Weight Watchers slogan for their new men’s product: “Eat like a man. Not like a rabbit.”

I saw this on the Washington Post website, next to a story about Michelle Obama’s initiative to stop childhood obesity. There was a picture of a big, manly grilled steak in the ad. So, on the one hand the First Lady is telling us to eat healthy and set a better example for our kids. On the other hand, the supposed weight loss experts are telling us we need a slab of red meat to feel manly. Isn’t the first lady growing rabbit food in her White House vegetable garden? Isn’t the meat part of the problem?

I’m confused.

I need some new pants. Got to head over to the mall and pick a few things out. Get a pair or two hemmed and I’m set. Right? Bullshit.

Right-sized folks don’t have to worry much about whether they can find clothes that fit both their body and budget. Their choices are pretty much limitless. Between the mall, a few high-end boutiques and even a discount store, the average normal-BMI-individual can pretty much put together a whole wardrobe. Not me.

I haven’t bought anything at a department store in years. High-end men’s shops? Forget it. Even the XXL shirts at the big-box discounters that target middle American waistlines don’t fit me.  There are three, maybe four places where I can buy clothes around Boston. Big and Tall stores. Ugh.

The name itself it cutting – Big and Tall, as in ‘Hey, bud, you don’t fit in (no pun intended), so you need your own special store.’ They hold me hostage with limited choices and crazy prices. Want a pair of Levi’s? $105. An off-the-rack, middling quality business suit? A grand-and-a-half.

The other choice is the internet. But if you buy something online, it still needs alterations. Most tailors don’t know that when they shorten pants for a fat guy, they need to taper the leg slightly to avoid a bell-bottom look. They also may need to lift the crotch a bit and maybe add a belt loop or two at the back, to stop the material from bunching. There’s no simple tailoring for a big man.

It doesn’t end there. You wear the new slacks out with friends and get a few compliments. Then the inevitable question – “Where are those from?” No malice intended, just genuine interest, because they are nice pants and the friends likes the material. Maybe he’d like a similar pair for himself. I never know how to answer.

Data recently released by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention says the obesity rate in the U.S. is leveling off. Sounds like a good thing, until you learn that 34% of adults in the country are obese, along with 17% of children. That’s a huge number of people who need to get dressed every morning – so why aren’t there more and better clothing stores for us?

The whole thing gives me agita.

I’m seeking out bariatric surgery to improve my life. I want to feel better and do more. I want to live longer and healthier, which is important not only to me, but to my family. I want to break the downward spiral of ongoing weight gain and falling self esteem.

But there is one more reason. I need to set a better example for my children. My daughter is in 3rd grade – the same age I was when my weight problems started. Sometimes I watch her eat and I see myself. She eats more than she should, and often when she’s not hungry. She gravitates toward processed carbs and junk over whole grains and vegetables. My wife is a trim, healthy eater who exercises regularly. Together we try to teach our daughter better habits. But I have no credibility. If I’m not living a healthy lifestyle, how can I possibly teach my daughter? And I fear that my son isn’t far behind, despite being just three-years-old and quite slim. As parents, we have always worked hard to be on the ‘same page.’ From one perspective, going ‘under the knife’ offers me the chance to become a better parent.

The desire to solve my weight issue is huge. I think about it every day. How would my life be different if I lost 100 pounds? How much easier would it be to find a new job? How much more could I accomplish if I felt better physically and emotionally? I’m committed to weight loss through bariatric surgery because at age 40 I’m quickly reaching a incontrovertible decision point – do this and live well, or don’t, and live a sickly and shortened life.

Still, I’m terrified.

The idea of my body being cut open and replumbed scares the living daylights out of me. What if there are complications? Anesthesia scares me. What if I don’t wake up? Change scares me. What kind of person will I be without this 100 pound truck tire around my middle? Inertia scares me. Sometimes it is easier to do nothing than it is to hit the brakes and turn around. What if I can’t stick to the prescribed diet and exercise program after the surgery? I’ve never been successful before, so why should this time be any different? I know some of my fears are unfounded and silly, but they are my fears nonetheless.

I’m lucky to be surrounded by a loving, strong family and many wonderful friends. My friend and Rabbi, Joel, says I owe it to myself – and to them –not to leave this life any earlier than I’m supposed to. My longtime therapist, Don, has offered similar comments many times over the years. I think they are both right. I know in my heart that the benefits of bariatric surgery and the weight loss that follows far outweigh the risks of the procedure, and of doing nothing. I have a great life – except for my obesity. It is time for me to leave that burden behind and live the rest of my days to the fullest.