Fat in America

One of my biggest fears in life is tuning into the evening news when they’re doing one of those stories about the terrors of obesity.  You know the ones – they talk about studies and reports and tell you that obesity in our country is on the rise all while showing you pictures of fat people’s waists and beer guts.  In my nightmares, those shots of fat people on the street are all of me, inevitably carrying a McDonald’s take-out bag.

Not that I actually eat at McDonald’s.  I have, of course, eaten there in the past, and I probably will in the future, but it’s not a regular destination for me.  I actually can’t remember the last time I ate at McDonald’s.  But when people take a look at me, they assume that I regularly eat fast food.  And they assume that I eat a lot of it.  Because obviously I’m an idiot.

Right?  I have to be stupid.  That’s the only way I could have let myself get that way.

Wrong.  I’m not stupid, and it really bothers me that people too often associate obesity with stupidity.  They are not one and the same.  They’re not even remotely related.

I’ve been overweight since I was a kid.  I remember shopping in the boys’ department for clothes because the girls’ clothes were too small for me.  Not that I blame my parents for how I look – genetics, maybe, but it’s not the fault of my folks.  They taught me to eat a mostly healthy diet.  I don’t blame them at all.

It’s my own fault that I am this way, but I’ve come to terms with it.  I’m now a Fat Lady.  That’s who I am.

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~ by AngryFatLady on June 5, 2010.

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