Thursday, June 13, 2013
We have a small convenience store close to our home. It has a drive through window. It exists for those moments when you are about a quarter inch short of butter, the last egg falls on the floor or that mysterious “Not Me,” drinks the last of the milk and puts the container back in the fridge – Empty. Joan had a food day at work and she was trying something new and realized there wasn’t going to be enough milk. That’s why God created drive through windows at convenience stores. Our drive through window is about a foot thick and you communicate with the attendant via microphone. You pay first and they give you your purchase with your change. What can I say? It’s a commentary on the world we live in. I asked for ½ gallon of skim milk, paid for it and waited. They had forgotten to turn off the microphone.
“Okay who gets the milk,” Said one to the other
“The whale in the white tee shirt,” She giggled.
It’s then they realized the microphone was in the “on” position. Talk about your awkward moments.
I’ve have always been very honest about how I feel when I blog. Sometimes it’s painful but I believe it may help someone else who thinks “Gee, I’m not the only one who feels this way.”
I’m glad I was alone in the car driving home because I was beyond embarrassed. I even shed a tear, bit my lip and had that feeling inside that hurt so bad you felt it in your bones. I went upstairs in the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror and thought “My God, you ARE huge!!!” This is where I started to unravel. I began to wonder if that’s the way the whole world saw me. I wondered if the people who said hello and smiled were really thinking “God what a lard butt!!!” or “Man he’s fat.” I was crushed. This short, fifteen second experience, had a devastating effect on me and by the way no man, no matter how old or how married he is, was, or will be ever takes great joy in a woman calling him a "whale.” Our dirty little secret as men is that our egos are more fragile than we’ll let on.
Maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you’ve felt that pain that comes with being ridiculed because of your girth and size. Lovely feeling isn’t it? Maybe, if you are an emotional eater, as I am, you run for your comfort food of choice and salve your wounds with it. All your progress goes sliding down the mountain.
A few days back someone commented on my blog about “name calling.” They said “While you make a very good point, I kept waiting for this blog to tie into Fitness, which is the directive of Spark and presumably the reason we are all here.”
I wrote back to this Sparker and told them I understood where they were coming from and I appreciated the insight but I felt that health, fitness and all those other cool things were part and parcel of one another. Unless we are balanced in how we approach things we are never going to reach a bona fide healthy life. I told them their insight they’d given me the inspiration for this blog.
Words hurt. Words can cut as deeply as any blade and eviscerate us to the point that we often give up trying. Those words, those names, whether they are racial, ethnic, political, deal with sexual orientation, or our physical appearance and weight can be as deadly as a bullet.
Somewhere in each spiritual discipline and tradition is the exhortation to set all other things aside and love. I lose sight of that. Instead of hurling names and epitaphs maybe I concentrate on the oft difficult task of loving.
I can think of anything more healthy and nurturing.