One of the phrases that keeps popping up in my line of sight lately is “Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.” It drives me crazy. I get the gist behind it, but I think the phrase as a whole is pretty flawed.

First of all, what is thin? I’ve lost 34 pounds since Spring, but I’ve got more to lose. Am I thin? On the way to thin? Do I want to spend my life measuring the savor of every single bite against the waistband of a particular set of jeans? My food journey has not included counting calories in any way, so I choose foods based on how my body reacts to them, not on fat grams.

Also, I have found that, in moments of stress or frustration (or depression, or anxiety…) plenty of other things can “taste” better than thin feels. We easily pick out alcoholism or compulsive gambling or even drug addiction as self-medication, but food is frankly a lot easier. We eat three meals a day anyway, so what if we add a few extra bites or desserts at a few of them? Does the dream of hoping to slide down a dress size satisfy the overwhelming distress of a bad relationship better than the second helping right in front of you? Of course the truth is, neither one can.

So my issue with the phrase is that it always seem to be deployed when someone is debating whether to eat a certain food, or eat at a certain moment. It puts thinness as an ultimate goal. It comes across as “If you dare put that in your mouth, you are weak-willed.” It doesn’t take into account choices. Maybe you opted to have less for breakfast so you could enjoy a guilt-free treat at lunch. Or maybe like for me, having seconds is virtually irrelevant because you’ve opted to choose only foods that burn the same or more fuel than they contain.

My choices have not been just about the items in my fridge, but a holistic change in my life. Still, do I want to wear a smaller size? Sure…some days. When I want the airline seat to feel even roomier, I’d love to be physically smaller. When my husband tells me how much he loves me, how attractive he finds me, and how proud he is of me, I couldn’t care less what size my tag says. When I feel how much healthier and free from dinner-plate angst I am now than I’ve been for most of my life, I know I’m already successful, but even still, one bad photo angle can knock my confidence flat in a hurry. Two friends of mine have recently posted dreadful accounts of unsolicited, totally hateful comments on their weight. By complete strangers! What kind of world have we created where it’s apparently freely acceptable to say anything to make sure people know their extra pounds are an offense to society (and the measure of their value)?

What I’d really love to see is a move away from “Thin is in” on one side and “Fat acceptance” on the other to just encouraging one another to be strong In convictions and compassion. I’ll be honest, I’m pretty excited about my lifestyle changes because they have worked amazing changes in me. And thanks to years of my own weight issues, I can’t help but notice the size and shape of women around me. It used to be in a miserable, losing comparison. Now, it’s with an extra compassion, knowing life is easier without the physical and emotional burden of excessive weight, but hoping that she knows she is enough; that it’s the heart that counts. While I do want to be stronger and leaner, it’s so I can better go about the work God has laid out for me. So, how about we ditch that old phrase, and substitute Proverbs 31:25-26 instead: “She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.” Strength and dignity have an amazing quality – they fit all shapes and sizes and taste better than anything on earth.