ME:

Stout, sturdy, big, lovely, darling, butterball (my daddy's favorite), short, tall, fatty-fatty-two-by-four, large boned, fast walker, sister, wife, mom, friend, girlfriend, best friend, enemy, lover, fat, overweight, obese, great, lousy, thin, good girl, responsible, honest, reliable, crazy, fun, funny, smart, flabby, cow, bitch, whore, skinny, cook, leader, baker, homemaker, housewife, employee, boss, photographer, handy, creative, angry, sexy, delightful, hot, volunteer, co-worker, teacher's pet, fast, slow, Bertha, chubby, dependable, proficient and the list goes on and on . . . .

 
Especially the ones that describe my physical self.  The words have always confused me.  When I was a very young girl, I didn't understand why I was called fat -- because I wasn't. 

Then as I grew into a young women, the fashion was that of Twiggy and lets face it we are ALL fat compared to her.  Anyway, I think as I grew older I kept trying to make what other people saw and what I saw congruent.  I started actively overeating when I was about 17.  Even when that wasn't enough, I started to slouch my shoulders so as to look as small as possible.  When that wasn't enough, I started to kind of hunch over (not stand straight).  These actions were mostly done unconsciously. And all the time gaining weight.  Well, I have finally gotten to a place that "I" think I'm fat.  I finally match the words of the world and I do NOT like it!

Now of course there are other factors in my weight gain, but I've been pondering the words, so that's what I'm addressing right now.  The words are what started it all I think.  Other people told me who I was and even though I didn't really believe it, it must have been true because I kept hearing it all my life.  My dad's nickname for me "butterball".  Boys at school teasing me "fatty-fatty . . . .  Girlfriends implied it.  Clothing manufacturers perpetuated it.  Fashion magazines confirmed it:  I'M FAT.  Even at my normal weight; I'm fat.

And if I ever loose weight, people make a big deal about it.  Once I lost weight and everyone said I was too skinny.  In actuality I was probably at my ideal weight.  Go figure.

So what's a girl gonna do?

I've decided to seek medical advice to make sure everything in my body is working like it is supposed to.  I've gotta do that annual checkup anyway.  I'm praying/meditating daily.  I now have new language about praying and I love, love, love the idea of praying (see book).  And as of yesterday, I made the decision to walk my dog every morning (and it is now possible because we purchased a harness guaranteed to stop dogs from dragging you -- and it WORKED!!  Woot!!).  

So, I'm attending to the physical and spiritual parts of my being. 

It feels good.