The problem with "You look healthy"
- emmajcampbell18
- Dec 15, 2025
- 3 min read
A non-exhaustive list of things I don’t like to be told:
Your rego is due
I’m just not looking for a relationship right now
You’re overreacting
I told you so
You’ll find someone when you’re not looking for it
There’s a weekend surcharge
You need to calm down
Allocation exhausted
You look well
You look healthy
Overall, I don’t think it’s too original of a list. I don’t know how many people look forward to the bi-annual reminder that they are to pay $400 to drive their car, or welcome the internal battle of “you know it’s better value for money if you pay it yearly” that accompanies the smugly sealed envelope from the Department of Transport.
Hearing “you’ll find someone when you’re not looking for it” from your happily married friends who want to swipe on your hinge “just to see what it’s like!” is unlikely to instil a great deal of faith in you that the love of your life is waiting for you at the pub down the road.
But what’s wrong with hearing “you look well” or “you look healthy”? After all, they’re compliments, right? Before you revert to number 3 on the list and tell me I’m overreacting, let me explain.
I feel as though context is important here, because for many people, these comments won’t elicit any noteworthy response. Said to the right person, under the right circumstances, they can be harmless and even gladly received. However, as someone who has struggled with an eating disorder, I know there’s almost nothing that has the power to derail you as effortlessly as a seemingly innocuous “you look healthy”.
Hadley Freeman speaks to this in her memoir, Good Girls, where she explores the concept of “anorexia speak”. She writes:
Most people know that anorexics see the world differently from others, but it is less understood that they hear the world differently, too. They don’t just have anorexia goggles on, but also anorexia hearing aids, an electronic device implanted within a sufferer’s ear which re-translates everything they hear into Anorexia Speak. The words “you’re looking good!” become “you’re obese and must never eat again!”
I sometimes think of it like another language, devoid of logical translation, which makes it hard for others who aren’t suffering to learn or understand. It is, however, governed by certain rules, like “i before e except after c” in English. The most important rule to know? Any comment about appearance, appetite, exercise, size and “healthiness”, is almost guaranteed to be twisted into a negative by the eating disorder. Almost as if the mention of the topics opens up the flood gates for the eating disorder, letting it run rampant and grab onto whatever it can to convince the individual to listen to it and continue to engage in disordered behaviours.
Amongst all mental illnesses, eating disorders tend to give rise to the most unsolicited commentary, making these comments hard to avoid. It is an illness that largely affects young women and their bodies, which have long remained the media’s favourite thing to talk about. I’ve never heard of someone saying to a recovering alcoholic, “your eyes are looking less bloodshot!” or “your hands are less shaky!” presumably because the physical effects associated with that mental illness are less interesting to discuss and harder to glamourise. Present society with a recovering anorexic, however, and they will jump at the chance to give their two cents on how “healthy” or “well” or “good” the individual looks, satisfying their need to comment on someone’s body.
But how many people are really struggling with an eating disorder? Is it necessary that we change our dialogue to protect the minority? New research commissioned by The Butterfly Foundation has found that approximately 30% of people have a personal connection to someone with an eating disorder. With that in mind, I think it’s well justified that we are mindful of the language we are using and are aware of our audience. It’s a small thing we can do that can have a big impact on someone’s recovery.
After all, who is to say what “healthy” looks like anyway? And why do we continue to use it as an adjective to describe body types when it reflects so much more than size and weight? If you still feel compelled to tell someone they look healthy after reading this, I encourage you to try and be a bit more specific. Tell the person their skin is glowing or their smile looks brighter or they’re radiating a calmer energy to when you saw them last. Reduce the likelihood of your comment to be misinterpreted and stop perpetuating the idea that people’s bodies are the most interesting and valuable thing about them. It might just make a difference.
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