It takes a big heart to feel big feelings. I must have been born with one because lately I’ve been taking a lot of things to heart. It’s funny how the harsh words of one rude person can tear down the biggest dreams of another person who is not really rude or even very mean.

           What am I getting at? Well, I think I can sum it up with this little maxim that I created the other day: Getting fat is harder than being fat.

           Being fat is something that I’ve had to get comfortable with throughout my entire life. Eating less doesn’t help. Exercise doesn’t help. Watching my weight doesn’t help. The fat is going to be all over my body no matter what I do. Eating a box of Snickers bars all at once, reading healthy cooking recipes, or trying to make it all the way through a Richard Simmons tape without taking a nap – it all leads up to the same conclusion: I’m fat.

I’ve learned over the years that it doesn’t matter how comfortable you are with your underarm flab, there’s a whole world of people out there who might not be comfortable with that flab when it brushes against their arm on an airplane or the back of their neck at the movie theater.

I’ve known plenty of girls who were skinny at one point in their lives and then they started putting on the pounds. Some try dangerous diets and some try to kill themselves, neither of which is worth the effort.

That’s why I say getting fat is harder than being fat. If those girls had been fat their whole lives, it wouldn’t be as hard to bear when they start gaining more weight. They would have had twenty years of experience with hiding rolls of back fat inside “extra large” shirts and finding nice pantsuits that help you sweat less when you walk around the house.

And that’s another side note I’d like to make: Who comes up with clothes sizes? Skinny Minnie? Why is a size 19 dress considered to be “large” or “plus-sized”? Why can’t a size 9 dress be considered “grossly underweight” or “skeleton-sized”?

Just a little food for thought right there. I know, I’d like a double helping of that myself sometimes.

But getting back on track, I’d like to tell all of my readers (thanks for all the letters, by the way) that true happiness doesn’t come from the opinions of other people, it comes from deep inside yourself. Actually, it’s from deep inside your belly. If you can’t take your stomach in both hands and give it a squeeze and feel happy about the hefty squishiness there, you need to find something new to do because you are not a happy person.

	Above: Bry-Bry being her usual cute self at school one day. I told her she looks like she's being arrested here. Spread 'em, Danno!

            My best friend Bryan and I were shopping for spoons the other day and a couple of little brat kids in the store started giggling at the rainbow overalls I was wearing. I guess it made me mad because I’ve worn these overalls since high school and I’ve always felt sort of proud of them.

Bryan turned to me and told me something that I’ve never heard her say before: “Barb, people who laugh at you are only laughing at themselves and how stupid they are.”

After that, Bryan treated me to some ‘za (pizza) and malts and soon enough, I was smiling again. I’ll never forget her tender words of encouragement, and I hope you won’t, either.

If you are a boy or girl who feels like there’s no way to escape from getting fatter, just know that you aren’t alone. As a matter of fact, there’s people like me and Bryan who have been fat for as long as we can remember and we wouldn’t have it any other way…

As always, drop me a line and I might send you a coupon for Baskin Robbins or something.