Painting by Fernando Botero |
I grew up in the ever-enlarging shadow of an obese sibling. Starting at about age 12, my older sister's weight was the topic of every household conversation. Those conversations became knock-down, drag-out fights by the time she hit her teen years. Plainly stated, her fatness ruined our family and totally wrecked my childhood.
So excuse me if I can't "embrace" fatness and call it "body-positivity." I saw my sister live a horrible, sad existence, unable to walk the last five years, locked inside her fat until the day she died at age 83 six months ago.
As a great cook with a big appetite, I have had my own weight struggles. But the memory of how miserable my sister was keeps me within a normal weight range. And yes, I do mean normal -- humans are not meant to be fat. How else to explain how much happier people become when they finally lose their excess weight and start feeling good about themselves and life in general?
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