If Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder, Who is that Looking Back at Me in the Mirror?

Obesity is a curse. Ask anyone who's ever been overweight. Not only is it uncomfortable, the social stigma is paralyzing. For those who have sensitive hearts, like me, obesity can feel like a death sentence. I remember climbing into the airplane as one of the last passengers to board only to realize there were no aisle seats left. Everyone on the plane glared at me, "Don't sit here!" while leaning heavily over the center seats. I chose a one in the front row as the occupants to my left and right exhaled. "I'm sorry," I said, and I really was sorry. Those poor people. They would have to spend the next 3 hours cuddling with the fat lady. I tucked my arms over my belly and tried not to breathe. I was shocked when a few minutes into the flight the woman next to me said, "Relax honey. It's okay." She gave me permission to let my arms down and touch her. It was all I could do not to cry.

The next time you look at an obese person, take note of your thoughts. Do you judge them? I promise you, nothing you think is half as bad as what they are experiencing. I was recently at Sam's and spied an obese cashier. My heart hurt just looking at him, but not half as bad as his back, knees and feet must have felt. Imagine how painful it would be to stand for 6 to 8 hours with 400+ pounds of fat sucking you into the earth.

So it was that I found myself at Dale's Music this past week while my son took guitar lessons. I ran into a the friend of a friend, what you would call a casual acquaintance. Fate keeps drawing us together because I have seen her numerous times over the years through an odd sort of timing. The last time I saw her she had lost 60 pounds and was rocking leopard print and spandex. This time she was hiding under the same kind of sweatshirt I wore for years. We "heavy set" women seem to want to spare the casual observer by hiding our extra weight--as if baggy clothes actually make our fat invisible.

I was checking my son's blood sugar(he's a juvenile diabetic) when she sighed and said, "I'm so sorry he has diabetes. I was just at the doctor and my A1C was through the roof!" She confirmed her type 2 status and my heart sank. A1C is the 3 month blood test they do for diabetics to measure how well they are maintaining their blood sugar levels. She then immediately jumped to the weight issue. "I was doing so well," she said. But it got away from me and I gained it all back. My doctor says the weight is killing me and I'm currently under consideration for weight loss surgery."

I wish I knew her well enough to try and hug away her pain. The fear that comes from serious health complications is unbearable. Even worse, the guilt from believing it's all your fault is pure torture.

"A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls." --Proverbs 25:28

I recently found that verse, typed it up and hung it over my kitchen sink. I thought maybe if I put a good reminder in front of my face, it would help keep me from overeating. My friend at Dale's said to me, "You are doing so great!" And I had to tell her the truth. I'm not doing great. I've gained some weight back and I'm fighting like crazy not to gain it all back. Every day is a struggle. And truthfully, weight loss surgery is like putting a band aid on a gaping wound. Just ask Al Roker!

I like to exercise. I like the freedom that comes with wearing clothes from the normal size section. But I promise you, I love to eat more. My world is a constant teeter totter of "if I eat that I must work out this much to keep the calories in balance." It's frustrating, exhausting, heart breaking and, I promise you, not at all easy.

But I don't think my struggle to stay healthy is any different than the struggles of my friends. We all have something we are fighting against, be it cancer, a sick child or a horrible boss. Our lives are a series of trade-offs. We are all cursed in one shape or another. Through circumstances beyond our control we wage war in a world that is seriously broken. We live in, love through and grieve our fallen state. We celebrate the graces and mysteries we encounter every day and cling to hope that someday, somehow our lives will improve.

Tonight I stood at the grocery store(all my important moments seem to center around food) and the woman in front of me smiled and complimented me on my column in The Ferguson Times. She told me, "And, you look great!" I was a little tired, distracted and fretful over something I've already forgotten. The thing is, I have encountered her numerous times on trails in Ferguson and she always inspires me because she is well into her grandma years and she's still running. In fact, she's usually passing me! Her kindness brought a smile to my face and my heart. The cruelest thing I ever felt as an obese person was the belief that people held me in contempt because of my size. So it is not lost on me that people look on me with hope. They assume if I lost the weight and can keep it off, I have somehow solved the unsolvable puzzle. The truth of the matter is this, good health is a combination of luck, determination, healthy habits and grit. Yes, I do feel cursed with an insatiable appetite, but I refuse to be defined or condemned by it. But more important than all of my struggle is the love I experience at the hands of my friends and family. Love salves pain. Kindness binds up all wounds. If hopelessness is the worst thing I experienced as an obese person, love was certainly the most healing sensation of all. We should never let ourselves be defined by our size. Every person on this planet is deeply flawed in some way. Some flaws are just more visible than others.

Today if you are overweight, you are not less of a person because of that one fact. Sure it's reasonable to take stock of your situation and experience the desire to improve it. (I promise you it is not impossible, only difficult.) But never, under any circumstances give up hope. I have lost the weight twice. Every day is a struggle. Right now I'm wearing a size larger than I wore last year at this time. But my waistline is not who I am inside. I am Margaret. And no matter what size I am, I am beautiful. Whoever you are reading this right now...you are beautiful too.