Girl, you do you.........

Today at work I visited the ladies' room and I took a look at my hair in the mirror. I didn't love it. I have a love/hate relationship with my hair anyway (who doesn't?) but for some reason, I was reminded of a situation in high school regarding my hair, and how other people's "off-hand" comments can stick with us for decades.

My mom had paid for a "good" hairdresser to do my hair. Not sure what constituted "good" except that it was at a salon that seemed a little more "exclusive" than others. And by that I mean, it had a nice waiting area. And copies of Playgirl on the tables. Not kidding. It was the first time I'd ever seen an uncircumcised penis (and the only other penises I'd seen belonged to babies and toddlers who's diapers I'd changed while babysitting). I was mildly shocked at a pornographic magazine being tossed in with the ladies' magazines and hairstyle books, but I laughed it off as only an awkward teenager could.

When it came my turn to see David (see? I still remember his name), he asked me what I was looking for in a hairstyle. I've had very curly hair since adolescence so up to that point, I'd never had anyone who could cut my hair well. I was really hoping for a miracle from David. But when he described his idea for how to transform my hair, all I remember is him saying "And we should get rid of this," (grabbing my mass of hair at the back of my head), "It looks like you're a truck hauling a trailer."

Fuck you, David.

I don't remember if I liked my haircut (probably not) but I do remember that comment. Forever and a day I will remember that comment.

Another time, my mom walked past me in my kitchen, where I was at the sink washing dishes. I think my oldest daughter was a toddler at the time, so while I was not in the best shape I'd ever been, I was certainly in better shape than I am now. Offhandedly, my mom said "Boy, you sure have fat calves!" Now, clearly I was aware that my calves were not lithe and lean. In fact, though I was a tiny kid, I was always a bit stocky, sturdy, and never willowy. But from that day on, I was more than aware of my "fat calves" though I had barely given them a notice before.

Thanks, mom.

Years later, a friend commented on my "unfortunate weight gain." Her choice of words - unfortunate - making it sound like a cancer diagnosis or tragic car accident - always stuck with me. Who was she to say my shift in weight was unfortunate? I certainly didn't feel unfortunate. In fact, I was quite happy with my life at the time. My weight, while not ideal, was not at the forefront of my mind all day. But, clearly, it had been bothering HER enough to comment.

Screw you, "friend."

It's true that people remember how you made them feel. I'm certain I've said something to someone at some point in my life that mirrored the situations above. Perhaps someone remembers me by the way I made them feel, and it's not in a good way.

I see my own kids and their peers lamenting their weight, looks, intelligence, athletic ability, amount of friends, popularity, and status. I keenly remember my own mother saying "Who cares what anyone else thinks?" But we DO care. We hold on to words, feelings and situations that make us feel inadequate. As we grow older, we learn to set those things aside in favor of focusing our ever-decreasing energy on the things we hold dear. But they never really leave us. Words can shape a relationship.

The other day we were watching an old home video. It was Easter and my two oldest girls were hunting for eggs. My ex-husband was doing the videotaping and while his face can't be seen, his voice can be heard. At one point, exasperated with my younger daughter's inability to find eggs that he can clearly see, he says her name, "Hannah." But the tone of his voice is what makes the video hard for my daughter to watch. She knows that tone - that irritation, that disappointment. Even as an adult herself now, it's hard for her to watch that video and hear her dad's "mean" voice.

During my first marriage, my now ex-husband used to get very angry, often for no discernible reason. We would argue and he would shake his head at me with a slight laugh and say "You're unbelievable." Two simple words that meant a lot more. I heard his disappointment, his anger, his disgust with me. To this day, I still get pissed off when I hear the EMF song "You're Unbelievable." The song praises the object of the singer's desire. But to me, it was completely the opposite.

I shudder to think of the words I've used as weapons. Never have I wanted to intentionally hurt someone with my words, but I know I have. Knowing, as I do, the way words can stick with a person; knowing that words, once spoken, can never be taken back. And "I'm sorry" is just a phrase with no meaning.

Be careful with your words. They mean more than you'll ever know.

Is there really any other way to take it?

Jeff was just going through his mail on his desk and said (looking at a magazine) "Oh, look here's an article about obesity drugs! Do you want to read it and learn something?" I mean, really? How else should I have taken that (how did I take it you may ask? By being offended and hurt because 1. I know I'm overweight, and 2. He's usually much more supportive than that)? He said "you took it the wrong way" but I'm not seeing any other way to take that. I guess it's time to look into bulimia or perhaps a nice bout of anorexia would suit me? Geesh, he's not exactly going to make the cover of Men's Health anytime soon. I recently read an article that said overweight women have more sex. And I'm thinking, really? And why? Maybe because they already know they are overweight so they just focus on being themselves instead of obsessing over every cellulite dimple? And those guys who always say "Oh, sure she's gained a few pounds, but I don't pay attention to that - I love my wife no matter what she weighs." Really? Do they? Maybe, but is it like you love your grandma even though she has an ample butt and wears flour sack frocks over her lumps and bumps? Or do they really love their wives in a husbandly kind of way, as in, my wife is someone I'm proud to be with? I have gained a lot of weight over the past three years, partly due to poor eating and exercise habits and the emotional eating wrought by a painful divorce, but mostly due to antianxiety medication that caused me to pile on the pounds, even though I was stepping up my exercise and eating healthier. Am I doing everything I can to lose weight? No. I'm not on a diet program, I visit Starbucks a couple times a week and indulge in a pastry, sometimes I eat more than one chocolate chip cookie. But I try to exercise regularly and I know I need to lose weight and I'm trying. It's not easy, as anyone who has tried to lose weight knows. It's a struggle, made even harder by bad genes (my whole family is overweight!) Seems everywhere you turn, everyone is trying to lose a few (or many) pounds, and it's hard! I WANT to be fit and healthy, and at a nice weight where my clothes fit comfortably. I'm not obsessed with being a certain weight or a certain size. I just want to feel strong and healthy. And most of the time I do. But what I don't need is a reminder from my husband that I'm fat. Or pressure to take drugs or have surgery to remedy that situation. Geesh..........

Insult back-up!

While Jeff is away, he must have put Harrison in charge of insulting me. He's doing a pretty good job of it. Yesterday he was giving me a "back massage". While he karate-chopped his way down my back, he said "time for the glutes" and proceeded to karate-chop my butt. He stopped and said "Wow! Your butt really jiggles! It's like a bouncy house!" Then he suggested I put a sign on my butt that said "Caution! Oversize load! Do Not Pass!"

Today I was having trouble clasping my necklace. Harrison said "Oh, you should get this thing I saw on TV. It's magnetic and it helps old people put their jewelry on!" Nice. Love that boy!

Bastard times two!

So, later this evening I was trying to get something off the shelf in the laundry room and it dropped on my head. My cries of despair were met with laughing from my lovely children.......but my wonderful husband came to see if I was injured! He asked "what happened?" and I said "I dropped something on my head" to which he replied "well, I guess it's times like these you're happy you have all that hair!" A$$hole!

Twice Insulted - Before 8 a.m.!

So, this morning someone knocked on our bedroom door (duh, it was obviously Arlie, the other three just barge in). Jeff said "what do you want?" and Arlie said "Is Mary-Leah in there?" Jeff said "Yes!" Arlie asked "Is she decent?" I was not even dressed yet, so Jeff said "No". Arlie then asked "How long till she's decent?" and Jeff took a good look at my (naked) self and said "Oh, a LONG time.......". Bastard! Then, he said "You can come in if you want to see Mary-Leah naked" to which Arlie replied "No thanks". Geesh. I feel so loved.