Another repost:

Thursday night we ordered wood-fired pizza from our favorite local spot.

My husband (whose permission I have to tell this story) crisps the crust in our cast iron pan while I whip up a salad.

We have this meal down to a science.

We sat down to watch Netflix and enjoy our meal.

Soon, there was only one piece of pizza left.

My husband turned to me and said: "Do you ever feel like you don't get your fair share of the pizza?"

I looked over at him, curious. "What do you mean?" I said. "Do you feel like I ate more than I should have?"

Grinning at me, he said, "Yea. Yea I do!"

I think he expected me to laugh and apologize.

Instead I said, "Well go crisp up some more, friend! You know how to do it! Don't shame me about eating delicious pizza! We still have an entire pie in the kitchen."

I was dead serious and angry.

He knew what I had been reading and writing about. He knew what my deepest struggles are around food and weight and eating and such.

And yet, there it was: The assumption that the "little lady" should eat less than the man.

I was HUNGRY. And I had eaten until I was full.

It was fantastic and so satisfying and delicious and delightful. I was thoroughly enjoying my meal!

After I cooled down a bit we talked about this interaction. We are even laughing about it now. It will become a running joke between us.

Here's the moral of this story:

In order to succesfully pull a weed, you gotta' make sure you get the root.

The roots of female beauty sickness are deep.

They are a part of ALL of us, men and women. And they are everywhere.

In every interaction, it seems.

Even in the simple act of eating pizza with your favorite person on a Thursday night.