Nothing. Zero. Zip.
That's what to say about someone else's weight: zilch. In their presence or away from it. Unless you are a health care professional, who is in this moment hired to advise on someone else's weight, there is nothing to say. Nada.
A friend once told me how she was so shy, she nearly didn't go to university. She said, at that time, that when she went to her local coffeeshop, the server would bark at her, "Hey, fat girl. Wanna coffee?" She'd nod and take her drink, not speaking because it wasn't okay to be the size she was.
When I met her, she was strong and lively. She ultimately lost a lot of weight. We didn't talk about why or how. She looked sick. And then she died.
In this part of the world; at this time of the year, in particular; people want to talk about their weight. How they think they are too fat, and they made a resolution. Or, how happy they are that they are the same size that they were last year. Much widely-distributed communication is about how we need to think about changing our size. In particular, to become smaller.
People get bigger; people get smaller. We observe. We don't know if it's due to physical illness, mental illness, physician-demanded weight change, healthy or unhealthy dieting, and so on.
And, it's none of our business.
But really, aren't there more interesting things to talk about? More interesting than size and weight? I want in on those conversations.
Because life, in all of its sizes, is beautiful. Isn't it?