Comfort in Your Own Body

There's a lot of hoopla about the obesity problem in this country. It leads to dreadful things, diabetes and heart disease at the top of the list.

There's a lot of concern about anorexia and bulimia. Opposite end of the spectrum but equally scary. When I was in college, a girl in my dorm got so sick with anorexia that the fatty pads on her feet dissolved. Her parents took her home. Too late. She died.

Thankfully, I've never been overweight and I've never been anorexic. Like every other part of my life, I'm muddling through the middle.

As a teenager, being overweight must be awful. Other teens can be so cruel. Adults can be judgmental -- I'm ashamed to say, I've done it. The husband's favorite expression to yell at someone on the television is, "Stop eating!"

My mother once told me that she's self-conscious around my girlfriends. "You're all skinny girls." We are. But, it doesn't mean we don't have body image issues.

Some of my friends are too thin. I've been accused of that myself. There is no middle ground. Once you get to middle age, your body can be thin but your face is going to show it. Or, your face looks great but your body is a little plump.

Why don't men struggle with this?

Most men I know will whip off their shirts in a moment's notice and then strut around like they've just been named Body Builder of the Year. Meanwhile, the skinny women are tying scarves around their hips to cover their thighs.

Sometimes I watch the oldies. They have no body issues. She's lost significant weight since they've lived with us. (It's probably because I rarely cook.) I've been to numerous doctor's appointments, emergency rooms, or I've just wandered down the hall when they forget to close the door. I've seen a lot of nakedness.

They are totally fine with it. Occasionally, I get a little uncomfortable.