I have had, like most women, a lifelong preoccupation with my weight. My first published short story was a love story between an elderly man and a very young morbidity obese woman.

The world's waistlines are expanding, but it's an epidemic of a larger issue in terms of our bounty having become our burden.

When we talk about God, I think what most of us mean is some greater thing, some higher power that can help us access our own strength or give us strength.

I'm not alone in having obese people in my circle and in my family. I have loved morbidly obese people, and I don't approach obesity with revulsion or judgment but with empathy and compassion.

I hum some secret place into being, thinking of this other me, the one that only I can see, a girl called She, who is not We, a girl who I will never be.

If you don't like something about yourself, change it. If you're OK with it, you gotta own it. There's nothing in between.

What is it about sadness that can be so fulfilling?