Jan over at Secular Blasphemy has had two articles in recent days about "weighty matters." First, in what is no news to those of us who've tried just about all of 'em, a study was recently released that says diets don't work, and what's worse, many dieters actually end up putting on more weight. Today he found a study that says that men are as concerned about their weight as women are these days. I'll refrain from the witty bon mot of a response that Jan's close to the article cries out for in favor of exploiting his research as a jumping off point for a tangent of my own.

Why fat? Anyone who could answer that with any real authority could probably translate said answer into many millions of dollars, and believe me, there are a lot of scientists far more qualified than this computer jockey who have yet to discover the real "Ah hah!" at the root of the whole thing.

What I have to offer is this: my personal experience in the fat wars. It's more than one entry here and but one of the three F's I want to explore, but I'll give it my best shot. It's important to state up front that I offer no justifications or excuses. I can tell you some of the contributing factors to my weight, and I will be quite frank in doing so. But I can only attest to their truth in MY life, not anyone else's. I do not consider this fodder for judging others; like the rest of these ramblings, they are merely my thoughts and my ideas.

Today, I'll start with adolescence.

If I look at photographs of myself from my childhood, I do not appear terribly large. I think I had a slightly above average birthweight (above 8lbs) if that means anything. Still, I was convinced that I was obese from the time I was fairly young. I was taller than most of my classmates and I wore larger sizes. Even in shoes! I vividly remember matching my mother's shoe size by the time I was ten or so.

When I was in high school, I typically wore about a size 16. The time I looked best was shortly after college when I was a 14. I now wear an 18 (and I have been as large as 20). Not really all that much variation when I look at it, but of course gravity is redistributing some of that additional weight and so the 18 (and by all means the 20) is far more of a problem.

At size 16, I was convinced that I was enormous. I had one friend in high school who was a size 2! These statistics were important to me. I felt like a freak. I tried dieting. I was certainly active at that time. I mean, I was no athlete, but I walked a lot, rode my bicycle, danced, played a bit of tennis, soccer for a couple of years, and so on. None of this made a difference in my size. I just always thought of myself as a fat girl.

When I got to the size 14 I wasn't really doing anything special; I was just too poor to eat out a lot and I walked to work. I wasn't even as engaged in athletics as I had been earlier. I didn't stay size 14 for long though. By my mid twenties, I was back to a 16 and stayed there until about age 30 when I hit the 18 mark.

The point I want to make about all of those ups and downs is this: at some point before I'd hit size 18, I had determined that there was little I could do to change the fact that I was, at least in my mind, FAT, and so, at least for awhile, I just stopped trying. That combined with other life changes (driving more than walking, sedentary job, marriage, a couple of surgeries, etc.) certainly got me to the size I am now. And let me tell you, when I look at the photos of size 16 me – the me I just knew was so fat that I could never be attractive – I cringe at how wrong I was.

You see, it isn't about dress size. It's about body size and appropriate weight. I have a basic body build more typical of a man than a woman. Again, that's not a justification for where I am now; I am definitely overweight, and at my age it's more of a concern than it ever was due to the health risks. It's just a fact. If I'd recognized it when I was that size, I would never have gone into "who cares" mode.

In this day and age, there is a lot more data available to young women to define appropriate weight. Percentage of the fat component of body mass is available, for example. Yet among the younger women I meet, there is still an overwhelmingly common trend for them to think of themselves as overweight. I can't tell you how many beautiful young women with perfectly healthy, pleasing shapes tell me they MUST lose five or ten pounds (on my frame, that's 20 - 25lbs, but no matter). One rather athletic young woman I know is adamant about the fact that she has thighs that are far too huge to wear a bathing suit or shorts (she laments how pants fit, for that matter). She's a RUNNER for heaven's sake! Those are MUSCLES! Someone please explain to her that muscle tone is a positive thing?

I'm afraid I've gotten off on a rant here, but this is important. I don't want these beautiful young women to make my mistake. I don't want them to look like I do now when they hit forty. And I most certainly don't want them starving themselves to death now.

Body image is such a sensitive topic. I can't simply blame the media and be done with it when these young women armed with far more information than I ever had – women who must KNOW that "supermodel" is an ideal only achieved by either being a true freak of nature or by being a heroin addict – are still more convinced by the imperfections visible only to their own eyes than by any objective criteria. Certainly popular culture is a contributing factor, but that's not all there is to it.

Over time, I'll look at other reasons why I am overweight now, and I'll tell you ahead of time that 99% of them are habits or patterns for which I am completely responsible. Still, I've got to say, I honestly believe that a healthy body image earlier in life might well have made a difference. Is there a way to teach young women, and apparently now young men, to really see their bodies before they decide "why bother?"

9:22:50 PM