I have had a yo-yo weight problem my whole life. When I was 17 years old I weighed 85 pounds, when I was in my 30s, at my largest, I was 170. I am 50 pounds less than that now, but sometimes I feel lost. I have a dislocated kneecap from an accident and cannot exercise comfortably beyond yoga stretches. I don’t have arthritis—the x-rays and MRI proved that—and I eat a low calorie vegetarian-based diet. My gauge is how my favorite jeans feel and they are tight. Every time I think I am going through menopause I get my period, but I haven’t seen it for a few months. I have never had a thyroid test—I always thought it was an excuse women used. I will think twice about that judgment now.

I watch my weight. Sometimes I talk to it. But no, I don’t struggle with it. It goes up and down…kinda like my moods…not too high, not too low. But I keep an eye on it. I try to remember that fat is hanging on in an effort to keep me safe. It shows up to serve me. And most the time, it really isn’t necessary. My armpits, for example. What’s that about? I sometimes imagine exercise being the signal that helps the fat feel okay about going away. The more strength I put back into my muscles, the more likely it is that the fat will realize I’m safe enough without it, an go on its merry way. If nothing else, playing these little games with myself keeps me entertained…which is another security signal. Keeping a “wiggle in my walk” is another one. I think women forget how to do that once they start having children. I know I did, but it really is good for the waist and thighs. The fat says, “Whoop, she’s wigglin’ again…guess we’re nothing but dead weight now. Let’s go!” Dr. Oz says, fat leaves in our breath and our sweat and our waste elimation systems. And guilt and stress can monkey with all those functions…especially if you’re living on next to nothing. That’s worrisome to fat. Maybe Oprah should try Dancing with the Stars. It worked for Marie Osmond.

My reoccuring nighmare: An elf is always running behind me carrying a sack of fat over his shoulder. I wake up in a cold sweat thinking he is going to catch me and dump that fat from my head to my toes! I have a low thyroid, am menopausal and live in a city that faces good times and bad with food, friends and parties. What’s more part of my job, as a columnist, is to cover parties! I’ve gained 30 lbs since moving from New York, where one walks everywhere, to New Orleans, where one drives everywhere. Oprah - I hear you. You have always told me I am still beautiful, And, while still working on myself - accept myself. Things I Know For Sure: Your honestly makes those of us who no longer weigh 127 lbs. feel better. We can be healthier. We can also be kinder to ourselves and others. We can embrace life … even when we hate our spreading hips, waistlines, and backsides. Still running from the elf, Diane Sustendal www.sustendal.net

Yes I do, and I feel for Oprah. I noticed her weight gain last year and wondered about it. For many years she was at the weight she wanted, but had to really work hard to maintain it with lots of exercise and diet. I know she has a personal trainer and the advice of Dr. Oz. And let’s face it, if she is having a problem with weight, imagine how the rest of us are doing. Stress has a great deal to do with this too. But Oprah has also showed us how to look beyond weight and embrace the good things about us. I wish her good health and happiness.

Being embarrassed is a waste of time and certainly not her style. She is far to successful in the important issues. What a society we have… Exercise to feel better, strengthen muscles and improve endurance. The weight will settle in and level out at what is best for you.

If Ms. O when out and started having sex on a regular basis she wouldn’t be so fat! What happen to her getting up at 5:00AM in the morning and working out? What?, the woman has a trainer, a cook, an alarm clock, a private work out room with all the equipment needed, and all the time in the world, so what is her problem? Ms O is just flat out lazy!

I absolutely can’t believe the crass responses to Oprah’s weight gain. From these I can tell: 1. those who dislike fat people; 2. those who are jealous as heck over people being rich; and 3. those who are just jerks. Now go ahead and call me names. By the way I have a thyroid problem due to losing thyroid function from surgery. I used to be skinny….I gained weight and I don’t overeat….I eat very little. To those of you who replied with a crass answer, you may at some time be blessed with the thyroid curse so you can see what happens to your body. Now I’m not wishing that, just …….

Yes I have gained weight along with knowledge and cash at the same time. When I started to jog I thought I heard applause but then realized it was my thighs hitting together. The awful plopping sound forced the neighbors to pay me to leave the neighborhood thus I turned flab into dollars. As a child I was a skinny malink whatever that meant. In Brooklyn it was a term used to describe anyone who looked average. Being plump meant your family had money or your mom was a good mom because she fed you well. I was a malink. (anyone know the origin of that word?) So was my brother as were my parents. Lucky me, once I went through chemotherapy 19 years ago and I never had to be maligned as skinny again. In spite of rumors to the contrary, most woman gain weight after that poison is pumped into our body. Hormones stop working; thyroid seriously sleeps and is on the missing link list. (Oprah, be kind to your self; low thyroid truly does slow down weight loss). Like Oprah I find it a struggle to regain-oops wrong word to use- to go back to the great body I once had. The Good News; it keeps Sean Connery and Michael Caine from stalking me. I love food, carbohardrates especially. I have recurring dreams of diving into a pool filled with pasta and eating my way to the top. Pasta is a lot like sex. Even mediocre Rigatoni is damn good to me. I do circuit and cardio training three days a week; dance as often as possible and have orgasms (100 calories each) often, sometimes with a partner. Still the pounds remain. Then again, I am a woman of a certain age and every gal I know in this vintage bracket is a bit hefty. So what must we make of this? In the Artist Rueben’s time both Oprah and I would be considered malnourished, too thin to be considered models for a portrait. Why do we not mentally go back to that time and love our lumps? This thinness theory has no (weight) or merit except the power we give it. In fact, my own scientific research proves that having cellulite indicates great sensuality. Oh, that poor Catherine Zeta Jones. And excess fat shows enormous intelligence. Lets not flaunt our flab to those less fortunate sisters considered knockouts by the naïve world. It is time for change in this country, alright. It is time for acceptance. As long as we keep healthy, what are a few more pounds in the scheme of life? My goodness, Oprah has done more for this world than most people. She is lovely inside and out. Who cares about pounds? We simply admire her essence. We must start the rumor that; “Being fat is where it’s at” and then tell a friend and pass it on. Write to your congressperson and suggest .our national anthem be changed to Louis Prima’s, “The Bigger the Figure, the More There is To Love”. Now, whatever are we going to do with all that extra time we will have not obsessing about our weight?

Time for Oprah to become an Opera singer and change that face from the front page of that magazine!