That's so sad, I thought. It'd be so sad to feel that way, to think about oneself as being fat -- like it's an identity, like it's who you are. And the sweat ran through my hair and into a rivulet in front of my left ear and the room seemed to go dark.
It's not about the numbers. It's not about streamlining or looking "better" to a society that hates my body type. It's about being healthy. Looking at the health problems I have and trying to lessen them. It's about being energetic, having stamina, and not being tired.
I don't tell these stories to get people to feel sorry for me. I'm telling them because this is the standard of care for fat people, it seems. I'm by far not the only person who's been written off because of her weight.
America hates fat people. There, I said it. I'll say it again: America hates fat people. We make America feel uncomfortable. We require attention. You cannot ignore us as we walk down a street, or sit in our car, or dare to enter a mall.
Does it ever seem like you're hearing the same things about weight over and over? Witnessing the depressing cycle of failed public initiatives and fruitless personal efforts to trim our waistlines, who wouldn't wish for a more hopeful angle or some alternative facts on the old story?