This evening, I’m reviewing my writing samples for something suitable for yet another job interview. You all know the job I really want — can they just hire me already? But, as always, I digress.

Here’s an essay I submitted for publication — it was never published. The most astounding fact, the obesity rate in the United States has doubled since 1997 when I wrote this.

Can we eat?

Honestly, I m tired of people staring at my plate. Being a woman and eating in front of others is nothing if not difficult.

Last weekend, as I ate breakfast at a family gathering, I was disheartened and embarrassed to see all the women at our table watching my sister-in-law eat.

Of the six women at the table, she was the heaviest, but she s not obese. I don t know whether this makes other women feel bad or good, but she had more female eyes riveted on her and her plate of food than Tom Cruise.

We were spending the weekend at a Catskills resort and had all ordered a traditionally Jewish breakfast. We had bagels, cream cheese, lox, whitefish and other cultural favorites. As the men piled heaping servings of food on their plates, the women hesitated. We all just sipped our juice until I broke the unspoken barrier and reached for food. Then we each took a bagel and a small pat of cream cheese. My sister-in-law, however, ate her bagel with plenty of cheese, lox, and whitefish. Even so, her breakfast still paled next to that of our male companions.

I think women should enjoy eating, but when eating out with friends and family, it s almost impossible. It has become a contest to see who can order the smallest and blandest dinner and then leave the most on her plate.

In college, I ate with the same women every night. Our dinner changed from plates of chicken, potatoes, and dessert to spare meals where one friend would eat no more than an apple, only to be done under by another who nursed a half-cup of cottage cheese, and yet another who settled for plain yogurt. By then, I knew it was time to break away.

Instead of food, wine, and laughter, I watched the thin women among my family and friends order pasta without sauce or vegetables or butter, while the heavy women ordered hearty lasagne or fettuccine Alfredo much to the ususal horror of every other woman at the table.

If the heavy women order salad, the other diners smile on them as if to say, C mon, you must eat more than that, then encourage them to have dessert. If a thin woman orders real food, others look on in amazement at how she maintains her girlish figure.

I ve had the unfortunate experience of once ordering a large duck platter at dinner, eating the whole thing, and having someone actually say to me, I can t believe you ate the whole meal! It seems that eating, or at least the sight of a woman eating has become a crime.

I know we live in a weight and diet conscious society. But if 30% of Americans are obese and dieting is a multibillion dollar industry, table-side policing isn t working. Rather than a deprivation/binge lifestyle, I think the women among my family and friends should enjoy food and enjoy each other. I d like to sit at a restaurant or a dinner table and laugh over good food and wine rather than have a fat gram play-by-play, and have my calories counted for me. I wish I could invite women over for dinner and have them eat more than one chicken wing without proclaiming they re full.

I would like to talk about baking breads or cakes without my friends announcing ways to cut the fat grams in the process. Every food was not meant to have a low-fat substitute, and people aren t programmed to eat cake every day. The next time I attend a family dinner, I want the women to shun their food police roles, keep their eyes off each other s plates, and enjoy the pleasure of each other s company.

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