What if I still want to lose weight?

Making space for body image grief, autonomy, and nuance in Intuitive Eating

May 14, 2025

Photo credit: Courtney Brice Photography

Let’s talk about the part of Intuitive Eating that gets tangled up in shame the fastest: body image.

As a Registered Clinical Counsellor and Certified Intuitive Eating Counsellor, I’ve worked with hundreds of clients who tell me the same thing:

“I want food freedom… but I still want to lose weight.”
“I’m trying to accept my body… but I can’t imagine never wanting to change it.”
“I feel like I’m doing it wrong.”

Sound familiar?

If so, you’re not alone. These conflicting feelings are not a sign of failure — they’re a sign of being human in a culture steeped in fatphobia, beauty ideals, and body-based oppression.

Let’s name the myth that fuels this shame spiral.

Myth #3: To do Intuitive Eating “right,” you must give up all desire to change your body.

This myth often sneaks in subtly, even within anti-diet spaces. The messaging goes something like this:

“If you really embrace Intuitive Eating, you’ll stop caring about your weight.”
“If you still hope for weight loss, you’re stuck in diet culture.”
“If you don’t love your body, you’re doing it wrong.”

The real problem: this way of viewing the body creates a false binary:
Love your body completely OR be immersed in toxic body hate

This either/or thinking is just another form of perfectionism — and it’s equally unsustainable.

Why this myth hurts

Here’s the truth: body image healing isn’t linear — and it doesn’t have to look like the romanticized version of “body love” we see on socials where we love every inch of our bodies all the time.

For many people, especially those in marginalized or stigmatized bodies, it can feel impossible — or even unsafe — to fully embrace their body as it is. Wanting to feel more comfortable or protected in a smaller body isn’t a moral failure. It’s a survival response in a world that continues to devalue and marginalize fat, disabled, aging, and racialized bodies.

Believing you have to “arrive” at some kind of radical acceptance before you’re allowed to nourish yourself, move your body joyfully, or trust your hunger just reinforces another set of unattainable standards.

((yeah, read that again — really let it LAND))

And when people don’t meet those standards? Shame creeps in — and so does the urge to give up on the practices of Intuitive Eating.

And here’s the real truth bomb…

When Intuitive Eating becomes another rigid framework — one where you’re only “doing it right” if you’ve completely “let go” of all body image struggles — we fall into the same trap diet culture sets for us: perfection or failure.

Instead of liberating us, this myth can trigger the very shame and self-judgment we’re trying to move away from by rejecting Diet Culture.

And here’s the deeper irony. Shame doesn’t create sustainable change — it shuts us down.

A nuanced alternative: body neutrality & respect

That’s why many people find body neutrality a more realistic and compassionate path.

Body neutrality is an approach to body image that emphasizes function, experience, and respect over appearance or aesthetic appreciation. It encourages individuals to develop a neutral or non-judgmental relationship with their body, focusing on what the body does rather than how it looks. Rather than promoting body love or positivity, body neutrality aims to decrease body-related preoccupation and reduce shame, especially for those in bodies marginalized by dominant beauty standards.

Unlike body positivity, which can sometimes feel unrealistic or inaccessible, particularly for people who experience weight stigma, chronic illness, or body-based trauma—body neutrality allows space for complex or ambivalent feelings while still supporting self-care and bodily autonomy.

(nerd out here, here, here, and here)

The bottom line:

You don’t need to wake up loving your reflection to treat your body with kindness today. You can hold complex, even contradictory feelings, and still choose to nourish and support your body.

Body respect becomes the anchor — the quiet, resilient alternative to shame and rigidity.

On the soapbox: bodily autonomy is not up for debate

Bear with me here. I want to speak up about something that might rub some folks the wrong way. But I think a little internal friction here is important (because it’s pointing us to a very important issue).

Therapist side-note: in general when something gets our guard up, there’s an opportunity to be curious and lean into the discomfort. Doing so helps us identify why we’re so charged by something. That charge is an invitation to look inward and unpack what’s really there (for us). And this insight is invaluable. If you find yourself charged by what I’m about to say, awesome, I hope you’ll accept my invitation to lean in and be curious.

I’ve recently felt frustrated as I’ve noticed the way public figures like Lizzo, Adele, and Meghan Trainor are facing significant public scrutiny and backlash after visibly losing weight. Critics argued that their transformations could reinforce harmful weight-loss ideals or feel like a “betrayal” of their previous status as a rare mainstream figure in a non-thin body. Others have accused them of reinforcing diet culture narratives.

If I’m being 100% transparent (as I’ll always attempt to be here), at first I too felt these criticisms, but I also didn’t feel good about my judgment (there’s that friction I’m mentioning). So I did exactly what I’m inviting you to do - I looked inward.

Here’s what I came to…

Lizzo, Adele, and Trainor never claimed to represent a movement — their body simply became a symbolic battleground for others’ projections (mine included).

I felt seen by these individuals. They were seemingly succeeding in a fatphobic industry in the bodies they were in — the very bodies the fatphobic culture marginalizes (bodies I could relate to). My assumption was that they’d found a way to rise above the pressure to adhere to the thin ideals of Diet Culture — and that was inspiring — hopeful even. To me (and many others) it felt like they were rewriting the narrative entirely and at times even speaking the the BS of Diet Culture in songs like “All About That Bass” (Trainor) and “Good As Hell” (Lizzo).

And then their bodies changed. And it felt like a slap in the face.

They gave us body-positive anthems, and how their bodies are changing?!

((like I said, I felt it too!))

But here’s the (real) issue at hand:

These examples illustrate how public figures are often held to rigid expectations when it comes to body image — expectations that mirror the all-or-nothing thinking many individuals struggle with in their own healing. These cases also underline the core truth of body autonomy: no one owes the public consistency in their body or their health decisions.

And our response to their changing bodies reveals something deeply harmful:

We treat people’s bodies like movements. We attach meaning, morality, and expectation to them.

But the truth is no one owes the world a consistent, perfectly packaged relationship with their body. Not Lizzo. Not Adele. Not Meghan. And not you.

Whether someone chooses weight loss, weight neutrality, or weight gain — their body is not a statement for our consumption.

This is what bodily autonomy means. It’s the right to choose how we care for ourselves, free from external judgment or ideology — including from the anti-diet world.

And this matters (deeply). Because the body shame that results from this attached meaning, morality, and expectation? It’s costing us — in big ways.

The cost of shame on health and well-being

Research consistently shows that shame does not motivate positive change — in fact, it does the opposite:

This study found that self-criticism and body shame were associated with disordered eating behaviors and made it harder for participants in weight programs to engage in sustainable self-care.
This review revealed that internalized weight bias — essentially, shame turned inward — was linked to depression, low self-esteem, avoidance of exercise, and increased binge eating.
Another study on shame in healthcare settings found that people who felt judged for their body size were less likely to engage in health-promoting behaviors or seek medical care.

These findings reinforce what many of us know intuitively: shame is not helpful here. It’s not “motivating” nor does it drive healthy change. Body shame is toxic and harmful to our mental and physical health (oh the irony).

What this means for Intuitive Eating

If you’re still hoping Intuitive Eating might “work like a diet” and change your body — that doesn’t disqualify you. It just means you’re human in a fatphobic culture.

If you're grieving the body you used to have — or the body you hoped to create — you're not doing it wrong. You’re processing what it means to live in a body that’s constantly scrutinized.

And if you’ve decided to pursue body change for any reason at all — that’s your choice, your right, your autonomy.

Intuitive Eating isn't about getting it perfect. It’s about coming home to yourself — with curiousity, compassion, and consent.

Practices to explore…

If this resonates, here are a few gentle practices to help you reconnect with your body in a shame-free way:

Journal Prompts: “What do I believe weight loss would give me?” Explore the deeper need beneath the desire — is it safety? Belonging? Confidence? Then ask, “How else might I meet that need?”
Mindful Movement: Move your body today not to change it, but to care for it. Stretch, walk, or dance — just because it feels good.
Boundary Practice: Notice when conversations about bodies or weight feel harmful. Practice saying, “I’m working on relating to my body in a new way — can we talk about something else?”

TLDR: what I hope you take from this article…

“Body positive” doesn’t mean body adoration 100% of the time.
You don’t have to love what you see in the mirror to take care of your body.
You don’t have to meet anyone’s expectations — even your own to be worthy of love and belonging.

You get to decide what healing and health looks like — for you.
You get to choose how you care for your body (and that might change day to day, week to week, and year to year).
And no matter what that looks like — you still belong here.

Onward in thriving,

Gillian