A Therapist’s Reflection on The Biggest Loser’s Legacy
Watching Fit for TV: The Reality of The Biggest Loser feels kind of like lifting the lid on a polished box you have watched open countless times, only to realize the inside is full of cracks and sharp edges. The Netflix docuseries shows how The Biggest Loser was not just about weight loss, it was about using fat people’s bodies as entertainment.
The result? Millions of viewers were taught that laughing at, pitying, and shaming fat people was not only acceptable but “inspiring.” This message didn’t stay on TV, it seeped into our cultural beliefs, workplaces, families, and even the way we talk to ourselves in the mirror.
Entertainment Overshadowed Care
Contestants were subjected to extreme calorie restrictions, sometimes as low as 800 calories a day, and workouts up to eight hours daily. On top of that, the show weaponized public weigh-ins and body shaming for maximum emotional drama.
But this was not just about the numbers on the scale. The show relied on anti-fat stereotypes, where contestants were often described or portrayed as lazy, unmotivated, or “out of control” until they submitted to the program’s punishing methods. By reducing people to caricatures of “failure,” the show dehumanized them while turning their pain into a production. The dehumanization gave the audience permission to treat the contestants (any anyone who also looked like them) like a spectacle fit for inhumane amusement.
Kai Hibbard, a former contestant turned body-acceptance activist, described the show as an “unhealthy fat‑shaming sh*t show”, making it clear that the environment was hostile, not healing. A blogger described the show saying, “It’s a game show that physically and emotionally abuses fat people for profit, under the guise that fat people deserve and even need to be treated abusively because we are fat.” These quotes remind us that this wasn’t wellness, it was exploitation dressed up as “help.”
They essentially put people on stage, mocking them for struggling, and then calling it a success story only if their body complied to the demands of the people that were shaming them. This not only humiliated contestants but also reinforced cultural fatphobia, teaching viewers that fatness is a repulsive problem that needs to be solved, and that thinness equals beauty and moral goodness.
Hidden Harm: Long-Term Recovery and Metabolic Damage
Years after the cameras stopped rolling, contestants struggled with the lasting fallout. Many regained the weight they had lost, not because of personal failure but because their bodies had been biologically pushed into survival mode. A long-term NIH study confirmed their metabolisms slowed dramatically, almost as if their bodies were fighting to restore balance.
But the emotional harm was just as significant. Contestants were told (implicitly and explicitly) that their larger bodies were unworthy. Anti-fat jokes, public weigh-ins, and “before and after” comparisons reinforced the belief that dignity only comes in smaller sizes. For many, the real battle wasn’t just regaining physical health, it was learning how to undo the shame and stigma drilled into them on national television.
Emotional Trauma and Lack of Aftercare
For people recovering from high-demand systems, cults, or controlling environments, the emotional dynamics of The Biggest Loser might feel familiar. The show:
Exploited contestants’ vulnerabilities, presenting the program as their “last chance” at worthiness.
Weaponized anti-fat language, reinforcing that being in a larger body was synonymous with failure or lack of discipline.
Built entire “temptation challenges” around exploiting emotional hunger and desperation, mirroring how high-control systems manipulate needs for belonging and approval.
The lack of aftercare left contestants carrying trauma alone. Instead of support, they were left with cultural stigma and internalized shame, a cycle many survivors of controlling systems know all too well.
Reconstructing Health: What Sustainable Healing Looks Like
If The Biggest Loser was about spectacle, healing is about dignity. It is not about shrinking your body for others’ approval but about reclaiming your relationship with yourself.
Reclaim Your Physical Compass: Instead of restriction, focus on nourishment and joyful movement. Healing is like repairing a compass… it takes time to find your own true north again.
Nourish Emotional Safety: Boundaries act like walls, keeping out toxic voices that equate worth with weight. Therapy and safe communities can help replace anti-fat narratives with compassion.
Reconnect with Values: The show equated thinness with empowerment. True empowerment comes from aligning choices with your values (connection, curiosity, kindness), rather than the number on a scale.
Seek Long-Term Support: Healing from systemic fat-shaming requires ongoing care, respect, and patience.
Healing requires unlearning those messages and building a foundation of compassion, dignity, and sustainable care. It is my personal belief that healing needs to be yours, and not directed by anyone else (especially unhealthy systems and exploitation).
I am not anti-weight loss. I am also not an unqualified person recommending weight loss advice. But I am a mental health provider who recognizes how the anti-fat stereotypes that exist in programs like the Biggest Loser end up motivating weight loss through shame and self-hatred, rather than health and healing. And my wheelhouse is in working with shame and negative self-beliefs that are holding you back. I am firmly in the camp of belief that weight loss (should you choose) needs to be at your discretion, and with your overall health in mind rather than a sole focus on appearance and numbers on a scale. At Revitalize Wellness Counseling, I work with clients who are seeking to reclaim their agency, rewrite the stories they have been told about their bodies, and heal beyond shame-based systems.
Why This Matters for Your Healing Journey
For many survivors of religious trauma, high-demand systems, or cults, The Biggest Loser can serve as a painful mirror. Both rely on shame, control, and the exploitation of vulnerability. Both perpetuate harmful language that equates conformity with worth. And both leave people with deep wounds when the system inevitably fails to care for them.
Fit for TV uncovers what was hidden beneath the glitter: a system that commodified fat people, perpetuated harmful stereotypes, and normalized anti-fat language for mass consumption. But unlike reality TV, your healing does not have to be performative. It can be slow, steady, and rooted in compassion, for your body, your story, and your worth.
Reach out to start therapy or to learn more.
Resources:
You Just Need to Lose Weight—and 19 Other Myths About Fat People by Aubrey Gordon
Maintenance Phase podcast (co-hosted by Gordon and Michael Hobbes) – explores myths about health, dieting, and fatness with humor and evidence
NIH research on long-term metabolic outcomes of Biggest Loser contestants (NY Times summary)
Disclaimer:
⚠️ The content on this blog is intended for informational and educational purposes ONLY and should NOT be considered a substitute for professional mental health care, diagnosis, or treatment. Reading these posts does not establish a therapeutic relationship.
If you are currently in crisis, experiencing thoughts of harming yourself or others, or are in need of immediate support, please call 911 or contact a crisis line such as the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 (U.S.) or access your local emergency services.
These blog posts are written to explore topics like trauma, religious deconstruction, cults, identity development, and mental wellness in a thoughtful and compassionate way. They may (or may not) resonate deeply, especially for those healing from complex trauma, but they are NOT meant to replace individualized therapy or medical care.
