I was born to a set of progressive parents. I was a chubby kid. Not given to sports, not being a high-energy child, I started reading at an extraordinarily-early age (18 months!). My world of words was far more enjoyable than the crappy life with my family. Progressive politics was the conversational theme all the time, along with the arguments that arose from being far-left in the days of Eisenhower and Mccarthy.

As I got older, I was teased and tormented by schoolmates and teachers and grocery-store cashiers. It was devastating — -but my Mom made up for it by complimenting me on how bright/brilliant I was. Her friends did likewise. I never played sports, but I was invited to join MENSA.

Thus, my body dysmorphia continues. I haven’t looked at my entire body in a full-length mirror in about 40 years. I think that someday, somehow, I’ll work up the courage to do that, perhaps as a small step towards being comfortable in my own skin (literally). But until then, my sense of self-revulsion continues unabated. My love of words outweighs my love of my own body.

I used to smoke two packs of cigarettes a day, but haven’t had a smoke in over 16 years. I used to drink heavily — -but haven’t touched a drop of alcohol in nearly a quarter of a century — -so I know in my heart of hearts that I can make changes if I truly want to. The odd thing is that with smoking and alcohol, I know these addictions are life-threatening diseases. With food, on the other hand, the sense that it’s life-sustaining and essential is conflated with my sense that I “need” to consume more, even though I know I don’t.

Even my significant other rags on me because I’m overweight. The lack of understanding from someone you hope loves you is hard to take, but, perhaps, she feels that if I don’t love myself to get over the food problem then why should she love me? And then the craving for food renews itself, a way to get comfort in a painful world….

So, having finished writing my first book, and recognizing that I need to promote it, talk about it (Ted Talks, anyone?), appear on talk shows, I recognize that my mission isn’t over, and if my mission is worthy — -which I believe it is — -then I need to be an active (and attractive) voice to get others to join me.

The battle against junk food, inappropriate portion sizes, eating at the wrong times begins. Perhaps I’ll buy a full length mirror some day….