Dear Mr. Maher:
I watched your show last night — as I do weekly. Shortly after your guest, Tim Gunn, was introduced you began your second rant in the past month about obese people and the epidemic of obesity. He shut you down. And I was glad. Really, really glad.
I am 58 years old. I am considered, by today’s standards, obese. I have fluctuated, since the age of 16, between the sizes of 16 and 20. I was “big” as a child — my early years were very painful ones not only because of the incessant teasing of my skinnier classmates but because then, like now, fat girls, didn’t exactly have their choice of pretty clothes at the stores. More often than I care to think about, my mom and great aunt would ruminate about “what a pretty face” I had — if only — and often discussed how my chances of “getting a husband” were slim. Worst of all worlds — I inherited my grandmother’s double chin!
Yet, my childhood was spent outdoors — doing chores (grocery shopping, laundromat and a crapton of yard work), playing with those kids in the neighborhood who weren’t mean (tag, steal the bacon) and endless walking. Back then everyone walked everywhere. My teenage/high school years were filled with those same chores, gymnastics (floor and beam), intramural/junior varsity basketball, volleyball and bike riding — for MILES a day. The meals served at home were freshly-cooked and (for the most part) healthy.
But, like many of my female peers, I was obsessed with being thin, with fitting in, with erasing those painful scars.
So, in the 70’s there was the endless parade of diet pills — over the counter and prescription — which may have turned me into a raging schizophrenic but never got me below a size 16. It took two years to get off THAT rollercoaster. Since then it’s been South Beach, Atkins, Weight Waters, Jenny Craig — all resulting in weight loss, but temporary loss — none resulting in cracking that size 18 ceiling.
I didn’t have a car, so I biked — EVERYWHERE -- 2 miles or 20. I went through extended periods of salads-only eating (literally — breakfast, lunch and dinner). I smoked because it allegedly sped up one’s metabolism. Weight-wise I seemed to be getting even heavier! (Muscle weighs more than fat).
In the 80’s I had just about every organ in my body checked. All, I was told, were operating normally. So I joined a gym and went 7 days a week — aerobics followed by calisthenics followed by water-aerobics. Seriously. 7 days a week. I was fit, but fat. Working by day and dancing the night away. While I was the favorite “wing man” for my skinnier friends (who saw me as a lack of competition), I still managed to always meet someone at the clubs. Not losers either. Decent, kind men. I remember still how bewildered my skinnier sisters would be — how did I manage to meet a guy when they did not? There must, of course, be something wrong with him. How would that otherwise be possible?
Despite my mom’s worry that I’d grow up a fat, reclusive cat-lady who baked cookies for everyone in the neighborhood, I did “manage to catch” a husband — two in fact (in succession, mind you). I also had two kids. Their childhoods were spent outside — just like mine — one is fit and slender, the other is not.
Now it’s 2017. I’m still a size 18-20. I’m not as fit as I used to be — some areas that were once firm are a little jiggly. But I’ll wager I could still hold my own when it comes to everyday physical activity. My day starts at 5:30 a.m. and doesn’t end until 11 p.m. — work (lots of stairs), shopping, cooking, cleaning, yard-work (lots of yard-work), dog-walking, etc.
The issue of clothes remains (as Mr. Gunn pointed out). So does the issue of acceptance (as you have illustrated).
Being overweight is not synonymous with overeating, laziness, slovenliness, greed or gluttony. I shower at least once a day, my clothes are always clean and pressed and no, I don’t roll out of bed and head to the store (I think even Walmart would blink at that — I don’t own sleepwear). My hair is coiffed, my toenails are perfect and while I have my share of wrinkles, I try to take care of my skin — just like my skinnier sisters.
Perhaps the reason more and more children are having issues with being overweight — the “epidemic” — isn’t as much overeating, gluttony, slovenliness, etc. — as it is inactivity. Obesity is a symptom of a much bigger problems Video games, multi-player online games, cable TV (which we didn’t have as kids) and the growing inability to go outside under the age of 18 without parental supervision have not only hampered the social development of the younger generations, it has impacted their physical development too.
Instead I will close with the hope that before you launch into your spiel about “obese” people, you at least give some lip service to that concept. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder — not all people are born with perfect bodies, bone structures and metabolisms that they then abuse or corrupt somehow. No man, woman or child should be made to feel less human, less likeable, less WORTHY by our more-perfect peers for something as shallow as a few extra pounds.
Want to deplore something? Want to rant about how “fat people” are “costing us more” — I assume you meant skinny people? Those among my fit friends who are at the doctor monthly for allergies, depression, insomnia, fibromyalgia, asthma, botox injections, various injuries incurred doing extreme exercise because they’re paranoid about “getting fat”? “Cost more” than skinny meth addicts? People born with genetic health issues? Smokers (including pot)? Kids who are anorexic/bulimic or on meds because society demands they meet unreasonable/unattainable standards?
Deplore instead reasons people get sick enough to see a doctor: bad hygiene, gluttony, laziness, drug abuse, food abuse and GENETICS — but recognize that includes people of all shapes & sizes. You’d be amazed at how many “fit” folks only see soap a few times a week, eat like pigs, or are so lazy they’d shit in bed and kick it out with their feet. THOSE are the people who are “costing you more.” For me? 42 years of paying insurance premiums and only met my deductible 2x — when giving birth.
Just like books, women (and men) are born in all sizes and shapes. Don’t like my book because it has a large back-cover? Nobody says you have to buy it. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t an awesome story you’re missing out on.
Liz Clark