White Mothers and Weight
I was standing in the kitchen, opening up a cupboard, when I turned to my friend Sarah who was staying with me for the weekend. We had a sorority sister's wedding to attend. "Want some Cheeze-Its?" I offered. "No, thank you," Sarah replied politely. "If you didn't eat Cheeze-Its, you would look more like Sarah," my mother interjected. Sarah was much thinner than I, having gained a hefty amount of weight thanks to buffets, pizza, and beer in college. Sarah wasn't sure how to react to that statement. Instead, she stared at the placemat in front of her. I ignored my mother and defiantly continued my quest for cheese flavored crackers. I was used to her fat-shaming me. Once I put on the college pounds there was no going back. She would spend the next 15 years reminding me that I was not getting younger, yet I was getting heavier. When you picture my mother, you may think she is some beauty pageant vapid, shallow being. She's not. My mother...
