I have a confession to make. As I take a deep breathe and then exhale, I am going to share this with you. I forget that I am fat. There now I have said it out loud. I feel so much better now that I have got that off my chest and out in the open. All kidding aside. I truly do not think of myself as fat, or that there is a thin person inside of me struggling to get out. I just accept me as me. I realize society at large perceives me as being a person with a weight problem and for some that means I need to be fixed. I am not broken. I am healthy, both physically and mentally. I am capable of giving and receiving love. I have a good job, a great family and a husband who thinks I am sexy as hell. It was a struggle to reach this nirvana, but now that I am here I am not letting anyone take it away from me. I refuse to allow society to place any limitations on me, because there is nothing that I cannot do at my current weight. In fact, I find that I am more comfortable with the person I am now then I was in my early 20s. I am not running around trying to fit into a mould of a perception of a perfect woman. I am the exact woman I was meant to be. My mission will continue to be, and strive for women to accept themselves as they are. Now if you excuse me I have to get back to my plan to parachute over Paris. The problem with this plan is not my weight but my intense fear of heights. This one is taking a lot longer to overcome then the numbers on my scale. One day at a time people, one day at a time.