fat acceptance Articles

Today there are parallel stories as it relates to our increasingly dysfunctional relationship with food. As our food looks less and less like plants and animals (as it should) our waistlines continue to expand, and Britain’s fattest lady died recently at the tender age of 40.

Sharon Mevsimler was a 45 stone mother. 45 stones is approximately 600 pounds. At 5 feet tall, she was almost five times my weight (I am 5’6″). Are you capable of carrying your own weight? Twice your weight? Three times? What’s the limit before your body gives out? For Mevsimler it was 45 stones.

Also today a woman was bumped from her Southwest flight. She was not obese, she was petite, but the obese FOURTEEN YEAR OLD CHILD next to her required two seats.

When do we say, “The fat acceptance movement has it wrong.”? When do we say that our children are worth fighting for? When do we treat this as a clinical problem instead of an issue of looking cute?

When a 14 year old child cannot fit in an airplane seat it is not time to make the seats larger. It’s time to say, “You’re fat and you need help”. When a 40 year old mother dies, and her friends and family sneak fried food into the hospital room so that she can kill herself in a bucket of chicken, it’s time for the world to take a stand.

I’m not worried about a nation of anorexics. A third of our children are fat. You can call it overweight, you can call it obesity, you can call it adipose tissue. Three in every ten kids is fat and this prevents them from playing, and maturing at the appropriate time. Our children will live shorter lives than you and I, and I promise you it’s the food and the hovering.

I beg you, please turn off the computer and kick your kids out of the house. Hand them a ball or a bucket of chalk and don’t let them inside.

And then, when they come back in the house, let them drink water and eat only foods that they can pronounce.

Moms, your kids are going to die. It’s not baby fat. It’s Munchausen By Twinkies.

Recently I got into a little to do on twitter with Jason Falls. If you don’t know Jason, you should. Jason is often on twitter, and almost always with a kind word.

Sadly there is an assertion online, and in person that obese people are somehow not to blame for their obesity. I understand that it’s painful for someone to admit that they’ve done harm to their own body, but if we’re busy blaming pituitary glands and bum thyroids, we’re doomed to a life of morbid obesity and an early grave.

I have a thyroid disorder. For ten years I’ve had an out of control thyroid due to Hashimotos Thyroiditis. The most weight I’ve gained? Six pounds. I am told that is typical.

Fighting fat is a battle worth having. Diets suck, when you’re dieting all you do is think of food. Exercise is hard, moderation is difficult, but since when is life supposed to be easy? Are no struggles worth having?

I have friends with weight problems and it would be cruel for me to pretend like it’s not a problem. I am not a skinny woman. I don’t strive to be a size 4. I’m a curvy adult woman with a little flab and a dose of goo, but I feed my body with food. I love myself enough to eat a piece of fruit, organic meats and dairy items, and a lot of vegetables. I love sweets, I love dessert, but you can’t have everything. If I want ice cream there’s a shop at the corner, I walk there, I walk back. If I’m too tired to get the junk food I don’t eat it.

Having it all is a myth that kills us.

Jason thought that I was attacking fat people. Please don’t think for a moment that I don’t like you or think less of you if you’re fat. I know you’re less healthy than you could be, and underneath any sort of bravado there’s a sadness that you can’t move as well as you should. I don’t mock people or think that they’re feelings aren’t relevant.

Your feelings matter.

If you want to feel good, move your body. If you want to feel great, put food in your body. Skip anything that comes from a box. Buy food that spoils, buy it each and every day and enjoy the flavors. Taste a peach in the summertime and kale in the autumn, enjoy cake but know the ingredients and control the portion size. Dessert is not here to make you full.

The short cut to feeling good is to change your behavior.

I support your lifestyle changes. If you’re trying to get healthier I’ll walk with you, I’ll shop with you and cook with you. I will support you every step of the way. I will not pretend that buying a weight loss pill, food, package or plan will help you.

Please don’t talk to me about skinny or thin. Let’s talk health, let’s talk about enjoying our food and leaving a smaller footprint. You don’t need a 100 calorie snack pack, you need an apple. You don’t need a low carb diet, you need less processed food. Unless you’re diabetic you don’t need to eliminate sugar, you just need to watch it.

And you need to move. You need to make your children move, a lot. Your kids aren’t getting dehydrated, they don’t need a sports drink or a juice, they need water and a yard.

Your friends tell you when you have salad in your teeth. They also tell you when you’re killing yourself.

I don’t hate fat people, but the fat acceptance movement infuriates me.

It’s discriminatory when I pay for an airplane seat and you overflow onto mine.
Your size discriminates against me.

Heh, discrimination, what a load of shit.

I’m tired of hearing people equating obesity with race, hence the discrimination.

I can’t carry my 7 year old on my back all day long and still have a good quality day. He’s 50 pounds or so. Many of you “fat acceptance” bloggers have lots more than 50 pounds on you. Stop pretending it’s okay. You are dying and some of you are killing your kids. That has me irate.

It’s got to suck to be morbidly obese. I can’t imagine laboring to get out of bed, oh, wait I can, you see I was HUGE when I was pregnant. It’s not a way to live your life.

Here’s the deal, you stop pretending that 9 year olds with man boobs are in a “phase” and I’ll do everything I can to support you in your new, life affirming lifestyle.

Because fat acceptance is kinda like cancer acceptance. You’re killing yourself and you sound like an asshole when you talk about it.