The refusal (or to be less harsh) the unwillingness to take responsibility for one’s one decisions and circumstances is pervasive in our society. I am fat. I admit it. And it isn’t anyone else’s fault but mine. And although doctors may beg to differ (as unattractive as begging is), I feel healthy, get around just fine, am cute as a button, and don’t otherwise have any health problems. So until and unless the fat itself becomes a problem, I’m not worrying about it. On the other hand, I’m not sitting around chug-a-lugging milkshakes and eating hamburgers by the dozens. [But don’t scroll down too far on my blog or you’ll find the photos I took of the batch of artery-hardening chicken I fried just this time last week!] One thing that has always bothered me about the various 12-step programs is that right off the bat, they start out by making you say that you are powerless. Well, no, you aren’t. No one is. Once you get over that stepping stone, ALL things are possible, no? The number of people with bona fide eating disorders or metabolic problems is probably much smaller than reported. Everyone who is overweight would probably like to blame their condition on something other than their own bad habits. And face it, wouldn’t you rather eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Chocolate Fudge Sundae than a fat-free rice cake? I also found the correlation between the anti-smoking campaign and the increase in obesity kind of funny. When I was much younger, I attempted to lose weight by smoking, as I’d heard that when you smoked, you didn’t feel like eating. Au contraire, mon frere! The minute I put a cigarette in my mouth and took that first drag, I found myself wanting to eat to get the taste of the vile thing out of my mouth. So much for that experiment!It took me a long time to get where I am now, mentally. To decide that I like myself fine and dandy just the way I am. If someone else has a problem with me, my weight, my appearance, my attitude or anything else about me, it’s just that: their problem.