Gussied Up
The new mom’s group that I joined is having a mom’s night out tonight (gah! Where do all the apostrophes go?) and I am going! I’ve been looking forward to it ever since they changed the location from Applebees to a good little Mexican restaurant. I’m going to put on a bra that lifts and separates, add a touch of make up to my face and maybe, just maybe, comb my hair. Oh, and jewelery. I’m going to wear some jewelery. You’d think I was going on a date, I’m so excited. I just can’t wait to wear a REAL bra and not a stupid nursing bra that lets my boobs sag to my belly button. I think the only purpose of the nursing bra is to hold in the nursing pads. It sure doesn’t do a thing to support the girls.
This morning I was buzzing around the house, reveling in my self-confidence. A few years ago I would not have gone to such an event. I would have been scared everyone would laugh at me for being fat and if I did go I just would have sat in the corner and not said anything, leading everyone there to think I was bland or stupid. Things have changed over the years and I now understand a few things about human nature and myself. Thanks to a few years spent as an unbiased observer in a societal microcosm (I was a high school teacher) I know that it doesn’t matter how pretty you are. People like people who are friendly. They like people who can tell a joke. They like people who can carry on a conversation and ask questions. Thanks to blogging and other Internet interactions, I’ve discovered that people actually like me. They really, really like me. Some of them. My personality is not totally repulsive if I just let people see the real me. I don’t need to hide my wacky observations. I can just be me and people will not throw up or hide when they see me coming.
Then I did some blog reading and came across a huge firestorm of fat talk that made me so enraged I didn’t even want to go to the party tonight because there will be skinny people and if the person who wrote this post (not going to give a direct link b/c I don’t want to show up in the stats because I don’t want that crowd hanging around here) http://morphingintomama.typepad.com/morphing_into_mama/2006/03/false_advertisi.html thinks fat people are losers who are unworthy of love (ok, so that’s some major paraphrasing, but that’s what her words are saying to me) then all the skinny people at the party will think that and why should I bother to go be around a bunch of bitchy people who hate me because I’m not perfect.
Never mind the fact that the people I’m meeting tonight didn’t write that post and I have no idea what they think. Never mind the fact that the post honestly doesn’t even apply to me because I haven’t gained a lot of weight since getting married so I’m not a case of “false advertising.” Never mind the fact that I happy and healthy and have a husband who supports me in everything I do. I was enraged at all the skinny people of the world and wanted to beat someone up while hiding in a hole in the ground.
Seriously, it’s false advertising if you gain some weight or cut your hair after marriage? Does this person not understand the concept of change and growing older? I’m sure all us fat ladies plotted and planned and ate lots of pizza JUST so we could get fat and make our husbands mad. I’m sure we all LOVE being fat just to spite our husbands. I’m sure none of us are unhappy with our weight and trying our best to be healthy and lose weight and so on and so forth. That post is the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever read.
Wouldn’t false advertising be more along the lines of a liberal hanging around pro-life rallies and marrying the leader of the Young Republicans. Then she gets him, marries him and starts having abortions and insists that they move into a house made out of old tires. Now THAT would be false advertising.
I decided my anger was not at all productive and that a good long walk would get me out of my funk. I noticed we needed a few things from the grocery store, so I decided to pretend I was Swedish and walk to the store.
It’s not that far. . .
Famous last words.
It only took about forty minutes to get there, but there were some seriously killer hills on the way. I had to take off my winter coat and stow it under the stroller.
On the way back I decided to take a “short cut” but forgot that this town is a labrynth of courts, cul-de-sacs, circles and dead ends. I was hemmed in by gullies and town houses. MisterE woke up and was started to fuss. I knew he was hungry but didn’t know what to do. Hide in a ditch and feed him? Crawl over a privacy hedge and sit on someones nice patio furniture while praying they weren’t home? Keep walking and hope to heck I would find my way home? I picked up the pace, while mentally picturing Harry Flippin’ Potter trying to defeat Voldemort while pushing a baby buggy.
The boy finally fell asleep again and we made it home. We were only gone two hours. No wonder my shins are killing me. I think I better avoid short cuts.
And now my rage over that post is gone and I just feel sorry for anyone who would marry a person who is only interested in looks. Once again I am so thankful that I am married to a man who loves me for ME. He didn’t even flinch when I dyed my hair blue, even though it made me look like the wicked witch of the west.
March 23rd, 2006 at 3:25 pm
“I just feel sorry for anyone who would marry a person who is only interested in looks”
I think that says it best right there.
And thanks for the reminder that people like people who are friendly. I get so tied up with worry about things that no one will even NOTICE, but they will remember a smile. =)
You rock.
March 23rd, 2006 at 7:23 pm
Carrie, Mim is one of the central characters of the Mommy’s who blog that I can’t stand. I don’t even know why you’re so surprised at this fatstorm. I’ve told you and anyone else that will listen how shallow and pathetic this group of moms are. They have NOTHING going for them beyond their looks. NOTHING. Mim might be amusing some of the time, but that post, which I first read a few days ago, and have now followed on Suburban Bliss, City Mama, Tertia and a couple of other places I can’t even remember, was so ridiculously immature and infuriating, not just because it was about fat, but because it was about shallow people that feel that any change equals false advertising, and if you’re married, your job is to do what your spouse wants with regards to your look.
So, when I got married, lo that many years ago, I had shocking pink hair that was cut so short it was hidious. I was thinner, yes, but I also wore contact lenses that I’m now allergic to, and I was also wearing all black leather all the time. Should I have continued to look like a butch biker gone wild because my spouse married that person, but 20+ years later times have changed? The thought of this is just SO STUPID and shallow and typically California/Left Coast/Portland/Seattle tnat I want to toss my cookies about it all.
What is wrong with women that are so frightened of gaining weight, but on the other hand dis every star with an eating disorder. You can’t have it both ways. Either you embrace the ‘looks are everything and being skinny is more important than anything else’ or you embrace the ‘i’m fine who I ma, regardless of weight, hairdo, or anything else.’
Don’t let it get to you. Realize that there are a lot more of us sane, well balanced women out there than the few that are married to metrosexuals and need to appear perfect, no matter how flawed they are inside.
March 24th, 2006 at 12:45 pm
Gah. GAH. Sheesh! When I read that post, I see someone who hasn’t had the priviledge of being loved by someone who seriously, honestly, could care less how their loved one looks - and apparently doesn’t extend that priviledge themselves.
Sad really. Fortunately some of us have had better luck. Ironic the person would write to some extent about selfesteem and selfrespect..
March 24th, 2006 at 9:13 pm
Well, I went over and read that post and was gobsmacked that anybody could even CONSIDER weight an issue in a relationship - or a friendship. Health is important, but WEIGHT? And tying it up with self-esteem is just plain silly. Not everybody overeats because of ‘lack of self-esteem.’ When I’m happy I eat more, and when I’m stressed I can’t eat. (And that’s also when The Man starts to worry about me, because he is a good person and not a shallow idiot.)
The Tuesday night group of women I usually meet (which changes over time, but we’re all wonderful :-) had three women who really demonstrate that health issue. Three are overweight. One was overweight and healthy (she has since lost weight and is still healthy). One has arthritis in her knees, and knows that excess weight is making it harder for herself, so is always dieting, although she’s not dreadfully overweight. She is dieting because she doesn’t like pain. The third was obese, and we all used to worry about her - and I mean we sometimes talked about it, with her, and tried to help, because her weight was obviously causing massive health problems. We were afraid for her.
We were right to be afraid. She died last year, very suddenly, from a heart attack directly caused by her weight. It was DEVASTATING. We were her friends - couldn’t we have helped more? But she was morbidly obese, not just overweight - she could barely walk. THAT was the issue, not her looks. (She was beautiful anyway.) And we all loved her so much, and miss her terribly. She was intelligent, witty, funny as shit, had the best stories, could do the best impersonations (god I miss her impersonations!), discerning about what makes people tick, sympathetic, you could talk with her about everything, bloody good company, such an exuberant personality - and she had this huge problem with weight that just wouldn’t go away. It was so unfair that someone like her, such a GOOD person, should have had this problem. Why couldn’t she have had, oh, I don’t know, zits? or something more harmless? Because that’s what it was, a HEALTH problem. Not a ‘looks’ problem.
Jeez, Carrie! If you ever come to Japan I’m dragging you along to the Tuesday night thing, and I don’t say that to just anybody. But it’s OBVIOUS you’re good company.
March 25th, 2006 at 7:48 am
I guess I should be congratulating myself on “getting” my husband when I was (am…are..whatever) fat. Boy, I really pulled the wool over his eyes.