Fat Phobia Killed My Best Friend - And This is What It Taught Me About Advocacy
Fat phobia doesn’t always look like cruelty. Sometimes it looks like being ignored – until it’s too late.
My best friend, Carmen, woke up one day sensing that something was wrong with her body. Carmen didn’t wait - she went to her GP and explained what she had been feeling. Her GP listened, but within minutes, she already had a verdict: Carmen needed to lose weight. No blood tests, no scans, no probing questions. The doctor was so adamant that Carmen assumed that she must be right. After all, doctors had been telling her for years that she needed to lose weight.
Only Carmen was right - something was seriously wrong with her.
For over a year, Carmen kept going back to her GP: “I don’t feel right. There’s something seriously wrong with me.” But the GP didn’t relent – Carmen needed to lose weight. She eventually ordered a blood test. It showed some iron deficiencies, but nothing alarming. No scans, no MRIs.
When, 7 months later, Carmen suffered a pulmonary embolism, the GP decided that it was unrelated. She insisted that weight was the issue. Carmen didn’t know where to turn.
A few months later, Carmen noticed bleeding from her vagina. As a post-menopausal woman - this wasn’t normal. She immediately went to see her gynaecologist. When the gynaecologist examined her and retrieved the speculum, blood poured out of her accompanied by a terrible, rotten smell. Carmen was mortified, but the gynaecologist and nurse were kind – they knew what that meant. “I wish you had come to me sooner,” the doctor said. He didn’t say more, only that she had to see an oncologist.
Carmen died about a month later. As she lay there in her hospice bed, unresponsive, I sat with her son, looking at my friend and wondering how it had come to this.
Carmen was 54 years old and had a history of uterine fibroids - a well-known risk factor for uterine cancer - the cancer she was eventually diagnosed with. As a black woman, she was statistically more likely to experience both. These symptoms and her medical history should have raised alarm bells.
After her diagnosis, her GP kept trying to call her – Carmen never answered, of course. It wasn’t her job to alleviate her guilt.
Bias kills – not just through neglect, but disbelief.
I could end this story and say that fat phobia was the only issue here - but the truth is more complex.
In 2021, a UK NHS study on 1.3 million patients found that women were 32% more likely to die when operated on by a male surgeon.
This study reflects gender bias, but that isn’t solely relating to men. Carmen’s GP was a woman. She was white and Carmen was black, which could also have been a factor.
All we know for sure is that fat phobia –the assumption that body weight is a major factor in health – was a factor, and it’s such a skewed notion. My mother was slim and yet, she developed cancer. For over a year, her symptoms were also dismissed by her male GP. When she was finally diagnosed, chemotherapy afforded us three months to say good-bye.
When society tells women their symptoms are “all in their heads” – or blame their bodies – the results are fatal.
Bias doesn't only extend to men, women with internalised misogyny, or even racism… A 2025 UK study showed that AI tools used by local health agencies were downplaying women’s health issues because AI is trained on what we know.
And the current medical infrastructure might unwittingly be the biggest driver of all. Most doctors are competent and kind, but they’re also vastly overworked. A study by the National Health Agency reported that overworked health workers are “past the point of exhaustion”. On average, doctors have a fifteen-minute time slot to assess each patient. Fifteen minutes to determine how concerning your health issue is, and fifteen minutes to decide whether further tests are justifiable and within budget. This is further compounded by our own propensity, as women, to downplay our symptoms and accept what the doctor says.
What Can Women Do to Overcome Bias
Here are a few steps you can take when preparing for a doctor’s appointment:
List all your symptoms in a journal – even those that seem unrelated.
Be clear about what you want to achieve from the consultation.
Don’t leave until your questions are answered.
If you’re feeling anxious, bring a friend or family member.
These are some of the tools that I share in Reboot Your Story, and my six week course, The Deep Reboot, which also explores how our own personal wounds – the emotional and psychological imprints we carry – affect how we advocate for ourselves.
My Own Fight to Overcome Bias
Carmen’s and Mum’s experiences deeply affected me. When perimenopause hit, my hormonal changes and personal wound collided, triggering overwhelming health anxieties. Research shows that women who have experienced trauma are more likely to suffer anxiety during perimenopause, which made a lot of sense to me.
So, I began the same healing journey I now teach. It took three doctors before I found one who finally prescribed what I needed.
Self-advocacy never stops - I’ve just started working with a somatic psychologist to release the physical residue of old stress. Choosing healing, joy, and purpose in life is an ongoing process.
How Advocating for Ourselves Make Us Stronger
Carmen’s and Mum’s experience were my call to action. Speaking out made me stronger. It made me feel like I was speaking out for them, too. Today, I am standing on their shoulders – and sharing their stories with pride.
Carmen Henry was a 54 Black woman, who was incredibly smart, outrageous, joyful, and hilarious. Her poetry was exquisite. There were so many layers to her, and people admired her presence and poise. Her weight was inconsequential to the person that she was.
Carmen was also my best friend, and she deserved better. My Mum deserved better. I deserve better. We all do.
If you’d like to learn how to advocate for yourself, explore your personal wound, or find more joy in your life, check out the following:
