Skinny people are irritating.
I still think so, even now that I am one.
I am irritating.
I know that.
Especially when I’m at the grocery store in heels, with a cart full of vegetables and meat, feeling great about myself. I’m walking through the store feeling fantastic, and it shows. And as I go about my business I can’t help but notice how demoralized and unwell a lot of people are. And a tall skinny happy lady who is noticing how fat & sickly you look as you pull a frozen pizza off the shelf, is irritating.
Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not walking around thinking I’m so awesome and pitying the sad, fat people. It’s just when you disentangle yourself from dependency on crap food and get used to having prana running through your body, it is shocking to wake up and realize how desperately unhealthy and unhappy people are.
I don’t dis fat people in my mind, or pity them, but I do feel compassion. Because I’ve been there. Quite recently. And I am feeling splendid, and I am really proud of myself, and all of that shows, when a fat person sees me noticing them with a frozen pizza the grocery store.
And when I was the fat person with the frozen pizza at the grocery store, compassion emanating toward me from a healthy person sure looked a whole lot like pity, and that was really irritating.
After I’d lost my 75lbs, a good friend of mine put a picture of fat-me up on her fridge. I was a little discomfited by that. I didn’t want to see fat-me. I wasn’t that person anymore! I didn’t even want anyone to know I had been her. What was my friend’s point, anyway? Was she trying to undermine me?
I looked closer.
In the photo I was standing looking at one of my kids when she was about two. I had quizzical eyebrows, maybe gritting my teeth, plainly exasperated, as she sassed along doing her 2-year-old thing. Not a flattering photo. What kind of mother would people think I was?
Um, the kind of mother I was.
The kind who loved her kids to distraction and was right there with them while they sassed along doing their 2-year-old (or 13-year-old) thing… but who as often as not had quizzical eyebrows and was probably gritting her teeth. And was fat.
And in looking at that photo I realized that in criticizing my previous self I had been acting like the worst kind of irritating skinny person. The judgemental bitchy kind. And I looked at my younger, fatter self more closely and I started to feel some love. And then I started to really like that photo. And then I asked my friend for it. And now it’s on my fridge.