I never allowed myself to give in to my insecurities. I was a fat kid who acted like he wasn't, even though I hated getting naked, or wearing tight shirts, or jeans that weren't "husky," the former polite word for "human donut." I would date women who were very open about feeling fat, or just committed to not getting that way. I pretended to be the understanding boyfriend and would go on "sympathy diets" with them. Holy Zeus, am I sensitive or what? The truth is, it allowed me to experiment with dealing with my body issues. I have tried just about every crash diet out there, and am willing to talk at length about them to anyone. Atkins, South Beach, liquid diets, the cabbage soup diet, the foraging diet. I've taken diet pills and gone to saunas, and even tried Weight Watchers, which was the best of the bunch because it teaches portion control. Because of these diets, I eventually confessed my body image fears to a friend of mine, a hard-drinking construction worker. I actually opened up, and shared my feelings with a guy whose idea of a good time was drinking cases of beer, setting things on fire and shooting guns. (I have no problem with any one of these things. When done at the same time, however, they can get hairy.) He looked at me, blinked, and said, "John, if you think you're fat, stop eating so f**king much. Walk more. And don't put sugar in your coffee." And I don't. I take it black, a cup of Darth Vader. It was pretty good advice.
Written by John DeVore for The Frisky.
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