Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Sunday was Mother's Day, as well as my mother's birthday, and like any good child who lives far away, I called Mom to wish her a doubly happy day. It occurred to me during our conversation that my mom seems to like me being heavy. She's no different from most mothers in that she has always loved to feed me. Last Christmas vacation I went to visit my parents for three weeks, and I gained nine pounds (no joke). There is always food everywhere when I see them, and it's never healthy. I was raised that way, and that's part of the reason why by age 12 I was overweight.
My mom and I were talking about clothes on Sunday, and she said she was going to a great sale at Nordstrom and might buy me some nice clothes, since I'm looking for a good job. I told her that I was losing weight, and that I was between a size 8 and 10, definitely closer to a size 8. We got to talking about weight, body types, figures, etc., and she kept talking as if I was seriously overweight, even though I've never been more than somewhat above my healthy weight range. My mom is very heavy and always has been. She had gastric bypass surgery a few years ago and has lost about 100 lbs, although she is still overweight. I think that she is comfortable with me being her partner in heaviness. I lost a lot of weight very quickly when I was in high school (not by the healthiest means), and I think it made her nervous. As I slowly put weight back on, she seemed happier to take me clothes shopping, but it seems for the wrong reasons. Of course she's happy that I'm losing excess weight and striving towards a healthy lifestyle, but I can't help sensing that she enjoys having a daughter who is, like her, heavy.
I talked to Mom again last night, and she said she got me a nice suit for job interviews - size 10! I said, "Mom, I told you I'm losing weight. By the time I get the suit in the mail, I'll definitely be a size 8. I mean, I'm losing like 2 pounds a week." "Well," she said, "you never know." My mom loves me, and always wants the best for me, but her attitude was like a little packet of sabotage. There was just a hint of doubt in her voice, and that drove me crazy. I told her that I could get the clothes taken in, and (partially) joked that she won't recognize me when I come to visit her and my dad this Christmas.