I Miss Being fat

If I'd been on a diet that would have been one thing....

I never thought I’d say it, but there it is, I miss being fat.  If I’d been on a diet that would be one thing.   But I gave up dieting many years ago when I had a gastric bypass at age 55. I’m 5’2” or I was back then. My weight stabilized afterwards from 250 to a still fat but not as fat 190 or so.   I got used to throwing that weight around.  I proudly wore size 2X  and didn’t long for smaller sizes.

Now 80, I’ve left behind all that longing to be thin stuff along with my youth and sexual desirability.   I cheered the body positivity movement, worshipped Lizzo, and admired all the young women who wore skin tight clothes despite their bulges and rolls.  I was finally happy with my own size, feeling that it was the opposite of frail, the curse of old age.  I felt robust, strong, healthy despite my numerous ailments including lung cancer and COPD.  In fact I was pretty strong.  I swam almost everyday, laps for about 15 -20 minutes.  My docs were impressed 

My health was stable for quite a while-- until it wasn’t.  In October 2022,   I was hospitalized for pneumonia and went downhill from there.     I’ve lost about 50 pounds in 5 months.  I look like a shriveled version of my former self.   No more big hips, curvy butt, capacious thighs, plush boobs, plump arms.  Instead, my thighs look like drapery, my arms like drapery swags, and my face—which was always thin—has become skeletal.   My hair has almost disappeared.   There is no way to put a positive spin on this kind of weight loss even though a friend who lost a ton of weight due to mouth cancer and had to use a feeding tube said she “Loved it.”  It took the hassle out of meal preparation, she said   She even wanted to use less calories in her feeding tube to lose more weight.

I have no words for that kind of insanity.

Clothes are a problem.   My clothes  are way  too big.   I actually put on a skirt that had once been too small and it fell off.   I already had it taken in once and don’t know if its even possible to do that again, but it’s a denim skirt and they’re not easy to come by so I’ll try.

I started this essay thinking it was about clothing.  But on re-reading it I now realize it’s about death.  What I really miss is not being fat, I miss being healthy.   For me fat equals health—as it does in so many African societies—where starvation is still a reality for millions.   I’m not about to starve—although many cancer patients do waste away.  

So many women say they’d rather die than be fat.  They are welcome to spend some time in my shoes.  I’d trade a size 2x for my current size 12 in a hot minute