I object to her arrogant assumption that I need to have an excuse for the person I am. I don't owe her a damned thing--not an excuse, not an apology, not a justification for my life. She can go raise her pack of brats and stay the heck out of my business.

Great. Now, in a country where it is acceptable to discriminate against the sick (not legal, but, oh, so acceptable), I am officially sick. Even though my blood pressure, blood sugar, cholesterol, and any other condition that has been tied to weight are within normal range, I am sick.