I stray too often, but my goal on this blog is to share personal perspective, because foremostly, that's what I have to offer: I am a food addict, recovering from the obesity that resulted for my first 30 years. With 20 years on an altered path, I can share what both sides feel like, as well as the treatments, practices, and attitudes that allowed me to change.

As I finished up my recent post, "Hurt feelings vs. health indicators," I realized I'd strayed again. I felt that what I had to say was valid enough not to delete or heavily edit, but I also wanted to pick up the personal thread:

I was heavy almost from the beginning, and as it worsened — I was over 300 pounds by high school — my parents were appropriately concerned. I was probably 10 years old when I was put on my first diet; I went to weight-loss camp three years in a row; when an opportunity arose, they paid for treatment by Dr. Atkins, even though it included my shuttling from Boston to New York City for office visits.

Harking back to yesterday's post, my obesity was not regarded as a fashion issue, and my family did not shy away from addressing what was obviously a problem.

I have no specific recollection of it, but I'm sure that if my doctor had talked to me about it, I would have regarded even the most well-meaning approach as an attack, an intrusion, a criticism, as well as a statement of the obvious.

Could I have been reached? The only reliable answer is that I wasn't. Does my experience suggest what would have helped? In a word, no — I just said that I didn't have that experience!

But I can say that what was missing throughout was my buy-in. That first diet? I was supposed to drink eight glasses of water daily, keeping count by moving a toothpick from one side of the sink to the other, and I don't think I ever moved all eight.

The weight-loss camps? I lost more each summer than I had the previous one, but I gained it back soon after being freed from camp rigors.

And my experience well into adulthood is that until I wanted to change, nothing imposed was sustainable.

When parents or other loved ones ask me, "what can I do" for an overweight kid, that's the best I have to offer: Initiate a conversation from the "I," by which I mean, one is always justified to express one's own concerns, especially when the speaker has a guardian's role, especially when expressed in a loving way. But doing that every day would quickly be resented, no matter how responsible or loving the tack.

After broaching the subject, it's probably best to wait for an opening when the kid's pain is particularly sharp, and try again, still from the "I." "I see you hurting and I feel sad. I so want to help, and I have some ideas. Please let me know if you're ever interested to hear them."

It's a difficult line, expressing enough interest/concern to influence change while not expressing so much that it will entrench the problem deeper. But that starts the way out.