Today, I got called “ma’am” by a couple of teenagers.

Now, to be fair, I am in my forties, and I understand that to a teenager, anyone over the age of 25 is basically a historical figure. Being born in that late 1900s and all 🤦‍♀️. Still, there was a brief moment where I questioned everything: my age, my skin care routine, and whether I should just go ahead and start collecting decorative throw pillows.

But that’s not actually what this blog is about.

This blog is about another thing that has been haunting my social media feeds lately: the bizarre trend of people saying things like, “If you’re 160 pounds at your weight…”

I’m sorry, what exactly does that mean?

I’m genuinely asking.

Is 160 pounds old? Is it overweight? Is it a moral failing? Did I miss the meeting where we all agreed that a completely arbitrary number on a scale was going to determine someone’s worth, attractiveness, health, or ability to exist in public?

Because here’s the thing: I have been 160 pounds, and at 160 pounds, I was arguably the fittest and healthiest I have ever been in my entire life.

I could do pull-ups.

Not one accidental pull-up where you fling yourself at a bar and hope for the best. I could do twelve pull-ups in a row. For someone who spent most of her life unable to do a single pull-up, that was a huge accomplishment.

Now, can I currently do twelve pull-ups? Absolutely not. At this point, I’m working my way back slowly and trying not to injure myself by sleeping wrong. But I still go to the gym three days a week and lift weights. I do kickboxing-style cardio and Tabata workouts on my off days. I do yoga because it helps with my stiffness and muscle pain. I stay active, and I eat well.

And before anyone jumps in with, “Well, if you’re in a calorie deficit…”

Yes. I know.

As someone who started out over 220 pounds and lost around 80 pounds the first time around, I feel reasonably qualified to discuss weight loss. I have spent years tracking food, exercising, losing weight, gaining weight, and learning how my body works.

Or, more accurately, learning that sometimes my body doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to.

The second time I found myself back around 200 pounds, despite being active and eating well, I felt terrible. My healthcare provider and I eventually came to the conclusion that something wasn’t functioning quite right. That’s part of why I chose to use a GLP-1 medication. And yes, I know some people believe weight loss should only happen “naturally. Sometimes people need help.

Most of us don’t shame someone for taking Tylenol when they have a headache. Sometimes our bodies need support. Sometimes they’re not cooperating despite our best efforts. And honestly, what medical decisions someone makes with their healthcare provider are nobody else’s business.

But none of that is really the point.

The point is that 160 pounds is not a universal measure of health, fitness, attractiveness, or worth.

I’ve met people over 200 pounds who can run 12 miles, lift heavy weights, hike mountains, and are in the best shape of their lives. I’ve met people who weigh 114 pounds who can do the same thing and are strong as hell.

I’ve also known people who desperately wanted to gain weight, build muscle, or have more curves and couldn’t. We talk endlessly about people wanting to lose weight, but we rarely acknowledge that body image struggles happen at every size.

Some people wish they were smaller.

Some people wish they were bigger.

Some people just wish they could feel comfortable in the body they already have.

And honestly, social media trends like this don’t help anyone.

I think this may be one of the dumbest trends we’ve come up with recently. And that’s saying something, because as a society, we collectively watched people eat Tide Pods and thought, “You know what? Let’s film it.”

Why does it matter what someone weighs?

Why are we assigning personality traits, value, and morality to a number on a scale?

A person’s weight tells you one thing and one thing only:

How much gravity affects them.

Everything else—their health, strength, happiness, discipline, genetics, medical history, body composition, and life experience—is far more complicated than a number.

Anyway, if you’ll excuse me, I’m apparently old enough to be called “ma’am,” which means I need to go stretch, drink some water, and yell at social media trends from my front porch.