I never thought of myself as gaunt until a guy I was interested in asked me if I had an eating disorder. "No," I answered more as a question than a statement. I knew I was thin (a.k.a. -- scrawny), but sickly never crossed my mind. "What nerve," I thought. I would never ask him if his robust 190-pound frame were due to eating a small child for breakfast, why should he inquire about my eating habits? I got to thinking about body image and what it means to each gender. A thin man is weak, but a thin woman is sexy and a muscular man is hunky, but a muscular chick is freaky and heaven forbid either should be hefty. How have we come to the point where being a hottie is more important than being healthy? When did topics such as diets and diuretics become choice dinner conversations? When did our bodies stop being our own and start becoming public property?
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