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Navin R. Johnson: The most exciting game on the midway! Imagine the thrill of getting your weight guessed by a professional! You can blow up your cheeks, you can stick out your chest, but you’re not going to fool the guesser. How ’bout you, sir? Step right up! Carnival Goer: Hey honey, let’s see how good this guy is. Now what do I win? Navin R. Johnson: Ah, anything… in this general area, right in here. Anything, below the stereo, and on this side of the Bicentennial glasses. Anything between the ashtray, and the thimbles. Anything in this three inches. Right in here, this area, that includes the Chiclets, but not the erasers.

So the outpouring of commentary regarding my bikini post, and the subsequent news sources that have picked it up, has been amazing. I’m glad that it touched such a nerve, but it also left me doing two really weird things.

1. Defending my legit plus size-ness. Which is cool, I mean, I shop for panties at Lane Bryant and I can only buy accessories and drawer pulls at Anthropology. My jeans range from size 14-18, and if you want to borrow them, you totally can.

2. Assuring people I am healthy. Which is weird, because when I meet people of like, any size, I almost never assume they are unhealthy unless they are actively mainlining heroin. Also because I’m not their physician or the Cool Ranch Dorito Taco police. People are all, hey it’s cool you look this way, you know, as long as you are healthy, and I want to be like, um you too, man? And then I fist bump them, because I am not entirely sure how to respond to that. It was my non-medical degree assumption that people can be unhealthy at any size.

Anyways, this whole entire thing reminded me of a conversation Andy and I had last night, and in a very things you can tell just by looking at her fashion, I figured I share it with you.

Hey, I’m trying to practice guessing people’s weights, can I guess how much you weigh?

Why are you practicing this?

It’s just a skill I like to keep fresh, in case I need to ever work at a carnival or something.

Alright, what’s your guess?

170. You have to give me a 8lbs margin of error.

Weird, you’re right.

I know, it’s like a super power. Now you go!

Haaaaaaaa no.

No seriously, I bet you’ll never guess!

Nope, if I guess too high or something you’ll be pissed, Pass on that.

Andy, I won’t be pissed, I swear. On our kids. And on Sims3, which don’t tell anyone, but I’m secretly playing.

160?

You’re adorable, at the doctor yesterday I weighed 209.

No you didn’t.

True story.

And so I pulled out the scale and hopped on. I mean, what? He’s going to divorce me because I weigh over 200lbs? That seems like way more paperwork than it’s worth and lawyers are hella annoying.

People carry weight in all different ways. You can’t draw a line in the sand and toss assumptions on either side. I do this, all of this, to show you what a real person looks like at this weight. And what a real person looks like in those clothes. To either confirm or destroy everything you thought you knew about your body.

I’ve never lost friends or boyfriends or husbands over my scale. And it’s also not what was holding me back from having an amazingly exciting career, chasing all the things I never imagined I could achieve.

I always wanted someone to do this for me, and it’s an honor to be part of the group of women who are now doing it for you. All somewhere between 209 and 214lbs of me.

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