I fully admit it - I have an issue with fat people.  That's not accurate; I have issues with fat people.  I don't like the way they look, they sometimes smell bad, I think of them as lazy, overly self indulgent, apathetic and, in a word, gross. 

I'm not a model, but I've always been active, enjoyed exercise and was lucky enough to be born with an above average metabolism.  Hell, even after turning 40 I continue to consume more than the average amount of unhealthy calories with little or no effect on my weight.  I was even a personal trainer for a few years.

The other day I was hanging out with one of my best friends who's always been, shall we say, overweight.  The last few years have not been good to him in this regard.  He's ballooned (there's no other word for it) to well over 350 pounds.  Everyone in his family is heavy, his older brother being at least 100 pounds heavier (though 5 or 6 inches taller). 

My friend has started to hate himself.  He won't leave the house unless he has to. He’s abandoned, and in doing so been abandoned by, most of his friends.  He comes home from work, grabs whatever he's going to eat and plops himself in front of a 52-inch television and watches sports or movies until he falls asleep in his chair.  How do I know he hates himself?  Because those are the words he used when he told me how he feels – “I hate myself.”  And it's partially my fault.

He hates himself because "society" has labeled him lazy, overly self indulgent, apathetic and, in a word, gross.  He hates himself because people like me sometimes look at him and take out our self loathing on him.  We justify it by saying, "Well, at least I'm not like that poor, fat bastard."  Every week he tells himself that next Monday he’ll start from scratch: he’ll go to the gym, watch what he eats, convince himself that his weight does not define who he is.  And every Tuesday he tells himself the same thing again.

Last Sunday I met him at his place (since he won’t go out) and we had the same conversation as usual.  I suggested we go for a walk, and he said he was starting his new regimen tomorrow.  Hell, I wasn’t suggesting we start training for a marathon.  It was a nice day and I thought he should get out of the house.  “I have nothing to wear.  All the shirts for people…my size…go down to my knees.”  I suggested we go to a thrift store.  For $20 we can find him a closet full of shirts and pants.  

Then the excuses came out. 

“If I buy clothes for my size then I’ll just throw them away when I lose the weight.”  That’s why we go thrifting. 

“I don’t have time.”  That’s just a lie. 

“No one wants to date someone like me.”  Aha.

“I’m not attracted to fat girls.”