I was at my sister’s house today between PT and hair appointments, when she got the newest People magazine in the mail. Her younger son (4) saw a bikinied woman and said, “Mommy, she looks like you!” We laughed about how sweet it was. When their dad got home, we told him the story. He sat on the couch with their older son (6) looking for “mommies” in the magazine. He said, “Nope, no mommies in there.” So I said, “Maybe you can find some Aunt Stephies in there.” Their dad said, “Yeah, I saw a couple.” The older son said, “I did. I saw like 8 of them. They were ugly.” It was the weight loss issue, something I would never allow in my house, and he was obviously looking at the before photos (as was his dad). I know what I look like and it is already hard enough for me to leave my house sometimes. I’m not proud to admit it, but sometimes being ugly limits what I do – I feel like I can’t make others have to deal with my looks. I have serious social anxiety issues because of my appearance. There’s something about hearing it in spoken words, though, that makes it more painful. I haven’t heard anyone call me fat or ugly to my face in years – maybe decades. I know they say it – christ, I could tell a story here that would make most people raging mad – but I don’t hear it. Hearing it brings it to an entirely different level.
