Though my Dad always hoped for a son, he ended up with 3 girls...3 very different girls.

I was born first in 1949. Dad was in the US Navy during the World War II and met my Mom, while on shore leave in West Australia. My birth went terribly wrong; and Mom nearly died, because she delivered quickly and without a doctor present. Afterbirth was left inside her for days, before the hospital realized the problem. Mom was told that she would never be able to have another child.

Once Dad, Mom and I were in America, Mom found a surgeon who could help her to become pregnant and have another child. In 1951, Mom's miracle baby was born. She was named Debbie. This kid looked nothing like me. She even had blondish brown, wavy hair, while I looked more like an Apache Indian girl with my straight, black, cropped hair and bangs.

On my 10th birthday, Mom had the last of her 3 daughters...my sweet, little sister Delight. Yep. This one belonged to me. Dad even called her 'my birthday present'. I knew from the moment I saw her, Delight was going to be 'my real sister'. What a great, little terror she was. This was the tomboy who loved to dig in the dirt, who wasn't shy or prissy like Debbie.

In my mother's eyes, Debbie was the perfect daughter...thin, ladylike and completely attached to her Mommy. Delight was the free spirit, the fearless and outrageous one and later the 'troubled' daughter. My role was the older, studious, dependable, responsible but FAT daughter.

Each of us grew up completely different. I went to college, joined the Navy, had a child out of wedlock, an abortion, married badly, became a registered nurse and eventually assumed the responsibility of my mother's rose nursery, before she died.

Delight turned to drugs at age 12, had repeated problems with the law, ended up going to prison, lost a child during labor on her neighbor's front porch. She was on heroin at the time, and the neighbor would do nothing for her but call Mom. She arrived just in time to deliver that now dead grandchild. Delight was taken back to prison from the hospital. She ran from the law for a few years and ended up the victim of a serial killer. Her naked body was wrapped in a tarp and dumped in the desert.

Now, we come to Debbie...Mom's perfect child. She married 5 times, had 2 sons and remained Mom's pride and joy, until the day Mom died, leaving me the message "to look out for Debbie."

Do I love Debbie? Yes.

After Mom passed, we ended up living next door to each other; and we grew closer than we had in all of our younger years. She and I got to share time raising our sons together. She had matured, even putting on a little weight; and her hair got darker. We actually began to even look like sisters, though I remained 'the fat one'.

Debbie lives in South Dakota now, but we talk on the phone from time to time. Last night was one of those times. I called...just to talk. She told me about her job and how her boys were doing. I told her about our new home in Apple Valley, our new church and mentioned 'the bad news'. What bad news? The fact that I had lost some weight...53 pounds.

Yes, that was 'bad news' for my sister. She wanted to know my exact weight. When I told her that I am currently 218 pounds, she freaked out. "No! You're almost my weight! I have to go on a diet!"

You see...Debbie isn't supposed to be 'the fat one'. That has always been my role...my title in this family.

Oh, it is going to be a long time, before I catch up or even pass Debbie, if I ever do. She is only 185 pounds right now. Yes, I wanted to know her weight; and I asked her. It doesn't matter to Debbie that I am almost 40 pounds heavier than her. What matters is that the 'old rules' might not apply much longer. Her bigger, older, fatter sister was changing. There is a threat to her self-esteem, if I weigh less than her.

Does Debbie love me? Yes, but she cannot bear the idea of being 'bigger than Sue'...that me. "Sue was and IS supposed to always be the fat sister" in Debbie's world.

Sometimes, losing weight does affect 'the family balance', the roles and expectations of everyone in the family. Losing weight and getting healthy seems like something that everyone should celebrate within a family; but sometimes, that is not the case.

Would Debbie sabotage me, if she were here? No, but she would grieve, as I grew closer to putting her into my lifelong title of 'the fatter sister'. I didn't realize until yesterday that I was a threat to her ego.

Will this cause me to hesitate or slow down my efforts? No. Debbie will have to make up her own mind about what she wants to do. If she loses weight, I will praise her and support her....because I love her. I don't need to lose weight to beat my sister in some race to be 'the smaller one'. If I find myself weighing less than her, will I take some joy in that. No! I don't want her to feel bad. I will just ask God to help her sort it out and encourage her to do what is right for her.

As for me, I can only do what is right for me. I am not losing weight to become someone else. I am okay with the idea that I may always be 'the bigger sister'; but I don't want to wear the title of 'the fat one' in any family. I don't think that anyone should have to wear that title.

Here is a photo on the day that Mom became an American citizen. That is me on the left, Debbie on the right and Delight down in front Mom. I think that I was making 'that face', because I was looking into the sun.


Dad took this photo of his 3 girls in 1961. I know, because Mom bought me that dress for my 16th birthday party. (left to right) Debbie, me and Delight.