Shame

Let's talk about "shame" today.
In the 13 years that I've know my husband, he's only mentioned my weight twice. Twice!
Once, in the early stages of dating, while at a BBQ. He said something about the little extra pounds that I had put on. (we're talking about maybe 5 lbs. at this point.) While I didn't say anything to him, because it was a fairly new relationship, one of the girls at the BBQ jumped all over his sorry ass. (She was a pretty close friend of his.)
"Why would you ever say that to a girl?? Do you know that that's how anorexia starts?! You have a very skewed vision of what a woman looks like, and you should be ashamed of yourself!!"
I sat there stunned, not knowing what to say. It must have stuck with Mr. Hummingbird, because he doesn't mention my weight for about another 9 years. The second time he mentions it, he had just seen a commercial for Hydroxycut (the original, with Epherdra. We'll talk about ephedra another time.) and suggested I might consider purchasing the product. This time, I was not afraid to show him how I felt about his little suggestion.
I threw a book at him.
At his head.
At his nose.
I made contact. :)
But, looking back now, I wonder if I would have ate less and exercised more if he would have hounded me? HAD he hounded me, my choices would have been:
a. Eat less. Eat healthy. Exercise.
b. Eat an entire pepperoni pizza by myself. (that'll show him!!")

I have a feeling that my choice would have been "b" no matter what he said or did.


So, Mr. Hummingbird is wise enough now to not mention my weight. My family and girlfriends never said anything to me either. AND we are super close. ("super close" that it borders on creepy, according to my therapist) So, who is going to tell you that you are fat???

Your husband's friends and male coworkers.

I can tell you exactly each time I met a new friend or coworker, since it is now burned into my memory. They would smile, reach out their hands, and avert their eyes. Every single one of them.
Shame.
Shame for me. Shame for my poor unlucky husband who got one of life's raw deals. I could see it in their face, as they tried to calculate how much I weighed. Or try to picture what I used to look like, since a fine foxy husband like mine wouldn't have married such a cow on purpose. Or maybe I tricked him?? He's kindof dumb, maybe I'm a fat but smart mastermind who hypnotized him with amazing sex in order for him to break down and marry me? Their faces were always the same.
What would I do? Why, smiler bigger. Suck in my gut. Lean over to show more cleavage. And ignore it. I didn't know any better.
No one had ever showed me to always be proud of myself. No one had taught me to always respect myself and demand respect. I let them make me feel shame.

I know better now.