AITA for refusing to tell my mom my current weight and if I’ve lost any?
A 25-year-old woman resisted when her mother demanded to know her exact weight after she excitedly shared a new walking milestone. Growing up in a family obsessed with numbers and food control left deep scars, turning every meal into a battleground. Now, after yo-yo dieting and newfound success during lockdown, she was finally pursuing sustainable health – 5km walks a day, better choices, and a genuine pride in her endurance.
What made the story more complicated was that her mother couldn’t celebrate without checking her weight, despite being told no just a week before. The daughter was adamant, insisting that she would share when she was ready and wanted the celebration to be about the habit, not the numbers. Her mother became angry, accusing her of being rude, causing the woman to question her boundaries. This clash exposes this generation’s obsession with weight and its hard-won conflict with young people’s body autonomy.

‘AITA for refusing to tell my mom my current weight and if I’ve lost any?’
Childhood in an overweight family bred constant scrutiny and shame.

Crash diets brought temporary wins but ultimate setbacks and new resolve.


Mom’s supportive facade crumbled into insistent weight questions and anger.



A weight-obsessed family environment often creates shame rather than support, programming children to see their bodies as problematic well into adulthood. A daughter’s history of weight-shaming and nagging about food creates a reflex to hide progress unless she meets her parents’ metrics, but her new approach—tracking steps, endurance, mindful eating—signals a deliberate break from that cycle. Refusing to reveal her weight protects the fragile joy she’s cultivating, preventing old triggers from derailing sustainable change.
Critics might argue that a mother’s concern comes from a place of love, especially when the struggles are shared, and that secrecy creates distance. However, forced disclosure ignores the already-documented harm to the daughter from past trauma and risks re-igniting binge eating patterns, as evidenced by her 25-pound loss and partial regain. Socially, this reflects broader changes: younger generations reject the tyranny of weight in favor of holistic signals that require parents to either progress or retreat.
Nutritionist Christy Harrison, author of Anti-Diet, explains: “When families value self-worth, hiding numbers can be a powerful act of self-protection, allowing internal motivation to flourish without external judgment.”
Here’s what people had to say to OP:
Most back the daughter’s boundary, cheering her focus on sustainable health wins.






A few urge gentle reality checks while still respecting her stance.




Light sarcasm slips in to deflate the mom’s fixation without cruelty.


The 25-year-old stands her ground, shielding new healthy habits from the scale-obsessed lens that defined her upbringing. Mom’s anger reveals how deeply numbers still rule her care, while the daughter carves space to redefine success on her own terms—5 km walks, faster times, pride without shame.
Where do you draw the line between parental concern and control? Can families unlearn decades of weight fixation, or does recovery demand distance? If you broke free from similar pressure, what finally worked?
