Monday, June 25, 2012

Sticks and Stones...

On Saturday afternoon after a very long, hot walk and wonderful brunch with a few girlfriends, I headed up to Fancy Town (aka anywhere uptown between Park and Madison) to help take care of two children under five.  We walked over to the park to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air.  We spent the next two hours chasing two children around a playground praying to everything Holy that no one broke any bones.  I was sweaty and exhausted when we returned to the apartment to feed and bathe the kids.  Up until this point I was pretty sure I was doing a great job.  The kids seemed to like me or at least not dislike me.  As we're feeding them dinner the four year-old pokes me in the stomach and says, "you're fat." 

I stood there stunned as my friend came to my rescue and began to explain that calling someone fat wasn't nice, etc.  I know she's a child and I shouldn't take it personally.  I know all of this.  But, that was the second time I was called fat within the week.  Once by a pissed off online dater and now by an innocent child.  So what gives?  I can handle the average asshole.  I deal with them all the time.  For some reason this whole notion of "fat" really gets under my skin.  Fast forward a few hours as I literally try on everything in my closet attempting to get ready for an evening out with some friends.  I must have changed five times.  I just could not get it together.  Whenever someone calls me fat it brings me back to being twelve and having a crush on a boy who said I was "really nice," but not pretty.  Or being 23 standing in my first NYC apartment and watching a boy point to me and say "who is the fat one?"

And I hate that this word renders me so powerless.  I fight it the best I can, but what I really needed to do was have a good cry and that I did.  Last night I decided it was okay to be upset about these comments and I didn't need to laugh them off.  Accepting how I felt was the only I was going to move past it.  I debated even writing about it here because I hate to complain.  Well, that's not exactly true, but you know what I mean.  Wow, I feel better already.

Oh and yesterday, me and The Jens fled the city to enjoy a day of relaxation in my parent's pool.  HELLO SUMMER.


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