I am grateful that I was born too soon for the Fat Acceptance movement. If I hadn’t been, I’d now be dead. Memory: My mother, preparing for a bridge party, had made something called a Stained Glass Cake. It consisted of multiple Jello flavors, heaped together to create an abstract stained-glass pattern in Cherry Red, Lemon Yellow, and Lime Green, interlaced with whipped cream, on a graham-cracker crust. …