I wrote one of the feature articles for the inaugural edition. It’s probably generated the most response (to me, personally) that I have ever had on anything I’ve written — ever — even that stupid term paper in cadet teaching in high school that almost got me kicked out of the class!
We all fight our demons. You can catch a glimpse of some of mine in this magazine…and it’s on sale today! UNFILTERED
Here’s an excerpt from my feature – there are some other amazing authors in this first issue, as well. Brandon Early writes about the trauma of miscarriage. Rebecca Hug talks about being single. And I talk about being fat. You can read it all (and all the issues to come this year) for just 5 bucks! Subscribe today~
YOU LOOK HUNGRY
I’m fat. Not fluffy. Not big-boned. Not husky. Just plain old, unadulterated fat. I’ll be the last to starve in a famine. I’ll be the first to float in a water evacuation. And the insulation I wear should keep me warm, comfortable, and well-fed should my GPS ever direct my car into a snow bank in the mountains in the middle of December.
A few years ago I was on staff retreat with the other pastors at my church. We stopped at a local restaurant in the town we were ‘retreating’ in and were seated. Seated around the large, circular table, we probably looked like one of those Darwin theory photos, only instead of the progressions from Neanderthal to upright walker, this poster was about the progression of weight gain. Our super fit pastor, our normal looking associate, a few of the guys with a little bit of ‘middle’….and me. The waitress came by to take our order…perfectly, Southernly engaging…calling us all varying names for Sugar, Sweetie, and the like. She took each pastor’s order and then came to me. “And how ‘bout you, Hun – you look hungry.” The entire table erupted in laughter – how does one ‘look’ hungry, exactly? What she was trying to say was ‘Hey, jackwagon, you’re fat so you probably eat a lot – let me take your order.’ I teased back. “Are you trying to say I’m fat – because usually skinny people would be the ones who actually LOOK hungry.”
Been doing that for years…laughing off my weight. Making a joke before someone else has a chance to. Laughing at myself to drown out the laughter of others. But it’s really not funny anymore.
Looking back, I haven’t always had a problem with my weight…but I always THOUGHT I did. I was a pudgy kid. So even when I thinned out in high school, I still saw myself as a fat kid. So I have spent years gaining and losing and gaining and losing and gaining and gaining…until I have successfully landed at well over 300 pounds. All joking aside – that’s just not funny. Or healthy.
In this journey, I’ve learned some things about myself that many people attribute to fatties…..