This image was found at this wonderful blog
I didn't really feel like it was appropriate to put this in the previous post, but my mother in law died a few months after suffering a stroke. You know how strokes are supposed to be things that happen to fat people? She was a tiny, skinny woman. She stood barely five feet tall and only weighed about 92 pounds. So by the logic of the anti-fat brigade, should she have not lived forever?
I'm five foot six and weigh closer to 292 pounds. I'm a nurse, so I know the importance of keeping an eye on certain basic readings. I'm doing fine. My doctor says I'm doing fine. He's a wise man. He says the only time weight is a concern to him is if there are sudden marked increases, which generally indicate fluid gain. Fluid gain comes on with issues such as kidney dysfunction. It's sad, but my doc is in the minority.
My cousin has lost about 30 pounds working out in the therapy pool at the facility where she works. Having worked in health care for many years, both of our bodies are pretty beat up. I'm going to ask the rehab center affiliated with our hospital if there's any chance I could work out in their pool after hours. If not, I think I'll take my cousin up on her suggestion that I could use the pool at the facility where she works. They allow the public to use it for a fee.
Here's something to note. My cousin was not TRYING to lose weight. I will not be TRYING to lose weight. The thing that sold me was not the weight loss, it's the increased flexibility and range of motion that she's been going on about. Flexibility is so important and so underrated. It's always the last quality addressed in exercise, but is as important as strength or stamina.
Certainly it's more important than "being skinny." As a nurse, I end up seeing people who become "skinny" for life and health threatening reasons all the time. Sudden weight fluctuations in either direction are always red flags. Weight measurement should be used for catching problems like endocrine dysfunction of other health concerns. It should not be used as a means of berating people.
Seeing as blaming and shaming always work so well, you'd think that other health care professionals would get a clue, right? So many times I find myself facepalming at the idiot remarks made by my own kind. They make them while I'm sitting right there, not intending to hurt me, but simply out of ignorance and brainwashing.
Maybe you can never be too rich, but you can sure be obsessed with being too thin! The poison of our thin-centric society is more than obvious. Eating disorders in young people, particularly young women, are more rampant than ever. Now that is a serious problem, but people are putting on their blinders. As long as these girls are skinny, they're healthy. Right?
It's time that we start berating the douchebags who think that insulting fat people is okay. Those who use mean humor are not funny. Let's quit stroking their limp egos.
My body happens to look a lot like the body of the larger woman. My husband, who stands about six foot two (took after his father in the height department) and weighs around 175 pounds, has no qualms about touching my body. He is not a "chubby chaser." The woman he was with before me was a model. She had a body that women in this society (myself included) envy.
We ended up together after he broke up with her. We worked together and had been friends for nearly three years. He asked me if I'd be his date to a fund raiser that he was involved with and I said "sure." That evening, we both realized how much we really enjoyed being together and decided to try another date, this time to the Museum of Natural History, which is something we both love.
We were walking through the minerals exhibition and he took my hand. I hoped that he wouldn't let go. We bought tickets for a show at the planetarium, and partway through, he asked if he could kiss me. He didn't stick his tongue down my throat or try to grope me. But his lips stayed on mine for what was a good long time, and yet not nearly long enough.
When he dropped me off at home, he didn't try to get in my pants, but we held onto each other for quite a while. He asked me why we hadn't done this before.
"Because you were with someone and we work together," I said.
"Ja, there's that," was his answer. "But I don't think this shall be a problem. You want to do this again, I'd like that. You don't want to do it again like this, we are friends still."
I wanted to do it again.
Of course I worried that he was "settling" for the fat broad because he couldn't make things work with the gorgeous model, who happened to be trying to change him into something that was more cosmopolitan, more visually appealing in her eyes. I wondered how he could "downgrade" from her to me.
When I eventually confessed my fears to him, he was genuinely surprised. He said he never saw me as a downgrade. He said that we enjoyed each other's company and he never felt like I was trying to change him into something he wasn't. That was what was important to him. Not the number that came up when I stepped on a scale.
Nils and I had our ten year wedding anniversary this year. Because of his mother's health issues, we really didn't have much of a celebration. We decided to postpone our anniversary celebration proper to the anniversary of when we first started dating, back on December 15, 1999. Maybe we'll spend Christmas in the mountains, making out to Riding the Storm Out.
Some might think the thought of a skinny, knobby-kneed, tow-headed fortyish Norwegian guy with a slightly receding hairline making out with a fat, fiftyish American brunette who looks far more like Rosie O'Donnell than Mila Kunis or whoever is the Hollywood flavor of the month these days, is "disgusting." Neither of us look like supermodel manikins. But I happen to think that two people in love is beautiful, no matter what they look like.
I get more turned on seeing my husband naked than I do seeing any Hollywood actor or G.Q. model, and his actions would indicate that he's far from disgusted with my body. He once said "If you could see yourself through my eyes, you would want to fuck yourself."
Perhaps I should do that--and let him watch, of course.
Yeah, it's disgusting, I know. At least to all the namby-pamby little wimps who want a blow-up doll who won't do annoying things like talk or demand to be treated like a human being. A fat woman having sex, and a partner who enjoys having sex with her. Ewwww....gross!
Know what? I don't care what they think. My amazing husband is on call at the hospital today, so I better get on this, just in case one of our colleagues happens to call in with Beer Fever, as is prone to happening on weekends.
Wishing you love and peace, no matter what your size.
Aurora
