Are you truly happy?

Last night a television show caught my eye – a talk show discussing "The Fat Debate". What I witnessed was enough to write several articles – a LOT of drama and sensationalism. I am going to focus on one thing that has weighed heavily on my heart.

I didn't post yesterday because what I initially wanted to say would have come across incredibly mean-spirited. I have spent a lot of time thinking about this and even talked about it with a couple of close friends. Even now, I don't have the answers; at least I don't have answers for anyone except for me.

I don't want to spend time reviewing the show's topic, nor the merits of either side's arguments. I want to point out something that I find incredibly sad.

There were several women that were very obese who stood up and proclaimed to the world that they were perfectly content with their bodies. These ladies said that they were satisfied with where they were physically. One went as far as saying that she had never had any physical challenges because of her weight.

My initial response? Liar. (Told you it was brutal.) Still today, I find it hard to believe those people are being honest with themselves.

I have struggled with this all day today. I ask forgiveness in advance from anyone that I offend.

I've asked several people their thoughts and have had answers all across the board. But one comment seemed to get to the heart of the matter: "Ask any one of those women what they would choose if I could snap my fingers and immediately make them a healthy size 12." The number is not significant. It is the fact that almost anyone would choose a smaller, healthier size – IF they could have it immediately, without any effort.

I suspect that we tell ourselves we are satisfied or content with our bodies as a coping mechanism. It is VERY HARD to change a lifestyle, especially one that has been around for years – especially in a society that is all about the immediate and the short term. I am not pointing any finger, except to myself.

I had allowed myself to get to the point where I was having heart palpitations – to the point of having several thousands of dollars on heart tests. My asthma was getting worse. Both my blood pressure and cholesterol were at levels that required daily medication. Walking up a flight of stairs left me completely winded. I couldn't play outside with my kids because I had zero energy. I know, although no one would admit it to my face, people thought of me as lazy. My intelligence, determination, and work ethic were discounted because of my physical appearance. How on earth could I, could anyone, be happy with that?

Yet I convinced myself that I was. I think it was because I convinced myself that nothing could be done. So seriously, if nothing was going to change, I might as well find a way to be content in my circumstance. THAT, my friends, is NOT being happy. It is settling and it is selling yourself short.

I deserve better. We ALL deserve better.