathing that’s just simply rooted in wanting to be comforted. It’s such a natural, basic thing, but so frequently missing.
Stacy Bias can be contacted here.























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I really get where you’re coming from here. I just… the same thing has happened to me, in a way, except I was trying to be like the Girls That Could in the books I read. They always ate as much as or more than the boys; it just seemed like that was the way to eat, in order to make people like me. So I did. Later, it turned into hunting for comfort during bouts of severe depression (other issues not related to weight). God, it’s hard.
Thank you for explaining the link between comfort and overeating..I’ve been overeating for most of my life as a coping mechanism, but never really understanding the way in which it served me until I listened to your audio. We were very poor when I was little and I just remember feeling unsafe, insecure, unloved, unappreciated….just worthless. I think it was like food validated me, my existence, because we didn’t have enough of it, and if I was given some, it was like mom saying, “I love you.”, and if I was chastised for eating it, I felt greedy and rejected..So, like you said, I started comforting myself, it was the only thing I could consistently give to myself as I got older and we stopped being so poor. And it just…worked. For whatever amount of time I was overeating I would feel sort of numb to whatever pain was going on inside of me. Overeating is the only way I’ve been connected to my body..feeling the pain wasn’t so much shameful as it was necessary. I felt comforted in knowing my limits, and then going past them because I already knew how my body would react. If I didn’t feel sick to my stomach then I knew I did something wrong, failed at something again, even if what I failed at was overeating.
This year I’ve come up against the brick wall of a personal tragedy, and I’ve not been able to get past it by eating my way through. I felt incredibly betrayed when I realized my usual mode of operation wasn’t going to work. I’m still trying to work my way into a normal relationship with food, but I’m having trouble understanding what normal is for me…Is overeating “loving” for a child, but “unloving” for an adult? I don’t know yet…
Anyway, thanks again for this post, it really made me think.