I stumbled into Fat Acceptance around the same time that I was diagnosed as having Asperger's. The two don't go hand in hand, but they do serve as the filter through which I view the world at the moment. Asperger's does not define me, but it sure does explain me. My fat does not define me either, but it is the first thing you see when we meet.
There are so many people who have written much more eloquently than I about both subjects, so the logical question from you (if *you* exist, dear reader) is what am I doing writing? The thoughts in my head need to get put down somewhere. I highly doubt at the moment that anyone will read this, so I have the benefit of a journal with the fantasy/illusion of being a writer.
I have been fat my whole life. I don't remember a time when I was not fat. I have gone through stages with my fat - hatred, ambivalence, dislike, and now, slowly, acceptance. The things written by others in the fat world have helped me on that journey towards acceptance. To those writers, I am grateful.
To define fat acceptance from my point of view - it is not giving up on my body or my health. Health and fat are not mutually exclusive - as best written here (I hope it's OK that I linked to you, Ms. Harding - you're wonderful!). To say I accept my fat and my body does not mean I am giving up on either. Fat acceptance does not mean sitting around on the couch a la Goldie Hawn in Death Becomes Her - although if you do, that's OK too.
Fat Acceptance to me means eating healthy TASTY food until I am satisfied, and moving my body because it feels good to do so. I refuse to starve myself to meet someone else's ideal. And God didn't intend for exercise to be a chore. So when it becomes "working out" - I'll take a break.
What I've said today is nothing new, but let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start.