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Great. I'm already hitting one of the subjects about which I don't really want to write. <sigh> Okay, here it goes. For decades (starting when I was about 13 and right up until I last spoke with her at age 36), my mother would say something to me on a fairly regular basis and it's something that has stuck with me ever since. It's fairly hateful, but it's worded in such a manner as to sound like a compliment - in a backhanded way. Add this statement to the list of reasons that my mother should have never had children. She would say to me:
"You have such a pretty face, if only you'd lose weight."
Let me tell you why I hate this comment. First off, this statement is the last thing you should ever say to a teenager. Comments like this one can cause eating disorders, which ended up being part of my problem. I'm an emotional eater and hearing this comment just ramped up my emotions. I swear every time she said it, I'd reach for food. Of course, I could have gone the other way with this comment and ended up with bulimia or anorexia, which I think is worse.
It's also an incredibly shallow comment. At some point in her life, my mother should have learned that beauty is only skin deep. This judgmental sentence indicates looks are the most important factor and I did not measure up. I would have preferred my mother mention my intelligence rather than my looks.
Additionally, it's just factually wrong. People are either pretty or not. It has nothing to do with their weight. There's a whole slew of beautiful plus-sized models. There's the English singer Adele. Valerie Bertinelli is beautiful no matter what size she is. There's Queen Latifah, Jennifer Coolidge, and so many more! Or how about the gorgeous actress/former beauty queen Delta Burke who gained weight and got lambasted about it for years until the issue was confronted in one of my favorite episodes from Designing Women ("They Shoot Fat Women, Don't They?"). There is no correlation between weight and beauty and I'm tired of people making that leap.
Finally, when I look in the mirror (regardless of my weight), I know who and what is looking back at me. Remember a previous post where I said: I'm a realist. The person looking back is an average looking woman who sparkles with intelligence, wit, and kindness (mixed with sarcasm). And I'm accepting of that. I just wish my mother had been.
Let this be a lesson to people:
7 comments:
Right on, sister. Besides you look a lot like me so I've been told. So you must be pretty, because I'm pretty. I'm a pretty man. Me and Muhammad Ali.
I have no idea what the hell is wrong with mothers. I think that is why I never wanted to be one, for fear that I would screw up my kids. You are pretty and always have been. I love you no matter what size because you have a effervescent personality and charm that is infectious. People love to be around people who bring out the best in them and you have always done that for me anyway. XOXOX
It's why I never wanted to be a mom either for that same reason. Thanks, cuz. I wasn't looking for compliments but it's nice to hear. xoxo
My post for Day 2:
When I was 6 and in kindergarten, I was chosen for the lead in the Christmas play. I was going to be the bad angel and I was so excited. I had confidence. I was fearless and I truly believed that I was the cat’s pajamas. I remember cracking jokes in class all the time and being quite the popular tot. Well of course, I got sick and could not give the performance of my life, the performance that could have propelled me to greater heights, maybe even the part of Marcia Brady, did I dare to dream? So being a kid, I did not think anything of it and as the school year progressed, I developed a big time crush on one of the other kids. When it came to the graduation play, Snow White, he was cast as Prince Charming. I just figured given my status as the most fabulous kid in the class that I would naturally be Snow White. It could not have been more perfect. And this was before these Disney princesses were plastered all over little girl’s walls, clothes, accessories, etc. In fact Disney World wasn’t even open yet. Anyway, much to my disappointment the teacher chose someone else to be Snow White. What? How could this be? I was crushed. She gave me no explanation. My protests were dismissed in the form of go away kid you bother me and that was that. She cast me as the flower girl in the wedding, seriously? All this talent and I was reduced to accepting a minor part, she didn’t even speak. Talk about being pushed off of that pedestal I built for myself.
Needless to say, I was donned in a rather fancy dress with a full compliment of hair and makeup and told that I was the most beautiful girl on the stage. That actually made be sick to my stomach. I did suck it up and begrudgingly tossed the rose petals in front of the happy couple with a scowl on my face that I hoped made me the ugliest kid in the class and hated Snow White and my teacher ever since. The boy moved so I never saw him again and that was that for my first romance. Every time anyone told me I was pretty it seemed so shallow, superficial and irrelevant. I never took any of those compliments seriously and actually came to distrust anyone who offered them. So, I withdrew. I had very few friends and was an inactive participant in school activities. I actually made a conscious effort to dress down even in high school wearing no makeup, heels, etc. that the other girls were wearing. Jeans, t-shirts and work boots or clogs were my dress code. Not that I regret it. I think my skin has benefitted immensely. I got average grades but honestly I never studied anything. I just felt so defeated by this one incident that it changed my whole outlook about myself and what i was capable of.
The strange thing though is that many years later, I was in my twenties actually, I finally got up the nerve to ask the teacher why she did not give me the part. All those years I felt like such a loser, inadequate and worthless; silly, now that I look back at it but I just had to know why. What will always remain with me is her response. She actually looked shocked and could not believe that this had been bothering me. She said I didn’t pick you because you got sick for the Christmas play. She was afraid that I would get sick again and wouldn’t be able to perform. Hello, that’s what understudies are for! And you could have just told me that. But to say nothing and shove me aside like yesterday's news was traumatic for a kid. I could not believe that all that time I thought there was something wrong with me but there wasn’t. All she was worried about was that the show went on. What guarantee did she have that the other girl wouldn’t get sick? I think she was being honest and she did apologize but all she cared about was that her play wasn’t a bomb. She didn’t even care if the best actress wasn’t a part of it. What kind of example is that to set for kids, mediocrity! I was so pissed that I passed up probably so many opportunities because I let her actions dictate mine. Damn it all! And although I have tried, despite understanding, I suppose, I have never forgiven her.
Lesson learned: Do not put yourself on a pedestal it hurts like hell when you hit the ground; to hell with what anyone thinks or says because they have no clue period and even if they did they don’t really care. Be true to yourself and pursue goals that you can actually achieve and stay away from boys. I continued to apply that philosophy since and am all the better for it. So, I think it is time that Snow White and I have girl talk one night and become BFFs.
Wow, what a story, Marianne!! It's crazy the stuff that stays with us over the years.
Yes, it is. I have a million of these stories. The rest of the challenge should be interesting.
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