Fat Bottom Girls in a Skinny Jean World

If I had the time, money and gumption, I would file a lawsuit against the illustrators of “Lean Cuisine” and “Smart Ones.” Why? Making one of those meals appear to be large, filling and overflowing with cheese is false advertising if I’ve ever seen it. Ashton’s trying to cut down on the food if you can’t tell by the harsh opening line. Instead, you zap it for its initial 2 minutes. Then the pattern commences: scrape, stir, scrape, stir until 1 oz of cheese attempts to cover 11 small noodles (if that). There are usually a few lone noodles huddling naked in the corner after all is said and done.

It’s hard being a girl with a hefty appetite when you live in a skinny jeans world. I’ve always longed to be one of the girls who could say at a restaurant, “I need two to-go boxes please. I can’t believe how much that house salad filled me up before my meal.”Quite the opposite, I’m that person that gets the look and the “Well, I can see that you liked my recommendation.” You bet I did, lady. It was a chicken wrapped in bacon with melted cheese on it. Did you think I would pick at it?

The party is over. My pants are tight. I despise anything that requires a buttoning or zipping motion. When I smile, my cheeks become a shelf to my eyeballs. I used to be the girl who could eat anything and still maintain a flat stomach. Those days are no more. I now can feel the physical travel of a cake to my right thigh.

And I know being vulnerable like this leaves the gates open for mounds of advice that I don’t really want. I know what it takes. I love this one: “Well, you just have to burn more calories than you take in.” You’re kidding. That’s what I’ve been missing all these years? I’m not mourning because I don’t know what to do; I’m mourning because I will have to run on the treadmill for 8 hours in order to equal out my cinnamon roll. “There are several exercises you can do at your desk,” says SELF magazine. Oh really?  Because parents would really appreciate the school secretary doing lunges in a dress while they sign their child out. “There are several easy substitutions you can make. You won’t even notice.” Um, I may be shamelessly oblivious, but you aren’t going to slip in a 100-calorie pack for a Chocolate Chiller Smoothie without me noticing.

As you can tell, this process isn’t going to be easy for me. I’ve never read the book, “Made to Crave,” but I think it poses an interesting concept. We were made to crave and yearn after things—we’ve just decided to focus on the wrong things. What if I longed to read my Bible like I long to eat a hamburger and French fries? Why do I meditate on what my next meal is going to be rather than what I can do to improve my attitude? Why do I turn to a bowl of ice cream instead of prayer when I am sad?

Mission: God Not Gluttony starts now.

And I pity the next child who brings a leftover cupcake to my desk from their in-classroom party.