The Next Stage

Shaindy Fried, 27 years old, 5’3″, 160 pounds. Those numbers said everything you needed to know about me

Iheld the needle to my upper arm and closed my eyes. “May it be Your Will, Hashem, that this activity bring healing to me, for You are the true Healer. And please let me find my zivug soon.” I took a deep breath, and then quickly pushed down on the needle. I held the dose button and slowly counted to six, per the instructions. A burst of pain, a drop of blood pooling on the skin, and it was over. Until tomorrow when I would go through it all over again.

I’m Shaindy Fried*, 27 years old, 5ˇ3ˇˇ, 160 pounds. The real Shaindy Fried was so much more than those numbers. I was smart. I was pretty. I was a great friend. I had a good education. A lucrative job. I loved traveling and meeting new people. But those numbers defined me — at this stage in my life, it was all anyone needed to know about me.

The very first time I realized I was overweight I was nine years old at the pediatrician’s office. As I stepped on the scale, the doctor turned to my mother and said, “What are you feeding her?” It sounded as if she were talking about an animal in the zoo. That insensitive comment stayed with me my whole life. My parents had never mentioned my weight to me, and I had a lot of friends at school; no one had ever said a mean word to me about my size.

After that appointment, my mother tried to replace the snacks in our house with fruits and vegetables, but I always managed to find the good stuff, whether at friends’ houses or at my Bubby and Zeidy who lived down the block. Bubby and Zeidy told me I was just perfect. In their view, heaving a little meat on you was good. It was being too skinny that was unhealthy.