Putting it all into perspective

“Your flesh is not a reflection of your soul. So when you look in the mirror, remember that your light outshines your flaws.”
― D. Antoinette Foy

 

In 2012, I started a blog called “The Way Back to Me,” and it talked a lot about my life and my drive to lose weight and regain my health. Then, in 2013, I decided to actually buy the domain name for “Call Me Tabs” and start a new blog. For awhile, it was all about life in general, and later it became more about the discrimination of a fat woman in society, especially when a fat woman is going through the process of planning a wedding.

Once 2014 hit, I did not blog for a long time. I felt like I didn’t have much to say, and I was depressed a lot of the time. I started to realize that maybe, just maybe, my lack of energy, my aches and pains and stomach issues did have something to do with my weight. Then, in April, I landed myself in the hospital with bronchitis, the same day my sister landed in the hospital with elevated liver function. After three days of steroids and breathing treatments, my doctor told me that I needed to lose weight if I wanted to see life after 50, or possibly even 40. I still tried to stay true to my “health at any size” beliefs and had no idea how much life was going to change in just a short 45 days.

A month and a half after that hospital visit, my sister passed away. Her body was having issues with food digestion, and it had caused her to lose a lot of weight. I realized, as I watched her body shut down and then pass, that health at any size is a ridiculous notion. Obviously, at less than 90 lbs, it is impossible for an adult to be healthy. Obviously, at almost 400 lbs, it is impossible for an adult to be healthy. That is just a fact. If you are 400 lbs, and you start eating healthy and exercising, your body is going to lose weight. So, saying health at any size is not true — because if you are healthy, you would not be that size — your body will begin to shrink or grow, depending on your side of the scale.

Losing my sister has been an eye opener to me, as I’ve said in previous blogs. When you are faced with your own mortality after losing a sibling so young, you really start to put your life into perspective. What is important to me? What do I cherish in my life? What do I want to do in my life?

The answers were easy: My health is important to me. I cherish my family, and I want to stay with them as long as possible. And, I want to enjoy my life with energy and zest. I want to thrive, instead of just surviving, no matter where I am planted in this world. So, for the last thirty days, I have been logging into MyFitnessPal and keeping an accurate record of my food — my calories, protein, carbs and fats — every day. I’m also keeping track of my exercise and weight loss. When I initially weighed myself, I was already two weeks into the process, and I weighed 387 lbs. Last week, I weighed 373, and I’m not sure what I weigh right now. But, my mobility has improved exponentially already. I do not get winded just walking in the grocery store. I actually have the energy to get up, clean my house and cook for my kids now. My feet don’t swell up every day now, and I just feel better.

So, from now on — this is me. I am happy with myself, and I love my body. I love my body enough to keep it healthy and take off the weight that is holding it back. I’m actually starting to love myself — and I never thought that would happen.

Week 5:

Thankful for my fat

Everyone does a post about being thankful this time of year, right? Well, I’m thankful for my husband, my children, my family and that I am gainfully employed. But, I’m also thankful for my fat.

Why? That’s simple — I’m thankful for my fat because without it, I wouldn’t be as wise as I am now.

I know, I know…that sounds a little shallow. I basically mean that I wouldn’t have had all of these life lessons (some more poignant than others) without my girth.

Lesson 1) Sometimes love isn’t enough.

I met my ex-husband when I was 17 years old. When I was 17 years old, I weighed 140 pounds. We started dating, and after I turned 18 and graduated from high school, he proposed and two months later I got pregnant. He went off to boot camp and then training for the Marine Corps. We saw each other periodically during that time, but I was basically without him my entire pregnancy. I sat around depressed, hormones raging, and I ate A LOT. I gained over 70 pounds during the pregnancy. We got married in January 1999, and our son was born in April of that year.

Over our years of marriage there were a lot of hardships, a lot of yelling and screaming, some infidelity and a lot of lies. It wasn’t all on him, I was to blame too. I fell into a deep depression and started gaining and gaining. I topped out at 250 pounds. He wasn’t attracted to me physically anymore and neither of us were happy. So, we decided to separate and, later, divorce. All of this sad story is documented in my thesis, Call Me Tabs: The Making and Breaking of a Marine Corps Wife.

Lesson 2) Sticks and stones may break your bones, so you have to be too hard to break.

There isn’t a name you could call me now that would actually faze me. I have been called every fat slur in the book. I’m thankful for every bully, every hater, every person who rejected me because of how I look. Without my plump exterior, I wouldn’t have had a lot of run-ins with such a merry band of degenerates. I wouldn’t have thought up Tab-A-Lard on my own, nor would I have known you could make it into a song. Words can hurt — but after a while, you either have to make the decision to believe them or dismiss them. I’ve been down the path of believing them, and it isn’t pretty. So, I’ve learned that you have to be too hard to break. That’s kind of where I am now. Words don’t hurt me anymore. I use them to my advantage.

Lesson 3) Finding someone who supports you is so important.

My husband loves me. He loves me enough to make me feel comfortable with who I am as a fat woman. He loves me enough to rub my curves and enjoy my body, as well as my mind and spirit. He also loves me enough to make healthy changes with me, eat healthier with me and exercise with me. He loves me through all of it. If I want to change, he supports me. He supports my writing, he listens to me go on and on about my research and my love of fat activism. It’s odd because I almost feeling like finding a man as a fat woman was more rewarding than finding one as a thinner woman.  I know where we stand. I know that he isn’t hung up on how much I weigh or what the scale says. I don’t have to be perfect, even though he sometimes thinks I am.

All of these life lessons are thanks to my fat. I feel like my fat has almost been like a security blanket, a warm place to land when nothing seemed to be going right. Now, while I may let some of my fat go, I’ve made peace with the fact that I will always be a fat woman, though a lighter fat woman. Lol, no matter which way you slice it — fat is fat. Some of us just have a little more than others. We are real people with hopes and dreams, and despite what you may think, we’ve been judged enough to know what matters and what doesn’t. So, stare at that woman in the restaurant who orders a cheeseburger. Stare at that woman who is out with her thin husband. Stare at the woman watching her kids play in the park. It doesn’t matter. We’ve heard it all before. The lessons we learn through our fat stay with us, and they make us stronger.

Catching Memories

Pictures are really just captured memories, right? We’re lucky enough to have something better than our memory to recall them. I’ve often said that no obese person is born that way. Every pound has a story. Well, here is some of mine.

I don’t have any pictures of me prior to high school. My mother has them, but I don’t. I can assure you that from the time I was nine years old, I had a weight problem. Though my mother knew my diet and activity level hadn’t changed, the doctor assured her that my weight problem was a matter of me eating way too much. And from there, the pounds began to stack up.

1994

This is me during the Christmas of my freshman year of high school. Yes, I am the second from the left — little Tabby, wearing clothing that made her look she was more suited for a nursing home than a high school. Plus clothing wasn’t as easy to find back then, so you had to get creative.

1997

Senior Pictures

A funny thing happened over the summer before my senior year of high school. I worked at a skating rink as a floor guard. I worked between 25-3o hours a week, and I was on skates the whole time. I loved every minute of it — and I shed 60 pounds. At this point, I was somewhere around 160 pounds.

1998

Summer after Graduation

The summer after my senior year, I met the “man of my dreams.” Or at least I thought I did. I had been training to enlist in the Army (which was messed up because of a knee injury), and I got down to 140 pounds. This was the smallest I have been during my adult life. And, it was literally because I ate almost nothing and walked or ran every day with my recruiter.

After 1998, there is what I like to call a dark period. I was married to a man from 1999-2005. During that time, I became depressed, and the weight began to come on because of my issue with emotional eating. I was disgusted with myself, and I felt like I wasn’t good enough to be in a picture. There were spurts of time that I felt fine, and other times, I felt like I could never leave my house. As I said, it was a dark time. I lived on a Marine Corps base, surrounded by athletic or skinny men and women, and I was packing on more pounds every day. It was a terrible cycle that I never thought I would break. I also felt embarrassed for my husband at the time because he had to be seen with me. After we divorced, I actually told myself for a while that he had every right to do the things he did because he didn’t sign on to be married to a fat cow — he married a smaller woman, so it was okay.

After the separation, I moved with my children back to Ohio. It didn’t take me long to start smiling again.

2006

As you can see from this picture with my friend, Blake, I still didn’t feel comfortable in front of the camera. Sure, I’d show my face, but anything to make me look a little smaller. I couldn’t look fat on camera, after all. That would be captured for a lifetime!

2008

In 2007 and 2008, I met some friends in college who were larger women. They didn’t make apologies for it…didn’t care what other people thought. One of them went with me to a local bohemian community festival an hour from our home. I felt comfortable in a tank top for the first time. I even danced in the rain (hence the wet hair). That year, I got a grant from the college and went on a research trip for my senior honors thesis. It was the first time that grant had been awarded to someone in the English Department at my school.

2009

In 2009, I started to make a name for myself in the writing community at my university. After winning five awards at the year-end assembly, I felt comfortable enough to let a friend take a half body picture. It was the first one in years.

2010

This was snapped at a Chuck E. Cheese in 2010. My mother wasn’t exactly sure where to look (lol), but that’s okay. In 2010, I still had one more year of school, and I was dividing my time between work, school and raising two kids on my own. After a couple of years with my parents, my children and I had finally moved out — life was moving right along.

2011

I was preparing to graduate in 2011. First, I had my award ceremony. I received seven awards that night, including a first place award for my poetry and the award for top senior for the campus. The picture at the podium is me giving a reading of my poem, and the other picture is my father, my daughter, me and my son at the reception after.

2011

Graduation!

This is a photo of our graduation party. My sister, Becky, and I graduated the same day. This picture, from left to right, is me and my sisters Jennifer, Becky and Kimmy. As you can see, my sisters are not the same size as me. I am the only one in the family that is morbidly obese. I remember that it took me a LONG time to be okay with this picture. I was happy that I graduated. I was proud. But, I was wearing a gown that looked like a circus tent and made me look even bigger than I was. Looking back at it now, I see a nice picture with my sisters. 🙂

So, who do I look like? Yes, this is my sister, Becky, and I with our parents. Once again, it took me a long time to appreciate this picture. But, looking back, I see this picture of two people who were proud of both their daughters, despite either of their sizes. It makes me stand up a litter straighter now to know that my mother and father have never judged me negatively because of my weight.
2012

Last year was a busy one for me.

This was me in early 2012, when I was a reporter for The Marion Star here in Marion, Ohio. The haircut was new. Everyone had told me for years that my round face could never pull off shorter hair. I think they were wrong — I got more compliments on this haircut than I ever had before.

I had been working on being more healthy because I was sick of being tired all the time. So, I decided to walk a 5K on my 32nd birthday in June 2012.

In July 2012, I went to visit friends in Jacksonville, North Carolina, and had a job interview for The Daily News. This is a picture of me from the trip. Still not a lot of full body pics for me.

I got the job and moved to NC in August 2012. Here is a pic of me the second day at The Daily News. And below is a picture of how much I changed from my first day at the Marion Star to my first day at The Daily News (A year apart; the top pic is the older of the two):

I felt better, and I had more confidence than ever before.

Present Day

This is me today. I have a double chin. I have a big face. And, I have a lot of weight that my skeleton is carrying around. Here is what I’ve learned in almost 20 years of photos — I am worth more than the image that appears in any of these pictures. I am a person. I am a fat person, but I’m still a person. I am a writer. I am a daughter. I am a mother. I am a sister. I am fat. This is who I am. There is definitely no need to make apologies for that.

An open letter to all the people in my life — no matter what your size

To all those who love me, hate me or know that I exist in any way,

I am not…

Chubby. Plump. Juicy. Thick. Large. Zaftig. Plus-Size. Big Beautiful Woman. Few Extra Pounds. Ample. Voluptuous. Big-Boned. Chunky. Cuddly. Curvy. Fluffy. Full-bodied. Buxom. Full-figured. Heavy. Horizontally-Challenged. Lard Ass. Husky. Portly. Rotund. Rubenesque. Stocky. Overweight. Obese. Big. I’m not any of the negative slurs you can think up.

The word you are searching so hard to say is “fat.”  I am F-A-T. For better or worse, no matter how healthy or unhealthy I am, I will always be fat.

It is not a bad word. It does not hurt my feelings. Do you know what does hurt my feelings? When you say that I’m not fat. It makes me wonder if you are blind or just a really bad liar. Want to know something else annoys me? When you complain about how “fat” you feel at a certain day or time. Guess what? Fat is a state of being. I am fat. It is not an emotion or a feeling. It just is.

The stereotypes for fat women astound me. I’m mean and bitchy, but I’m also emotionally starved and needy. I’m angry and desperate. I hate my body. I can’t look in the mirror. Strangely enough, none of that is really true. I struggle as much as any woman with my looks — no matter how fat or thin a woman is, she has a love/hate relationship with her body.

Another thing that all women have? Emotions. So, yes — I can be bitchy. I can be mean. I can be emotionally starved or exhausted. I can be needy. I can be angry. I’ve never been desperate, but more on that later. I am a person — not an epidemic, not a problem. People feel things. Believe me, I have an ENTIRE range of emotions, and none of them have to do with being fat — unless someone throws up an ignorant stereotype about me. Then…I get angry.

The next paragraph I will direct to the men I’ve spent time with in my life, and any out there in the blogosphere that may not understand this about the fatties in their lives. Believe it or not, I am not, nor have I ever been sex starved. Do not approach a fat woman in a bar because you believe that she will be desperate enough to go to bed with you. First of all, why do you hold yourself in such low regard? Secondly, I’d bet that the woman has more options to whet her sexual appetite than you will ever know.

I have never spent a night without the company of a male, if I wanted that company. Then, in September 2012, I met a man who fell in love with me because of my mind, body and soul. He loves my body. And no, he doesn’t have a fetish. He isn’t a “chubby chaser.” I hate when men see me as either not good enough to sleep with because I’m fat, or they see me as good enough to sleep with because I’m fat. Granted, I’m off the market now. But, guess what, that fat woman at the bar doesn’t want you to want her because you want to grab her rolls, you get off on her belly size or because you want to feed her and make her bigger. Once again — fat women are people. We are not a problem, a fetish or an epidemic.

Finally, let’s talk about those who want to talk to me about my health, or about how I need to go on a diet because I’m a large woman who is going to die soon if I don’t lose some weight. I will say this — there is nothing wrong with living healthy, and I do eat too much fast food and don’t exercise enough. I do probably drink way too much sweet tea.

That being said, with the exception of my knee pain (from an injury when I was 18 and a “normal weight”), I am one of the healthiest person in my family…and I have three sisters who vary in body types and ages. I’m not going to pretend that I’m completely healthy. Like I said, I should walk more. I want to increase my mobility. I want to be able to find clothing a little easier. So, if you want to go on a walk with me, let’s go. If you want to join a yoga class with me, I’m in.

However, if you know me, and you bring up something like weight loss surgery or some other drastic process to lose weight, we may have a problem. Why in the world would I put my body through such a drastic process when it is only about 50% effective? No thank you. You could over me a free gastric bypass, and I would turn it down every time.

I am a fat woman. I am always going to be a fat woman. If I lose 200 pounds, I will still be a fat woman. That is my goal. I would like to lose 200 pounds, and I’m starting to work on it. But guess what, I’m also working on something else. I’m working on a better me. A better person who realizes that being fat is not the same as being healthy, that being fat is not a negative thing and that being fat is not the end of my life.

Now, I just have to make everyone else realize that.

With Love,

Tabitha

The other “F” word

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of working with a group of 20 or so middle and high school aged girls at a local community school. I gave a presentation about body image.  The presentation went well. We talked about how we see ourselves and each other, and how we are our own harshest critics. We talked about how the media, especially popular magazines geared toward teen girls and young women, are geared only toward fashion, weight, beauty or sex. We talked about how they have worth — they are more than just a body, more than just a number on a scale.

Author’s note: For any weight loss or healthy living blogs, please note that I did, during my presentation, admit that while I do love myself and my body, I am adopting a healthier lifestyle to improve my health and extend my life. I also explained that making positive changes in your life, whether it be your body, your intelligence, your personality or your future won’t happen if you don’t love yourself enough to make them — which is why accepting and loving yourself, despite your size, is the first step.

It was a great group of girls. And, despite the fact that I enjoyed the whole hour I spent with them, it was the first few minutes that were really telling. I asked them all to take a slip of paper and write on that paper (anonymously) the first word that came to their head when they saw me in the library. I instructed them to write whatever came to their minds, whether it be negative or positive, and reassured them that they would not hurt my feelings. Then, a teacher collected the papers and I read them aloud. Some of them said I was nice, sweet and happy. Others complimented my clothing or hair. A few of them said things like “unusual” (which I take as a compliment). But, it was the last five that really resonated with me.

They just said one word — “Big”.

I was honestly surprised. I thought at least one of those girls would say the word “fat”. I mean, a 400-pound woman was standing at the front of the room to do a presentation. One of them had to think “fat”, right? And personally, I think that quite a few of them thought the word and wrote something else, because you could tell that they were struggling to figure out what to write. I understand that. I’m a stranger coming into their school to give a presentation. They don’t want to be rude.

But, not one of them said “Fat”. Why is that? Why would you say that someone was big, but not fat? Why is fat such a dirty word?

Building on my own pondering, I waited until the end of the seminar, and then asked if the girls would rather be called mean, ugly or slutty instead of being called fat. Almost all of them raised their hands. There were girls during the Q&A session that confessed that they were afraid of getting fat, and girls that came up to me afterward to tell me why they diet. Like I said, it was a good hour, and fairly eye-opening for me.

So, tell me, why are women so afraid of fat? Why is fat essentially the other “f” word in society?

As another side note: Another dear soul from Tumblr chimed in to spread some more fat hatred:

“Chubby chasers are just as disgusting as the whales they hunt. Also that guy looks like one of those serial child molesters. (You know the average looking middle aged guy with the creepy smile?That type.) Just sayin.

Did you leave some cake for the rest of the guests or did you shovel it down yourself? Honestly curious here.

Also I’m curious about how they make wedding dresses that big. It looks cheap regardless.”

Please tell me — where do they get these people?

Love Song for Fat

A few years ago, while taking a poetry class, someone introduced me to podslam.org. This website had several poetry slams about sexuality, relationships, family, etc. One of the ones that hit me the hardest was a piece called “Incisors” by JM Huscher.

After watching this video over and over again, I started to realize that there wasn’t one body part I could write a love poem for — I hated all of them, because they were covered in fat. So, instead of writing a love poem for my parts, as the poetry slam instructed, I wrote a love song for fat. Here it is:

Love song for fat

273…320…385

Fat is my worst enemy and
my constant companion.

I’ve had friends who have been there when I was thin
left when I wasn’t
but she will never leave me.

Soft ripples of dimpled flesh
stretch marked over my soul

I have blamed her for all the wrongs in my life:

Fat is the reason I have no husband.
Fat is the reason I have a nowhere job.
Fat is the reason I have no money.

When really my husband left because he had his own issues to work out.
When really my job is great, but I am uncomfortable in front of people.
When really I have money, but instead of investing in stocks and bonds, I invest in burgers and fries.

Someone once said to write a love song for the body part I hate the most.
I couldn’t choose just one — I hated them all.
I chose, instead, to write a love song to fat;
the girl who had taken over every part.

She rolls down my body,
wrapping me in warm comfort
while poking out from under straining cotton shirts,

but she’s there for me.

She doesn’t say, “Oh, you have a pretty face, but…”

I’ve heard that more times than I can count.

You have a great smile.
You have a great personality.
You have such pretty eyes.
You have gorgeous hair.

People try to act as though I don’t exist from the neck down.
But I do. I have a heart, a body, and a soul stuck within the pockets of skin that have a stranglehold on my senses, and theirs.

She doesn’t judge me.

She does, however, keep me running from cameras, knowing that pictures just pack on the pounds.
She does, however, keep me second guessing lovers. I mean, what would a man see in me?
She does, however, keep me at a distance from the world, a safety net like a child on a leash:

“Don’t go too far…you’ll get hurt.”

She will never leave me.

Fat is part of my life, one way or another.
I don’t always like what she does, but I have learned to love her.
I will never have a perfect body. I’ve learned not to waste my time on that.

Instead, I am working on the perfect mind.
Instead, I am working on the perfect heart.
Instead, I am working on the perfect soul.

I know that if I do that, eventually, she will begin fade and I will be able to see something besides her.

I will be able to see me.

 

— Written by Tabitha Clark, 2009

Clothing Stores: Discriminatory or no?

So, I recently had a response to my “Plus Size Clothing Panic” blog post that stated that basically, clothing stores were not discriminatory, they just stocked what would sell in the stores (paraphrased). “It’s not discriminatory. It’s just economy.”

I’ll have to respectfully disagree with this statement. If it were about the economy, then wouldn’t more regular clothing stores sell more size 14 and above clothing, considering that the average woman is a size 14? Honestly, I don’t know…I’m not an economist. But, it seems to be that if it is about economy, and America is getting fatter (as all the experts keep touting), then sizes would be going up, instead of slimming down.

It just seems logical that plus size stores wouldn’t shut out women in the top echelon of their buying community. I mean, they don’t have many size 14/16 women who walk into their stores either, but they continue to keep those clothes in stock. Like I said, it just seems like an internal form of fat shaming, imo.

The blogger who responded also said, “Honestly I think this has a lot to do with online shopping. Lots of people are way more comfortable going online and buying and not having to face people. Ergo stuff no longer gets stocked in stores.”

This person is admittedly a size 14 now, and said she has been much larger in the past. I think that any larger woman would know that it is HELL to try to buy clothing online. I don’t even see how smaller women do it. Everything has a different fit, everything is cut a different way. I’ve taken my measurements, ordered things, and then had to send everything back because of the cuts being wrong.

Anyway, I don’t think this blogger is wrong. No one’s opinion is wrong, and everyone has a right to them. But, I think that saying it is just the economy is another way that larger people are getting brushed aside. Like I said, if it was about selling power, wouldn’t they do away with the largest AND smallest sizes? And, wouldn’t a regular selling plus size like the 26/28 be available in the same lines as all the other sizes? Who knows, maybe I’m just being sensitive.

Thoughts?

Plus size clothing panic

I used to LOVE going to Fashion Bug here in Marion, Ohio. Why? Because they always had something in my size. Fashion Bug used to have two distinct sections — the side for skinny girls and the side for fat girls. And, until a few years ago, the stuff on the fat girl side was pretty matronly, for the most part.

Side note: Why do designers of fat girl clothing think that we all want to wear floral prints or cartoon animals on our shirts? Is there really a market for this that I don’t know about? Am I really, as a 33 year old woman, supposed to dress 20-30 years older just because I have more skin and flab than the lithe 33 year old woman standing next to me? Anyway…that’s a little off topic.

So, like I was saying — A few years ago, Fashion Bug made a change. They started carrying everything in their store in all sizes. I was ecstatic. It was like I’d just won the lottery on my birthday. I could walk into Fashion Bug, see a skinny girl sized outfit and know that they had that same outfit somewhere in that store in a double digit size.

I moved away from Marion for a few months in 2012 to take a job in NC. When I moved back in February 2013, my beloved Fashion Bug was gone. Just gone. Apparently the brand had went bankrupt, shut down, headquarters blew up…I’m not sure. But, I was upset, and I’m still grieving.

You may think that is a little extreme to grieve over the loss of a store — but there is a further implication that you may not understand. They replaced it with a store called Rainbow. While Rainbow is a plus sized store, it doesn’t have anything over a size 24. Sorry, I’m bigger than a 24. What is a woman like me to do?

Unfortunately, I’ve seen this as an alarming trend in plus size clothing stores. I mean, it is one thing to go into American Eagle and not find my size. I don’t expect to — that’s a whole other discussion that I’ll get to another time. But, when I walk into a clothing store for plus size women, I expect that they will have up to at least 26/28, if not 30/32. And, until a few years ago, they mostly did.

Then, for some unknown reason, Lane Bryant, one of the top plus size stores in the country, almost completely stopped carrying size 30/32. They also started making their “designer collections” only go up to size 22/24. Once again, women larger than that size were left in flower prints. So now, as an obese woman — I’m outcast even in my own sect of society. How is that right? I mean, I understand that sizes have to stop somewhere, but really? Are we even getting the weight loss shaming from our own stores now?

Ever since the loss of Fashion Bug, I have nowhere to buy clothing in my own hometown. Sure, I could go to Wal-Mart, but their clothing is, once again, matronly, and there is a VERY limited selection. Plus, it doesn’t fit correctly. And, while other major department stores carry plus sizes, their 3x (biggest size) is usually only an 18/20 or a 22/24.

So now, instead of shopping in town, and keeping my money in town, I’m stuck driving all the way to Columbus to buy clothing. Not only does it waste my gas, on top of the high price of these clothes (Fashion Bug was always a bargain), but it also takes my tax money away from my community. I like to shop locally when I can. But, in my present situation, I can’t.

I’m sure that some people will read this and think, “Well, just lose weight.” You have a right to think that. But, it’s not about losing weight, at least, not really. It is about trying to be comfortable in my own skin and being able to have the same abilities as everyone else. And, it’s about the plus size industry sticking up for their consumers, instead of shutting them out.

Has anyone else had a problem with this?