I Love You. You're Beautiful. Eat

In a recent conversation with one of my very best friends we came to a realization that we are fat because of our families. It's not a blame game. We are accountable. Sure. However; we had ourselves in one of those howling, belly hurting episodes of laughter because a light bulb moment went off that without a doubt one of the most memorable parts of our fantastic childhood was that those who adored us basically lived under the mantra...I love You. You're Beautiful. Eat! Arms outstretched to hug and kiss us. Arms outstretched to show us that we are good and gorgeous children who can conquer the world. Arms outstretched with a platter of rich, unhealthy eats. Every family celebrates and gathers around food. The Italians are famous for it at Nonna's house. The East Indians set a lovely spread at the public picnic areas. Jews love a table of 20 around their brisket at Yom Kippur. The Black's are all about soul food. Us white folk love nothing more than a moist turkey and it's trimmings. My upbringing was very full. Of love. Support. Values. Assurance. I did not lack. I went without little so long as it was realistic. I would go so far to say that it made me full...literally. Portion control? What's that? I never left a table hungry. I left happy though, believe you me. My visit to a psychic a few weeks ago professed that I carried a lot of pain. Hogwash. How could I? I never even carried my lunch to school. My mother brought it from my favourite fast-food joint. Everyday. I carry no guilt. I bear no cross. I have no stories of abuse, hardship, or even gawd forbid...famine. It's always been feast! I hated going to swimming lessons as a child. Just in the last few weeks my mother and I reminisced that while yes, I certainly hated going; I definitely had no problem with the spin thru the McDonald's drive-thru afterwards. Every time. It's just as my friend and I compared notes. That when we were children our parents wanted nothing more than us to be happy. They wanted us to be sure we knew we were loved. They wanted us to be sure we knew they thought we were the most beautiful things they ever set their eyes upon. They wanted us to be sure that we lived well. Living required eating. They fed us. Well. We are Loved. We're Beautiful. We Ate.

Toodles