I am fat.

There. I said it. The F word. I’m big. I’m large. I am, in fact, huge. Do any of those words feel more comfortable to you than “fat?” The fact is, I’m fat. And I’m embarrassed about it. When you see me, there’s no hiding it. I’m fat. I have excess fat. A lot of it.

I’ve never really understood the fascination or the shame that goes along with the number on the scale. Whether I tell someone I weigh 600, 500, or 200 pounds, really means nothing. You see me. This is what I am. Weight is useful for tracking progress in becoming healthier. It’s far from the only thing worth tracking, but for me, who suffers from knee pain, every pound off my body is four to six pounds of pressure off my knees — or so they say. So, it’s a good way to track progress.

It’s not the number on the scale that embarrasses me. It’s the way I look. It’s how I move — or how I can barely move. It’s how I jiggle when I walk. It’s how people — strangers on the street — will walk past me and then look back at me to see my huge butt jiggle. Let’s face it — it’s interesting to look at.

I’m at 396.4 pounds. Yes, today, August 3, 2024, I weigh 396.4 pounds. I said it out loud to a bunch of strangers. And people who actually know me. That was scary. It’s not the highest I’ve ever been. But it’s on the higher side. So, it’s out there and it doesn’t matter.

Because I am what I look like. And that’s what I want to change.

My goal is to be able to move better. Be able to live my life easier. Be able to do things I just can’t do now. Someday, I will be able to sit in any chair I want without worrying about the arms of the chair. I don’t care what the scale says on that day. I only care what my body can do.

On that day, I will still be fat. But I will be less fat. And that’s progress.