Friday, June 29, 2012
Let me begin with this: Perhaps I'm insecure. It's possible. Perhaps I'm suffering from the time-of-the-month side effects. Also possible. Regardless of the cause, I know what the effect was ---
Yesterday, I felt ugly for the first time in a while.
I was wearing my most flattering pair of jeans. I was also wearing one of my least flattering shirts. I could wear a t-shirt from college and look better than I did in this shirt. I have a very small chest and wide hips (in relation), so the shirt is very baggy up top and very tight on the bottom. You could definitely see my muffin top.
I was also sweating like I haven't sweat in ages. It was unusually hot outside yesterday, and although I welcome the warm weather, I was ill-prepared for it. All of this was fine -- I could deal with it -- as long as no one saw me for any length of time. Yes, I went out walking twice pushing the largest stroller known to man (I was babysitting). But when I walk, I walk quickly enough for no one to notice me.
I'm good friends with the parents of the 1-year-old whom I was babysitting. They are awesome people. The dad is really funny, and great to get along with. He came home first, and about a half hour earlier than I expected anyone there. That's all well and good. I was hoping that I could just talk for a little while then leave. I was visibly sweating, there was no breeze, and I looked like a hot mess.
He said we needed to wait until his wife got home, because she was getting the money out of the ATM to pay me. Honestly, I don't need to be paid by these people. I love spending time with their little girl -- speaking English with her, singing to her, teaching her to walk, etc.). But they insist.
None of this is relevant yet, and for that, I apologize, but I wanted to set up the scene. Twenty to thirty minutes after the dad gets home, the mother returns. (Disclaimer -- She is an awesome person, very sweet, incredibly intelligent, etc. I don't want my negative feelings to be attributed to her personally in any way. My feelings are my own, and she has no control over them).
The mother came in, dressed very well in clothes that FIT. She is very slim, even after having a baby. I don't think she gained an ounce during that pregnancy.
The father eventually got onto the subject of his wife feeling like she has fat she wants to get rid of. Don't we all? However, at no point in my life have I ever been as thin as this woman. She's healthy, but very slim. She concurred with her husband, and said she had fat on her hips that she wanted to lose. I was astonished. I explained that I'm much bigger than she is, and noticeably so.
It's a little painful to recount everything, so I won't. Due to the difference in cultures, what they said was entirely appropriate here, but would be considered rude in America. I understand both cultures, so I wasn't as offended as I could have been.
Honestly, I wasn't offended at all. I was just sad. I was sad that this woman feels fat (she's my height, but so tiny!). I was sad that she could wear such simple clothes and look exquisite. I'm sad that after having a baby, she's tinier than I have ever been in my life. I'm sad that she works from 7am to 7pm and still eats and exercises better than I do -- someone who works from home and has nearly unlimited amounts of time and resources to live a healthy life.
Is it me? Am I just failing at what I set out to do?
I honestly haven't felt so disgusting in a very long time.
Today, I feel a little bit better, but I'm still depressed. I ate a much smaller portion than usual yesterday. My fiancÚ cooked supper, but by that point, I was so distraught (seriously) that I didn't care what he made. I was in depressed-eating mode. I had the pasta carbonara and tried to put the day out of my mind.
Today, I resolved to get back on track. I have been exercising pretty regularly lately. I really enjoy my walks now, and am trying to get back into cycling as well (though it's really difficult).
But the pain of yesterday still stings. I felt so hideous...just hideous.
And that's a feeling I never want to have again.