I do admit to eating-while-fat trepidation, though I can’t recall any especially mean remarks at the moment. But the incessant “oh, you’re trying to eat healthier, good for you” gets so very tiresome. I just don’t want your stupid frigging french fries!

People are always going to think a fat person sits around eating nothing but cheetos. Unfortunate, sometimes true, but frequently not.

Seriously though, I find the assumption of being out to be slim at any cost deeply offensive. I eat as much as I want, from a variety of foods, but I’m also small and look young for my age (27), which seems to elicit feelings of protectiveness even in complete strangers; apparently I must be a birdbrain who *has* to conform to acceptable standards. It’s a bit more understandable, I suppose, when this comes from my very Latin family, which equals food with love, not that it makes it less annoying. The need for questions like these is pretty perplexing to me – I myself can’t be bothered with paying attention to whatever it’s on someone else’s plate… well, other than my parents, that is – we’re at that age when the roles start to reverse, and I worry about their continued health (plus, it’s payback time, hee).

I wish I had something snappy to offer for occasions like these, but long experience hasn’t made me any better at thinking on my feet (bum!), so I usually just resort to earnest answers (as in: aren’t you even a bit embarrassed to be counting calories out loud? At your age?). Too bad I can’t think of a way to translate ‘ontorexic wackjob’ to Spanish without some of the impact being lost – must think of a suitable substitute for future use :)

On a side note, I love probiotic Kefir. My favorite flavor is Lifeway’s Pomegranate.

Yet, when she eats, people ALWAYS have to comment on it. What she’s eating. When she’s eating. How recently she ate before. Why she’s eating now. When she might eat again. The worst offender is an ontorexic wackjob we work with who bikes five miles every morning, eats a total of 150 calories (she’ll tell you, proudly!) during a 12-hour workday, then binges on red meat and Scotch at night.

I told Cindi to take my advice and use my patented comeback, but she says she’s too shy. When people ask me how I stay so muscular, I look at them over my plate and answer, preferably with my mouth full of food, “I fuck.”

In the real world (DC), I have one “friend” that will comment on my adventurous food choices and she has ceased to be a friend I go out to dinner with. Also my go to response to “your food is so weird” or something along those lines is “would you like to try some?” I’m also eating the same or similar amounts as my friends, so if someone wants to comment on my intake also has to comment on the people I eat with.