Meri Bhavya Life Isn’t Representation — It’s Humiliation: Why TV Networks Must Stop Turning Plus-Size Characters into Punchlines

When Meri Bhavya Life was first announced, many of us hoped we were witnessing a cultural shift. A plus-size South Asian woman in the lead role? It sounded like a win for inclusivity — finally, someone who looked like us might be seen, heard, and respected on screen.

But that illusion shattered quickly.

What could have been a groundbreaking moment for body positivity and representation has become yet another humiliating spectacle. Instead of telling the story of a complex woman navigating the world in her own skin, Meri Bhavya Life turned its plus-size protagonist into a walking punchline — stripping her of dignity, depth, and humanity.

The Missed Opportunity

Rather than challenging harmful norms, the show reinforces them. In Episode 3, Bhavya’s lehenga rips at a family wedding, with relatives giggling and one character bluntly saying, “Yeh silai ki nahi, size ki galti hai.” The scene could’ve been a moment of empowerment or resilience. Instead, it devolved into another tired “fat girl” joke — played not for truth, but for shame.

In Episode 6, Bhavya’s love interest tells her, “Tu sweet hai, but not like… date material.” Again, this moment could have unpacked society’s shallow beauty standards — but it didn’t. It simply confirmed them, further embedding the idea that plus-size women are inherently unworthy of love or desire.

And in Episode 9, the writers take it a step further when Bhavya’s own mother, a woman who should’ve offered unconditional support, tells her to eat less if she ever wants to get married — all while the laugh track plays. If that’s not tone-deaf writing, what is?

The Real-Life Consequences

These scenes aren’t just bad television — they’re harmful.

We, as plus-size women, are already battling judgment from our families, coworkers, friends, and even strangers. We are constantly told to shrink — not just our bodies, but our personalities, our dreams, and our space in this world. When shows like Meri Bhavya Life turn our experiences into a spectacle, they give permission for that ridicule to continue in real life. They validate the taunts, the microaggressions, the unsolicited “advice,” and the belief that our worth is conditional — based solely on our size.

This isn’t about being “woke,” “cool,” or following trends. This is about dignity. About the right to exist without being mocked. About the need for storytelling that heals, not harms.

Enough with Lazy Writing — We Deserve Better

To the creators, writers, and producers of Meri Bhavya Life: this wasn’t representation. It was degradation. You had the opportunity to portray a plus-size woman as joyful, loved, desirable, and layered — but instead, you leaned into cruel tropes and lazy writing.

And to the broader South Asian media industry: plus-size women are not your jokes. We are not your burden. We are not plot devices for comic relief.

We are real people — and we deserve stories that reflect our complexity, not just our clothing size. We deserve characters who are allowed to be powerful, romantic, stylish, vulnerable, and human — not just a punchline for skinny audiences to laugh at.

So here’s the message, loud and clear:

We’re not your jokes.
We’re not your burden.
We’re not here to shrink for your comfort.
We’re here — and we deserve better.