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My name is Seileshia Calma Goodrem, I am a local Darwin Aboriginal Kungarakan woman, proud mother of four beautiful children, and a project officer at Menzies School of Health Research, living and working in Darwin, Northern Territory (NT).
I have lived with obesity my entire life, and my journey with weight has been challenging since childhood. From the age of nine, food became my source of comfort and a way to cope with a difficult home environment.
My weight journey has gone hand in hand with my mental health journey. My nana, who was a mother figure to me, passed away from bowel cancer in 2023. This hit me hard as she was my biggest support in life and always there for me and my children. Caring for four children with special needs was already difficult, and my weight made everything feel even harder. I relied on food to manage the overwhelming grief I was experiencing.
At my heaviest, I weighed 205 kilograms — a frightening realisation. I knew then that I needed to prioritise my health so I could be there for my children. I tried dieting and managed to reduce my weight to around 190 kilograms. I was 177 kgs before I underwent gastric sleeve surgery in 2023 November. Although the journey has been far from easy, I have made progress. I have continued to stay active. Today, I weigh 140kgs.
My experiences of weight stigma professionally
In the last year and a half, I have been with Menzies School of Health Research working on weight stigma. I recently co-presented some of our research at an obesity conference. As my first time attending a conference and public speaking, this opportunity was both exciting and confronting. Our presentation on weight stigma was deeply personal and important to me.
However, simply preparing to travel brought challenges that most people wouldn’t have to think twice about. I knew I had to get on a four hour flight and before flying, I carefully chose clothing that was smooth and light enough to help me slide into the narrow airplane seats. I avoided heavy fabrics and made sure to use the bathroom multiple times before boarding, as I know from experience that I cannot physically fit into the airplane toilets. I limited how much water I drank before and during the flight for fear of discomfort or embarrassment. I made sure I booked a window seat so I could lean toward the side of the plane and minimise any encroaching on the person next to me.
Asking for a seatbelt extension was another moment that brings anxiety. On this flight, I discreetly asked a flight attendant for one when boarding, but she couldn’t provide it right away. I took my seat, feeling self-conscious as I struggled to walk down the aisle without brushing against anyone. Eventually, she returned with the extension, and I quickly fastened it under my jumper, so it wasn’t visible. Thankfully, on both flights I had an empty seat beside me, which made the experience much easier. Once we arrived at our destination, I was confronted with another anxiety: needing to take a taxi. I feared that the back-seat seatbelt would not fit around me. Fortunately, it did, allowing me to relax.
Walking into the conference venue was both exciting and overwhelming. The energy, professionalism, and scale of the event were inspiring. However, my first concern wasn’t the program, it was whether I would fit into the chairs.
Unfortunately, the theatre had fixed seating, which meant I was squeezed tightly into the chair. My thighs and stomach were compressed, my shoulders encroached slightly into my colleague’s seat beside me, and because of my height, my legs quickly went numb. I tried to move, subtly lifting my toes and shifting my knees just to keep the circulation going. My thighs were sore for hours afterward, but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself or complain.
Throughout the conference, I couldn’t help but notice that I was likely the largest attendee in the room. I had expected that more people living with obesity might attend an obesity event, and that realisation made me feel both isolated and disappointed.
Even basic things like using the bathroom were stressful. The toilets were wall-mounted, and I worried about whether they could support my weight, so I found myself physically holding some of my weight off the seat to avoid breaking it. When I gave my presentation, I had to stand on a podium that I was very worried would break under my weight.
Despite these challenges, the experience was empowering. It reaffirmed the importance of our research highlighting weight stigma, especially within Aboriginal and Torres Strait islander communities. My experience at the conference gave me a deeper understanding of how physical environments, social settings, and institutional design can unintentionally exclude people living in larger bodies.
Final Reflections
Sharing my experience is uncomfortable, but necessary. These are the realities many people in bigger bodies face, not just in their day to day lives, but even in professional and academic settings designed to discuss obesity itself. I am proud of how far I’ve come in my journey, both personally and professionally. I continue to advocate for more inclusive spaces, compassionate understanding, and meaningful change in how we discuss and address obesity, especially for Aboriginal and Torres Strait islander people and women like me.
Seileshia is a Project Officer with Menzies School of Health Research and has strong skills in qualitative research and communication. She is passionate about improving weight stigma especially for Aboriginal people in the Northern Territory.
The statements or opinions expressed in this article reflect the views of the authors and do not necessarily represent the official policy of the AMA, the MJA or InSight+ unless so stated.
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