That Piece of Cake

By S.D. Craig

A recent article I read got me going again on the subject of those of us who weigh more than the comfortable norm and what we have endured through our lives. It suggested that if you wrote down the top eighteen things people have said to you regarding your weight that hurt, you could laugh about them with your supportive friends. Lines that I remember causing pain are not something I’d want to dredge up again for the sake of a forced laugh, but it might work.

“Are you sure you want that piece of cake?” haunts me.  What it means is that someone (other than you) is watching your weight and is trying not-so-gently to let you know they don’t think you are. How very clever. How very painful.

For one thing I should be blessedly happy. I didn’t grow up with weight problems as a child. In my twenties the troubles began, after leaving once-a-day physical education classes, daily horseback riding and walking up those hills to and from the bus stop. They don’t warn you when you leave high school you still need to stay active.  Not back in the seventies they didn’t. What happens?  All of a sudden, you’re a grown up. You get married. Life intrudes.

At forty-seven, they’ve had plenty of years to make the comments that dig, and then, dig deeper. What is so ironic is the disguise or denial of it all. “It’s said or done for my own good” is the reason they cite.  Can I say now it does nothing for me? Thanks.

What they’re hoping to gain (pardon the pun), I don’t know. Justice and a smug smile if I were to sit up, take notice, and finally starve myself to a mere but acceptable hundred thirty-five pounds? Better health they’re hoping for me? Funny thing is, I’m healthier than most of them. I’m rarely sick, my cholesterol is terrific, I walk 4-5 days a week and have now decided to swim daily. So, I’m big. I’m not thin. I don’t fit in with the gorgeous females in my family. I’m not Meg Ryan, boyishly trim and darling. Because of these searing comments, will I ever stop trying to be someone like her? Is that truly what they really want? That, I wonder.

I want to have total acceptance of myself. I want to be secure in this body I’m living in. My man loves me, my friends love me, and I have a wonderful life. I’m a writer and I do what I love every day. Somehow, those nagging comments through the past twenty-five years have so haunted me. I wish they’d go away. Really far away. One article like that brings it all back. I’m grateful for my healthy body and lifestyle, for it could be far worse. Much, more so. I try to focus on that and how lucky I am. I have both legs to let me walk. I have eyes that let me see. I can hear lovely music and smell flowers every day. The kicker is, I can taste. Oh dear.

Let me pass by yet another page of words that brought back the past to smack me cold again. The reflections of me in car windows as I walk by, the discomfort of my figure in a bathing suit, the tugging down of my shorts.

Give me strength to love me, Lord, as I am. And grit my teeth once more.

About the writer:
SD Craig has been a busy writer, recently opening two sites, and  Please stop in soon and get on the newsletter/subscribe e-mail list.  Life’s experiences give her plenty to write about from her own wacky perspective and along with articles on body image (her biggest passion), she takes on marriage and male/female relationships, family and children, career issues, computers and the Internet, horses, baseball, raising kids and parents, movie reviews and writing tips.  A freelance writer with five columns, you can e-mail her at:

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