Wednesday, March 3, 2010


Yesterday I met a woman - a brilliant artist named Patricia - who gave me a complete paradigm shift.

I may end up living with her, and that excites me.

While discussing weight issues, the word "fat" was used, and I mentioned that I find that word highly objectionable, and it may be the one I hate the most.

My new friend then noted that, when one is told "You are fat," it is not merely a physical description.
Often, after a long period of hearing oneself declared as "fat," it's very easy and likely to draw the following conclusion:
Not only am I fat, but that's ALL I am.
I am not a complex, spiritual being with emotions, desires, beliefs, values and talents.
FAT negates the possibility that I could ever be anything else.
The whole of my being resides in the blubber that my body carries.

This notion, when I clearly identify it in those terms, is so preposterous and so SAD.
But it definitely describes what I came to believe about myself for many, many years.

I couldn't be pretty or interesting or smart or lovable, because the word FAT encapsulated my entire identity.

It's as if one were to say, I am freckled arms, I am bony knees, I am tiny earlobes.

I'm an avid fan of Kevin Smith, and the recent controversy involving Southwest Airlines sparked many different emotions inside of me.

I read so many cruel comments that seemed to be asking, "Why don't fat people just lose weight?"
That question is akin to approaching a homeless person and asking, "Why don't you just get a job?"
As Michael J. Fox once said, we all have our bag of hammers to lug around.

Support and acceptance are warmly welcomed.
Scorn and cruelty are uninvited.


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