The following is a guest post from my amazing friend Steph.

If you are the “Fat Friend”, you will totally understand my rant. If you are the “Skinny Friend”, then read this and be more sensitive!
If you were “Formerly Fat”–remember what it was like and be sensitive to those who are still fat.

OK–so if you are the skinny friend, there is never ever any need to brag, in front of your fat friend,
how you inherited the “best metabolism” and how you can eat anything you want, including Pumpkin Pie for breakfast for a week,
without gaining a pound. It is never OK to say “I almost ate my entire burger!” while looking at your fat friend who DID eat their entire burger.

It’s damn rude and just effing mean.
STOP IT.

It’s not encouraging or motivating to your fat friend to hear how thin you are, and how you have been blessed with Grandma Betty’s genetics.

It makes us want to eat more, to comfort ourselves with the one thing that makes us fat.

And I just want you to know, skinny friend, that no matter how perfect you think you are, and your life is, you are still a bitch and you always will be.
If you wonder why we don’t hang out like we used to, it’s because of this.
You make me feel like shit.

Take a cue from other skinny friend who didn’t say a word when you were going ON and ON and ON,
and shut your pie hole.

It’s not like I woke up one morning when I was thin, and thought “Hmmm, I wonder what it’d be like to be FAT!! I think I shall just eat and eat and eat until I’m obese! Yay, this will be fun!”
No.

It happens gradually, over a period of 14 years…..it starts with getting married, and feeling loved and comfortable.
And you gain 10 pounds.

Then, you get pregnant, and you and your hubby are over the moon, and well, you are eating for two, and he’s willing to get you cheesecake at midnight, to satisfy your cravings.
And you gain 50 pounds.

Then you give birth, or have a c/s, and lose 30 pounds in the hospital,
and bring home a beautiful baby boy, you are the happiest you have EVER BEEN.
And those 30 pounds creep back on, while you decide to be a stay home mom and you sit and gaze at your baby all day long.

Then your son is 2 and you are expecting another baby!
Life is PERFECT!
You lose 15 pounds while pregnant, and people comment on how great you look.
Then your baby dies.
You give birth to death.
Your perfect life is shattered.
You go home, empty.  No baby to care for or nurture.
And people, who mean well, bring food.  Because that is comfort.
So what do you do?
You mindlessly eat it.
While you think of your baby, and how life is now changed forever, and you wonder WHY and how will I go on? you eat spoonfuls of delicious mashed potatoes and homemade casseroles.
And you gain 20 pounds.

Then you decide to TRY AGAIN!!!
And you deal with month after  month after month of disappointment, of negative pregnancy tests, and the months turn into years, and you again turn to food for comfort, and you gain another 20 pounds.

Five years later you decide that you will never have more children and that your one son is enough, and you join the YMCA and lose 25 pounds and get on Metformin, because you’ve discovered you have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome.
You feel happy again, and have stopped obsessing with Home Pregnancy Tests.
The sight of a pregnant woman doesn’t make you run to the nearest pretzel stand, and you can look at a newborn across the room without needing an M&M fix.
You buy a silver sports car, and you drive it fast thru the mountains, it’s exhilarating!

Then, you feel sorta sick. Like you could barf, but not really…..you remember this feeling, but are scared.
And your Very Fertile friend laughs at you and says to take A TEST.
So you do.
It immediately turns positive…..and the holidays are approaching, so you plan to make a big announcement on Christmas day.
Your family will be SO EXCITED.
You can barely contain your own excitement.
But before you can pack your suitcase to drive home, the spotting starts.
Your Fertile Friend calls and asks you why you missed Church.
You tell her.

She drives over, picks up you and your son, drops your son at her home with her husband and her many children, and she takes you to the ER.
She holds your hand while the Doctor examines you, and tells you that you have lost this baby,
She cries with you, because she has had a miscarriage also, and because she loves you and wanted more kids for you too.
You have to call your husband from the ER, to tell him, because he left the day before you found out you were pregnant, on a big job in another state, and he didn’t even know you were pregnant, because you were planning a big deal to tell him!
Instead you have to tell him—”Don’t get excited, but I’m pregnant, but miscarrying”
So you go home, to a quiet house, and you feed your son, and you eat…..trying to find something to dull the pain…..
At Christmas, you tell your family, they are devastated for you, again.
And offer food, for comfort.

Your Sister In Law, who is hugely pregnant and due soon, cannot find it in herself to give a condolence, only can focus on herself, and depresses you more.
You decide to order pizza.
You return home after the holidays, feeling more depressed than ever, and settle into a routine of going to the YMCA with Very Fertile Friend and just being a good mom to your one kid.

A few months pass, and you and your husband go out for breakfast at your favorite place…..when you walk in the door, you immediately feel sick…the smell of breakfast meats is too much, and you KNOW.
Before you even pee on the stick, you KNOW.
It is positive.
You are scared out of your mind.
You eat the best you can, and do everything right and pray every day that nothing will happen THIS ONE TIME!

Then your husband decides to move your family.
So you pack up the house, being careful not to lift anything heavy.
You get moved and settled, and crave KFC mashed potatoes, and you gain 35 pounds.
Your dreams finally come true and you give birth via c/s to your Miracle Baby.
Life is good once again.
And you spend your days gazing at your new baby girl and taking 48 photos of her every day.
You do not eat well, because you are so enthralled with your son holding the new baby, and with capturing every moment on your crappy digital camera.

Then you buy a home.
And the stress the comes with that makes you eat.
Plus you snack with your 2 perfect children.
Finally the house is closed, and it is YOURS!
You must then “christen” it, so you and your hubby make love in every room.

A few weeks later, you get that familiar sick feeling when you are out for a drive, and Gatorade makes you want to hurl.
You gain another 35 pounds while pregnant and give birth to your 2nd son, who is absolutely adorable, and your biggest son and your daughter are in love too.
You sit with them alot and have snacks and watch cartoons.
Life is PERFECT again.
You feel fulfilled as a mother, even tho you are very fat.

Months go by, a year…..and you realize that once again you feel that familiar sickness, and you KNOW…..you panic a little—FOUR CHILDREN!??!
Oh my.
Then you laugh, and feel that God is blessing you for your faithfulness to Him during those long years of secondary infertility.
You tell your husband, he is overjoyed and you celebrate by going out to dinner.
You give birth to your LAST BABY, get your tubes tied, and feel good about it.

All along, there has always been the excuse of small children and breastfeeding to avoid exercise or eating right….and you’ve gained another 20 pounds.
But you are SO DAMN HAPPY to have four LIVING children, that you just cannot be made to care.

Until Skinny Friend has to make you feel like you are LESS THAN.
Why can’t I be fat AND happy???.

Is that not allowed??
In my world it is.
In my world, it’s about accepting people where they are, who they are, what they are.
We all have issues, some just aren’t as obvious as a fat belly.

Why can’t we just treat people like we want to be treated??
I respect my other skinny friend’s need to not eat a lot, or she gets ill.
I don’t belittle her in front of everyone for “eating 3 bites and being full”
I just share my burger with her.
That way, I eat less, and she doesn’t waste over 1/2 a burger.
It works for us.

I don’t know……it’s just so hurtful, and to the point where I just wish SHE would get fat, so she could understand.

Stephanie and her husband have been married 15 years and she is a stay at home mom to four wonderful children on earth and two waiting for her in heaven.  She is also one of the best and most understanding friends a girl could ask for- easy to talk to, and always there for you.  I have been so blessed to have her in my life through good times and bad.  Stephanie blogs privately but I convinced her to let me share this post, because I couldn’t have written it better.  Maybe someday she’ll come to the dark side and go public- but then I would have to share her…