fat is a feminist issue

A friend just posted about how she despises her body right now, because she is more than 20 pounds up from her weight last year.
I want to affirm my friend: 20 pounds is serious. And excess weight is a big health problem. And I can understand feeling frustrated and sad that clothes don't fit. I don't think God desires her to be that much overweight; I hope she's able to get back to a healthier equilibrium.
And yet: I just saw her yesterday and thought (she's a bit older than me): God, I hope I look that young when I'm older.
Reading her post made me sad. And a bit angry (not at her).

I have three people close to me in my life that have struggled with serious eating disorders. I studied ballet for 15 years, so I was surrounded by weird body images (Once I asked if anyone had feminine hygene products in the dressing room and got a few weird laughs and: "Oh, I haven't used any for years."). Plus just years of SoCal lifestyle, spent listening to attractive, otherwise confident women express disgust with themselves.
I know for some women (and men) no matter what they do, their bodies add weight easily. For whatever reason, mine does not, so I know I can't understand how difficult this issue is for people. I really believe that bodies have their own equilibrium, a weight that is natural, healthy, and unique. Some people, (given the same healthy lifestyle) will settle at 100 pounds. SOme at 120. Some at 150. Some at 180. And I wouldn't be surprised if that weight creeps up as we get older. Yet our culture has a one-size-fits all approach to weight: 100 is wonderful! 120 is acceptable! 150 is shameful!

Though I got lucky with body type, I've had my own issues. It was kind of a point of pride in high school that I didn't have to worry about weight--and I remember (cringing, now) that I thought, when other girls were less than nice to me, well, at least I'm thinner.
Then I went to college. My weight crept up (probably by 10-15 pounds, like most people). My clothes didn't fit. I was embarrassed when I went to the store and tried on my old size, and it didn't fit. Even the new size didn't fit sometimes. I had to wear my mom's size (She's not fat, so I am not quite sure what the problem was). I remember going to the beach with a friend of mine and wearing shorts the whole time while she gamboled about in a bikini. I was embarrassed of my body.
It bears mentioning that the friend in the bikini was then struggling with anorexia, quite seriously. She was emaciated, and looks so much more beautiful now that she's gained weight. Her eyes were out of whack. But mine were too.
I'm lucky that I decided not to diet then. I'm so thankful that not dieting was a point of pride (wrong reasons, but it protected me from the rollercoaaster). I decided that my body was at a new equilibrium b/c I wasn't dancing, and that I would accept it. I bought new pants and gave away the old ones.
After I got married, I stopped drinking Coke. And started following my husband's eating patterns (he stops eating before he's full, and takes small portions). And ate less and less junk. And started noticing more and more that bad food made me feel like crap. Now, when I drink a Coke (once a week or so) I notice how terrible I feel for the rest of the day. And I'm breastfeeding. And on a restricted diet because of Lucy. And so I don't weight much.
I'ts funny, being pregnant and then not pregnant really makes people notice your weight. Nearly everyone comments "how good I look". Meaning thin. Women talk about how they want to look like I did when they're pregnant (because you couldn't really tell I was pregnant if you saw me from the back). I thought the same thing, ten years ago, when someone close to me was pregnant: she looked like herself plus a basketball. But she struggles with bulemia.
There's something wrong with all of us when being thin means you "look good". When we look at someone who's sick or outside the realm of normal (most models, some ballerinas, etc) and think "that's healthy or attractive". When we're (I include myself here) concentrating more on weight in pregnancy and after than fetal health or milk supply.

The thought has occurred to me: my weight will go up when Lucy's not breastfeeding anymore, and when I can eat bread and ice cream to my heart's desire. This thought has troubled me. I don't want it to. But it does. Will I be able to enjoy the freedom to eat and not think about how I'll almost certainly go back up to my weight pre-Lucy? When I stop fitting into my old clothes will I cringe? Or shrug?

I think women are crippled by this self-loathing and competitiveness. And by the other side: the excess weight from poor diet or lack of exercise that keeps us from being our true energetic selves. I think all of American culture has an eating disorder. We eat crappy food that makes us feel lousy, both inside and out. We don't enjoy our bodies--have awe for the marvelous machines they are. I really beleive that God desires to free us all from these obsessions.

So, my friend, I'm sorry you've been feeling bad about yourself. I hope you can find ways to lose the weight without sacrificing your health. I hope that both of us can see ourselves through God's eyes: the dear fingernails, growing on their own. The eyes that focus to different distances, without us even thinking. The friendly wrinkles on our knuckles, that have been there since birth. The heart and mind and lungs that keep us alive, so mysteriously. The moles and spots and scars that are our own private constellations.

Truly, we are fearfully and wonderfully made.