I am tired of reading or seeing interviews about how Kate Winslet feels comfortable in her own skin. It incenses me. Winslet movie coming out? Great! Let’s talk pounds, shall we?

It’s not Kate that annoys me — it’s that the interviewers focus on it. Obsessively. Kate, you’re a beautiful woman who obviously has a very…healthy sense of beauty.

It’s why my mother called me last night, wondering when the memo was sent about how a size 12 qualifies as obese (Vanessa Minnillo, way to step up and get in a fat suit for “Entertainment Tonight.” Your experience as a size 12 with a bad makeup job was horrible. My heart breaks). Apparently my mother missed it.

Me? I got that memo and eventually had to throw it away. And that is precisely why the Winslet story focus bothers me so much. That message consumed a year of my life that I can’t get back.

I still deal with the aftermath. It’s hasn’t been an immediate issue for a long time, of course, and I’m sure that I’ll never again wander into a store and wonder why a size 0 is hanging loose off my body, but I continue to think of it. I have to. I analyze it in my mind, wonder where things diverted from a new focus on healthy living into beating Kate Bosworth and Nicole Richie to the punch. I still wonder if my perception of my mirror’s reflection is at all accurate. I know that it usually isn’t — and I occasionally have to force postive thoughts into my mind.

And then I see someone like Kate Winslet. Beautiful. Very slim — still a leading lady, of course, so not exactly Everywoman — but one of the least likely Hollywood women to embrace the protruding collarbone trend.

Yet every time a movie comes out featuring her Somewhat Normal self, she’s captured on paper or on digital video reassuring the world that it’s perfectly okay to look like her.

And I know that as I read or watch that, there are people saying it to themselves.

No, Kate. It’s not.

Knowing that is what makes me so angry.