The one where we talk less about weight and more about self-confidence

Hello bloggy peeps! Remember me? Yeah, I don’t blame you at all. I have been seriously neglectful of this blog and since it’s the very thing that got me so far to begin with that is truly unforgivable. But I think I’ve kicked the case of “bloggy blues” that I seem to have been suffering with lately. (And it wasn’t just me. Did you notice how many other bloggers seemed to have struggling lately? Must have been some sort of weird co-alignment of the planets). But I’m back and hopefully to stay this time.

Now, normally you know I don’t do a lot of reactionary pieces. I respect everyone’s right to have an opinion that differs from mine and don’t find a lot of fulfillment in arguing just for the sake of argument. But I feel I must speak up this time. If you’ve been on the webs at all in the last week, you’ve heard about the horrible blog at Marie Claire bashing fat people. It’s gotten a lot of attention and evoked horror from most people. I was content to ignore it. People are dumb, right? Then I read it. And while the author did say some insensitive things, I don't think she truly meant to hurt people. (But you totally spelled "heroin" wrong, sweetie. There's no "e" on the end of the drug). But then I happened to have my attention called to another blogger’s response to the article. I know she was trying to be helpful, but her blog was almost as bad. She says that the times in her life when she’s been fat, she felt invisible. That most people ignore fat people. Girl, you could not be more wrong!

First, I don’t think anyone who claims to have been overweight for roughly three years out of her life knows much about being fat. And the author completely fesses up that at these times in her life she’s been miserable, hating her own body and desperately wanting to change. So of course when she goes out into the world, armed with her horrible self-image and expecting to be treated poorly, she seems invisible. That has more to do with attitude than extra weight.

Let’s get this straight. I am a big girl. I’m not morbidly obese, but I’m no one’s idea of thin. I have been thinner in the past. High school, after my first baby, after my second baby. Oh don’t get me wrong; I was never a skin and bones girl. I was curvy. And always, I had to be careful to maintain that weight. I had to get plenty of exercise and say “no” to desert. Then I got pregnant with my third child and 17 years later I still haven’t lost all that baby weight. Oh here and there I lose a few pounds, then I find them again, and so on. But I am far from miserable in my skin.

I don’t binge eat. I don’t hideout and scarf food where no one can see me. I cook healthy. I don’t fry foods and I don’t eat them if I can avoid it (except for the occasional greasy cheesy goodness from McDs). My blood pressure is good. My cholesterol is low and my heart is healthy. I do not have diabetes or any other weight related health issues. I would like to lose a few pounds but mostly that’s because I’ve been forced into inactivity lately by circumstance and feel better when I can get outside and hike or stay in and play Wii. So I’m heavy, but relatively healthy.

But here’s the thing. I am not invisible. No one treats me badly because of my size. Men still hold doors for me, I still get flirted with and I still feel sexy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those “fat is sexy” girls who run around in body revealing clothing. I wear age appropriate classic clothing most of the time. (sometimes I splurge on something silly but that’s just my fruit loopness coming out). I feel sexy because I’m self-confident. It has nothing to do with the way I look and everything to do with my personality. People smile at me because I smile at them. I meet their eyes and I don’t look away. I’m friendly and positive. I don’t hide. Want an example? I was at Wal-Mart the other evening and I left Mike and Sean in the hunting department to head over to pick up orange juice. As I walked down the aisle, I saw a guy stocking and he turned, smiled at me and said:

Him: Didn’t you used to work at Waldenbooks?

Me: Yes.

Him: I worked at the calendar store one year.

Me: (I really don’t remember him, but I don’t want to be rude) Oh yeah! Hey! How’re you doing?

Him: Great. Wow. It’s really good to see you!

Me: You too. Take care.

And I strolled on, apparently quite visible. The topper? It was the day I’d been in the ER, so my hair was slightly messy; I was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, obviously completely un-ravishing. But it was probably my personality that he remembered not my beauty.

And now, lets talk about that dirty little secret that no one ever talks about. Skinny doesn’t equal self-confidence. I know just as many skinny girls who are miserable in their own skins as heavy girls. In fact, sometimes I wonder if skinny girls aren’t even more insecure. Skinny girls feel like everyone judges them on their appearance instead of getting to know them. I know because my sister is a stick. Seriously. Like they divided the fat genes in my family 90/10 and I got the 90. Does it mean she’s uber self-confident? Hell no! Does it mean she’s healthier? No. She complains about just as much joint pain as I do, she just won’t go to the doctor and do something about it. My daughter? Size zero. Self-confident? Not as much as I would like. And constantly worried about gaining a pound.

I have skinny friends and I have friends who are way larger than I. So here’s the point. Be you. And be happy being you. You can choose to worry about your size, hair color, height, boob size or weight. Or you can choose not to worry. The choice is yours. Not everyone who’s fat is gross and not everyone who’s skinny is hott. So why don’t we stop discriminating? Why don’t we stop beating each other up over it? Why don’t we learn to base self worth on personality, kindness and accomplishment? Why?

Bottom line: I do not want to see two fat people having sex. I do not want to see two super skinny people having sex. Personally, I don’t want to see anyone having sex. But if I were forced to, I would prefer it were two healthy people, regardless of a few extra pounds more or less. So if fat people gross you out, close your damn eyes and don’t watch.

Be you. Be happy. And don’t let anyone (ever) make you feel bad about it. Regardless of your outer shell, you have what it takes to shine.

Sorry for the length peeps, but if you made it through, you deserve a snack. A snack of your choice-a be it healthy or chocolate.

♥Spot

Let your freak flag fly...

So, things have been interesting at my house lately. I know. Things are always interesting at my house. So you can imagine what it's been like lately. The cause of all this um...interestingness? Me. Yep. This time I'm the culprit. And all because I want to be me again.

See life is a funny thing. You start out one way then something happens and you end up walking in a different direction. Then a tree falls in the road and you have to detour. Everyone always talks about the path they're on like it's some kind of straight shot. Well if you got the easy straight path...good for you. Personally? My path has had more twists than a spiral staircase. And you change and adapt to fit the new country you're walking through.

I've had so many roles in the last twenty years. Young (oh god, like baby young) wife, young mother, support group coordinator, advocate, lobbyist, mentor, lecturer, full time mom, daycare provider, homeschool teacher, chief cook & bottle washer, housekeeper, laundry fairy, best friend, biggest fan, country girl (and that took some getting used to!), partner, helpmate, secretary, mingler, home redecorator, sister, daughter, mother, love, friend. Whew! The list goes on. And so many of those roles were all at the same time. I remember in the early years wondering who I was that day? It was overwhelming trying to be everything to everyone. And somewhere along the way, I lost the girl inside.

I won't go through the journey I took to stop being such a people pleaser and start being me again. It was long and arduous and involves a brief drop into a very dark hole. But in the end, I won. I found my "me" again. It's been about ten years since we reconnected. And in those ten years I've played a bunch of different roles, but they never took over again. I was still "me" while doing those things too. (I'm not sure if this is making sense to anyone but me) Everything I did was done with my personality. I was the same person, regardless of the situation. Meeting at CJ's school? Me. Working at the bookstore? Me. Dinner for Hubby's work? Me. All me all the time. You either like me, or you don't. I won't change to suit you.

My friend J says that I have the most self esteem of any person she knows. This is probably quite true. I worked hard for it though. But then I came to terms with myself and if I like "me", then that's all that counts. It doesn't mean that I don't want other people to like me, I do! But if they don't? Well that's ok too. I'm not going to keep trying to win them over like I would've before. And that sense of self esteem goes for everything. Looks, intelligence, talent, skills.

I've tried to teach my kids self esteem, but I'm not sure it can be taught. I think it has to come from an agreement within yourself. My daughter is beautiful, smart, funny and talented. Her self esteem though falls somewhere in the middle. She doesn't think she's beautiful or smart. She won't leave the house without looking like a million bucks. Unless she's very sick. She feels like everyone grades her appearance. And no matter how I try I can't seem to get her past that. The hippie is working on it as well and there has been progress. She asks me how I can not think about my appearance? And I tell her. I get ready, maybe I change a few times, but finally I look in the mirror and think "well, that's the best it's gonna get". And that's the last time I think about it. Why spend more time worrying about it? And why the heck would you care what other people thought? I want people to like me for me. My wit, my sarcasm, my complete ridiculousness. My smile. Not my fashion sense. Not my hairstyle. I dress to please me. To convey my "me-ness", not to reflect my conformity.

And maybe that's the crux of the thing. I'm an individual. I don't care to fit in. I'm not really rebelling. I just don't care to conform. I dress in clothes that I like, whether they're "in" or "out". Sometimes I like what's in fashion and I wear it. Other times I like what used to be in fashion. So I wear that. I mean, within reason. There are limits. I wouldn't wear jeans to a dressy event. But I might wear a purple dress and an armful of bangles. But nothing too outlandish. The roles still had to be somewhat respected.

So the problem? I'm finally free of most of the roles. I'm still a daughter, sister, wife, mother, friend. Those will never change. But I work from home now. The kids are almost grown. And over the last year, I've realized that life is too short to worry about what others think anyway. So I've started making even more changes in appearance that reflect my personality. It started with a pair of purple sneakers. Then it moved on to some rather loud shirts. And one that Sean dubbed "the hippie grandma shirt". I adore that shirt. Then it was shopping in Myrtle Beach, where I loved the funky stores and my children went into Aeoropostle. "Really?" I asked. "Aeropostle? You want to look like everyone else?". They saw nothing wrong with that. Sometimes I wonder if they're really mine at all.

I mean, they have their small individualities. Lu has four tattoos, a nose piercing, 4 ear lobe piercings, a cartilage piercing, an ear tab piercing, and an industrial. But all of those can be easily covered. She absolutely will not do anything weird with her hair. And Sean? Well except for the tattoo on his wrist he's very straight with his appearance. No piercings. Preppy clothes. Decent haircut. Lol.

Sean asked if I was having a midlife crisis. I informed him that A) I planned on living past 80, therefore I was not midlife and B) nope. I've always been weird. Just subdued it for a time. We finally had to ask hubby for back up. He assured Sean that I had always been unique and that was what he fell in love with. When we met I had a funny accent and a different way of looking at everything. That I had streaks of blue through my hair and wore combat boots with my bubble skirts. And he'd never met anyone like me.

So I got my nose pierced last week. It's funny. I've wanted to for a long time but just hadn't done it yet. Now that I have, Lu says it's like it's been there all the time. It just seems so me. I'm considering purple hair. For real. Hubby says go for it. And actually, both kids are behind it too. What do you think?

Last, I'll leave you with an illustration of today's points. We went to a movie while we were in Myrtle Beach. We saw "The Wolfman". The theatre was huge and packed. During the previews there was a funny preview and I laughed. Loudly.

Lu: Omigod. That was the loudest laugh ever. I'm pretty sure the whole theatre heard you!

Me: (giving her my surprised eyes and covering my mouth with my hand) oh no! What will people think?! (then I lowered my hand and rolled my eyes) oh. wait. that's right. I didn't care.

Lu rolled her eyes at me.

Me: It was funny!! Why would I care if these people thought I laughed too loud or didn't think it was funny? I don't even know anyone in this theatre and I'll probably never see them again. Wait!! Maybe someone in here reads my blog! Maybe I should stand up and shout "I'm Spot"! What if someone was like "omigod! Spot!"

Lu: Don't you dare!!

I didn't. But she kept eyeing me the whole time.

It's a world full of Cheerios. Be a Fruit-Loop. =]
♥Spot