Love your jiggly bits

Or:

Burn your scale.

Just a bit more on the Valerie Bertinelli’s In a Bikini People Magazine Cover:

Look, I understand Hollywood eats its young and its overweight, but that’s Hollywood and we’re not, and think what the world would be like if we didn’t worry so much about our weight.

I always weighed roughly the same (135) until I hit 40 and almost immediately put on 10 more pounds, and change. I know this because I have the occasional doctor’s appointment where they’ll want me on a scale. I gamely climb up, but other than that, I don’t care.

Maybe this stems from my days as an athlete, a role I’d still like to think I fill but I probably don’t — at least, I don’t like I did when I was younger. Back then, my body was for a specific purpose, and starvation wasn’t it. While many of my friends were dieting, I was eating properly and running and stretching. Weight had nothing to do with it; God bless sports.

A few years ago, I realized I’d skipped going to my gynecologist for something like six years (it happens) and when I realized my error, I made an appointment. My regular doctor was on vacation, so I went to one of his partners. I climbed up in the stirrups and tensed while the doctor brought out that metal gizmo they store in the freezer overnight. That concluded, the doctor checked my chart, frowned, and said, “Seems like we’ve put on a few pounds since the last time we were here,” and I said, all chirpy, “How many pounds have we put on?” and he said, “Two pounds.”

I saw white, then red. This was a doctor who was overweight by any standard, and he had no idea if I had body image issues, so I asked him how much weight he’d put on in the last six years.

I thought the nurse in the room was going to choke on her own spit, and the doctor refused to answer, but I kept at him. I am a trained interrogator, but I only use my powers for good. I flat-dab hounded him for all those women who might be pushed over the edge by someone drawing attention to her weight — even innocuously so. Two pounds. Seriously?

25. He finally volunteered that in six years, he’d put on maybe 25 pounds and even though it was mean, I started laughing and didn’t quit until the exam was concluded rather quickly.

I didn’t have to be hateful, I know, but once I was launched, there was no going back. I feel for women like Valerie Bertinelli, who for all their successes still feel like they have to meet some cockeyed Beauty Ideal. I’m a year older than her and feel just real blessed that no one expects me to climb into a bikini. I’d feel kind of sorry for them if they did.

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