The Power of a Few Kind Words

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Over the weeks and months that I’ve been writing this blog, a number of you have left nice messages in the comments. I wonder if you realize the impact you have? Do you know how just a few kind words can be enough to make my whole day? They make me feel important. They make me feel appreciated.

So many of us walk around in our lives feeling unappreciated. We feel like nobody notices what we do. Our hearts are heavy with the thought that no one understands what we are going through. But do you realize what power you have to change that for those around you? Do you see how just saying sincere thanks to people in your lives, from the woman at the Drive Thru at the bank to your best friend, to your mom, to your spouse can have an impact on them? And do you know what an impact it can have on you?

When you sincerely thank those around you, when you applaud them for the work they do, when you allow them to see that their efforts matter to someone, they feel good and you feel good. It’s a two-fer one deal. Now let me be clear. This is something I really wish I was better at doing. With my staunch Midwestern upbringing, it’s easy for me to politely thank perfect strangers, while at the same time be kind of lousy at thanking and encouraging those closest to me. I get busy. I forget. I don’t like to gush.

But when I look around me at the people who are most successful and the most happy, they are also the people most encouraging to those around them. So I am trying to be better. I am trying to get my head out of my proverbial butt a little more. And I am trying to verbalize what I am often thinking: how blessed I am to have smart, loving, joyful, generous, kind and awesome people in my life. I’m trying to remember to say thanks.

So my little chicklettes, you are indeed truly awesome! And thanks so much for listening.

Love,

The Fat Chick

The Next Big Crime for Women: Getting Older

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Yup, after getting fat, it seems the next deadliest sin for women is getting older. Unlike so many societies in the world that revere and honor people as we get older, our American culture (and much of the westernized world) worships youth. Nowhere is this more apparent than in Los Angeles where I currently reside. I can’t tell you how often I’ve met a successful male producer or director or actor who is toting around wife “version 3.0” who is 20 or 30 years younger than him and caring for a few new young kids. In Hollywood, the young, hot wife with cute little kids is the accessory of choice for successful men. A lot of men go through a midlife crisis. Some buy a Porsche. In Hollywood, men buy new families.

So it’s no wonder that I see so many women around me trying so hard to appear so young. Aside from the strict controls they seek to place on their weight, these women spend thousands of dollars on special cremes and potions to reduce wrinkles and fine lines, remove “age spots”, lift sagging breast tissue, tighten tummies and more. And if the topical application doesn’t work, many of these women get poison injected into their skin, or have plastic surgery or liposuction. I have a friend who nearly lost her house because she paid for a face lift she really couldn’t afford.

What a sad thing. We should be honoring women as they get older. We should learn from their wisdom. We should laugh with them as they recount some of their foibles. We should be offering each other strength and helping each other to relax rather than sharing the phone numbers for Botox clinics. We are privileged to live in a time when many of us live long enough to get old. Maybe we should be counting our blessings rather than counting our wrinkles or getting hair plugs.

Now look. In the name of full disclosure, I do color my hair. And I do wear sunscreen. I don’t object to taking a few steps to help you feel good about yourself. But I DO object to the notion that once your appearance marks you as beyond a certain age, you are no longer relevant to society. I object to the idea that women over 40 should find it harder to find work, or that women of any age should be part of a “discarded family” because they don’t match the upholstery of a sports car or rate high as red carpet arm candy. I object to spending a large part of your life trying to fight the inevitable effects of becoming an older person.

So my little chicklettes, if you are young, seek the councel of women who are older and more experienced. And if you are older, why not get together with other women to laugh and support one another? Why not celebrate your mature status? You could come out and join one of our upcoming Hot Flash Mobs. Or you could just get together at somebody’s house and drink some wine and eat something absolutely fabulous. Host a lingerie party. Put on some sparkly clothes and head out to a club. Take just a little time to celebrate your privilege in growing older and still being able to walk around and enjoy this universe of ours.

Love,

The Fat Chick

Thursday Theater: Learning the Menopause Mambo

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Hello my dear Chicklettes,

Today, I’d like to present to you, the Menopause Mambo. This VERY easy dance is what we’re doing at our Hot Flash Mobs around the country (and the world). It’s only 4 different steps and the song is less than three minutes long. And, oh yeah, it’s super fun!

The Hot Flash Mobs are to celebrate Menopause Awareness Month (September) and World Menopause Day (October 18). Rather than seeing menopause and perimenopause as something to be dreaded, Dr. Eve Agee and I came up with The Hot Flash Mobs as a way to appreciate this new time of creativity and power in a woman’s life and to demonstrate the amazing power of women getting together, supporting one another and having a really good time.

Flash mobs are forming in New York City, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Fayatteville, Arkansas and Chicago. Plus, you can start a flash mob of your very own, wherever you live! Just learn the dance, gather some friends and a video recorder (or cell phone that records video) and preserve your collective awesomeness for posterity!

So get out there and shake your tail feathers!

Love,

The Fat Chick

The Hot Flash Mob is Comin’ to Town!

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Well we’ve been working feverishly behind the scenes and I’m so excited to reveal our new Hot Flash Mob Movement, a worldwide, synchronized dance flash mob movement held to honor perimenopausal and menopausal women everywhere. We’ll be kicking things off in the month of September in honor of Menopause Awareness Month.

This movement was the brainchild of me: (certified fitness professional, Jeanette DePatie AKA The Fat Chick) and menopause expert dear friend Dr. Eve Agee.

Frustrated by the negative and fear-mongering approach to menopause in our society we asked this question:

“What if instead of fearing menopause, we threw a great big party to celebrate it?”

That’s why we dreamed up the notion of The Hot Flash Mob Movement, a series of spontaneous, hot, group dance experiences allowing women from around the world to get together, have a big laugh and shake their collective groove things. Our first annual Hot Flash Mobs will be starting very soon. So hop on over to the website to learn all about it.

Love,

The Fat Chick

You Can’t Buy Fitness: Why Buying Lots of Stuff Won’t Get you Fit

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How much did you spend on that device for hanging laundry?

How many of you out there started a fitness program by buying something expensive like a big piece of exercise equipment or a long-term plan at the gym? And how often did you think, “If I paid all this money for it, I’ll surely stick with it!”? Did ya think feeling guilty about your purchase would make you work out? Did it work? Or do you have an extremely fancy place to hang fine washables otherwise known as a treadmill?

Look, I myself have gone down this path many times. And it has failed me many times. Because there is a very annoyed little kid inside me that resents being coerced into exercise based on guilt. And she rebels. That kids says, “No way! I ain’t gonna play!”

This cycle of spending money, feeling guilty about spending money, trying to use that guilt to fuel an exercise routine, not exercising and feeling extremely mad at myself went on for a long time in my life. In fact, I had to declare a moratorium in order to stop the cycle. I can remember for a period of two years here in Los Angeles, I took a moderately-priced and absolutely fantastic dance class. You could for the classes one at a time, or pay in groups of 10 or 30 classes. Of course the more classes you bought at one time, the cheaper the class was. One day, the teacher finally asked me, “Why do you not buy a group pass, when you come week after week?” I finally admitted, “You know, I think I come week after week because I never bought a group pass.” Yup, this was a cheap Jedi mind trick, but it worked for me. I went to that class two or three times every week for nearly two years.

I think this is because handing the money over for each class allowed it to feel like a treat. I had saved up for that class and was lucky to get to dance rather than fulfilling an obligation. It may seem crazy that I went through all of that and paid extra money because I couldn’t get my inner kid to stop pouting over my previous and devious attempts to fuel exercise with money. But that kid pouts to this day. And I still pay for exercise options a little at a time.

Now that I teach exercise and sell books and DVDs and sell training, of course I’d love for people to make big investments in exercise. But I really just want people to work out and learn to love their bodies and love exercise again. And I’d rather that folks just buy a book and then read it or buy a DVD and then watch it, than have them buy a gabillion dollars worth of my stuff and never use it.

So my little chicklettes, I’m encouraging you to dip your toe in the water. Try before you buy. Just buy one book or one DVD. Buy one week of training or consulting. Find a gym that doesn’t penalize you too heavily for paying weekly or monthly. Because working out is not an obligation to be dreaded, but a very special treat.

Love,

The Fat Chick

Smart Enough to Laugh at Myself?

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The other day I saw this picture and I laughed out loud. I mean clearly this is a picture of a smart dude. This guy is one of the greatest theoretical scientists like, ever. There is no doubt that his contribution to science is epic. But here he is wearing big, fluffy, fuzzy slippers and clearly having a bit of a laugh about himself. And I thought, yup Einstein was a smart guy. He was even smart enough to laugh at himself.

And it made me think. I used to laugh at myself all the time. I used to wear big floppy hats in public and sing out loud in convertibles and dance on the sidewalk and wear men’s clothing sometimes just for the heck of it. I dared the universe to look at me funny. I just did what I felt like and told the world they could like it or lump it.

But somewhere along the way, I think I got a little too serious about myself. I started worrying a lot more about what people might think of me. I bought nice clothes—sometimes because I liked them, but also as protective coloring to allow me to blend in. I got quieter and smaller. I tried to be less a target.

But now, as I get older, I’ve gotten bolder. I’ve got pictures of me in feather boas with the words “The Fat Chick” underneath. I wear purple. I smile big. I dance in public. Because I’m learning again not to take myself quite so seriously. I’m relearning how to laugh at myself.

So my little chicklettes, I dare you to do something loud and crazy and goofy today! Put on a big floppy hat. Sing out loud in a convertible with the top down. Dance on the beach. Weave flowers in your hair. Feel the freedom of having a little giggle at yourself.

Love,

The Fat Chick

Stuff that Weighs More than Me: Blue Whale Tongue

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I’m sure you could guess that a whale weighs more than me. I mean whales are BIG. I mean REALLY big. But what you might not know is that the whale is the big mouth of the sea. Seriously. Whales need big mouths to eat their very big dinners. During the high feeding season, a whale will consume 4-6 tons of teeny tiny krill per day. In order to do so, their throats expand to take in as much as 50 tons of water in one gulp!

The blue whale is also the loudest creature on earth. Blue whale song can reach 188 decibels. For comparison’s sake, a jet engine on takeoff is about 140 decibels and the human pain threshold is 120 decibels. Luckily the whale’s song doesn’t hurt the ears of other underwater animals who have ears that can tolerate such high amplitude. The song of a blue whale can be heard up to 500 miles away.

And then we have the blue whale’s tongue. This thing is massive y’all. Here’s the stats:

Estimated length: 19 ft.

Estimated area: Large enough for 50 people to stand upon it.

Estimated Weight: About 4 tons

Conclusion: A whale’s tongue weighs more than me.

Fine Dining Doesn’t Come Through the Window

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In the name of true confessions, I eat in my car more than I would like. I am really struggling to schedule my life a little less tightly so that I am not so tempted to just grab something to eat on the way to somewhere. Because from the standpoint of being way overscheduled and experiencing multitasking run amok, the drive-thru is awesome. From the standpoint of health, happiness, joy, wellness and having the remotest chance of actually enjoying my food, not so much really.

Now, I don’t want to dis drive thru dining if that floats your boat. If you’re a consenting a-dult, you get to make your own choices. I just know that eating drive thru while negotiating 80 MPH LA traffic which is randomly punctuated with 2 MPH LA traffic (encompassing both fast food and slow food in the same journey) is not conducive to good digestion. And since eating can be a super-awesome pleasurable thing, it’s sad to see it reduced to a situation where I can’t enjoy it or focus on it. Drive thru dining does not always offer the healthiest food options. And the recent McDonalds apple slice recall is making me reluctant to order anything that hasn’t been cooked until it is well and truly dead.

So my little chickadees. If drive through dining rocks your world, by all means, go to it. But if it’s simply a matter of needing to prioritize joyful eating in your life, then I’d like to invite you to get up a few minutes earlier, drive a few minutes further and take a few minutes longer so you can sit down at a table, tuck your napkin under your chin, and really savor the tastes that life has to offer.
Love,

The Fat Chick

What Everybody Knows

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I got yet another comment on the video of Julianne and I on Fox News as posted on my YouTube channel congratulating us for saying that plus-sized people should feel good about ourselves, and then chastising us for saying that fat can be healthy when “everyone knows” that fat can’t be healthy.

I replied, “please review some of the evidence listed below refuting the idea that everyone knows fat is unhealthy”. You see, somebody had started an argument earlier on the very same thread about the very same thing and a lot of size acceptance folks (including me) posted links to scientific studies that indicate fat people can be and often are healthy.

Within just a few short minutes of my reply, the poster withdrew her comment from my channel. I’m not sure what to make of this. Did the poster change their mind? Did the poster just not want to argue? Were they embarrassed? I’m just not sure.

I do know this. I hear this “everyone knows fat people can’t be healthy” argument a lot. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot. But just because someone says the earth is flat doesn’t mean I have to believe it. Just because somebody points to the horizon and asserts that I will fall off the edge of the world, doesn’t mean I can’t get in my boat and go sailing.

It can be hard to argue with folks who bring up the “everybody knows fat people can’t be healthy” argument. Sometimes it seems like there aren’t enough sanity points in the whole world to deal with this nonsense yet again. But maybe the best way to deal with the fallacies that “everyone knows” to be true is to stand up and say, “Not me! I don’t agree, and here’s why.” Because throughout history, “everybody has known” one lie or another to be true, until enough people stood up and said “Not me. I don’t believe it.” Or at the very least, some people stood up and said, “Oh yeah? Prove it!”

My dear chicklettes, don’t allow yourselves to be bullied by what “everyone knows”. Get your hands on the facts. Do the research. And don’t allow yourselves to be stressed out by arguments from those too lazy to actually support what they are saying with statistics or numbers or citations. Because what I know is that you are awesome and deserving of respect.

Love,

The Fat Chick