Tell Me – Do You Really Like Being Fat?

Once upon a time, I fretted about going to a family wedding because I was – gasp – 142 pounds. I am five foot three. The ideal weight for me was 115 pounds using that old rule of thumb for women – 100 pounds for the first
five feet and then five pounds per inch after that. I think I was a size 11.

I still remember the dress I wore. Red and
white squares in a very 70s pattern. Just past the flower child stage and
slightly reminiscent of the art deco style. I was almost sick at the thought of
going to the wedding looking like a whale. Ha ha ha ha. If I knew then what I
know now, it would have been sheer joy. Today, my goal is to get down to 150
pounds.

I really chunked up in my thirties and decried
the paternalistic pressures to be thin. I embraced my voluptuousness. I was
healthy. What more did I want?

Well, I can tell you now what more I could have
wanted? I could have wanted the kind of sense of self that would allow me to
say to the men I met, hey, just because I am fat does not mean I am willing to
settle for second best. I could have wanted to believe my own b.s. about my
size. I could have wanted my blood pressure to remain low. I could have wanted
to be taken seriously when I went into the boss’s office to say I had a problem
with a co-worker. (It was really bad and I had to say something. She was and is
a very slender and attractive woman and that was the issue as far as the boss
was concerned. The real issue was something else entirely but as I stood there,
I saw myself as my boss saw me. Wake up call!! Woo hoo. Reality calling Joanne.

A long time ago, ironically, I studied
nutrition at university. Right up to the point of taking chemistry courses to
understand it. I should have studied psychology as well. I know the facts of
life. Garbage in – big fat bum.

The one thing I did do right is know that just
because I am plus size, I need to wear pretty things. Still I have trouble
finding pants that fit. Short legs, wide hips. Ha. Wide, did I say? Well. I was
visiting this buddy of mine who is a creative genius with the sewing machine and
asked him to measure me up for pants. Hips? Fifty-four inches. And I was
mortified at the size 11 dress I wore to that wedding so long ago. Where did I
go wrong?

I intellectualized myself into all kinds of
nonsense so I have begun to intellectualize myself out of the same nonsense. I
have tried so many diets over the years, I consider myself just about an expert
in what works and why. Over at my Chaos Queen site,
http://chaosqueen.biz, I share my best research with you, along with some
ways to look gorgeous while you work your way into fine shape.

Joanne Reid’s reviews of the best and worst diets can be read at http://chaosqueen.biz. It’s her opinion that as the Chaos Queen, everything is her business. Her sisters are too grown up now for her to boss around and for some reason, her friends have all taken assertiveness training and smile nicely when she offers advice on how they should run their lives.

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