The Painful Truth

So today has been one of those rough days. Actually the past week has been filled with rough moments, none relating to today's, but still, rough. As I sit here and write this, tears are making tracks on my face. Once again, none of this is going to be easy to write about, but I want to because you have let me know, I am not alone.

It started this afternoon. A man and his daughters came to our house to pick up a camper we sold to them. When they arrived, my son looked at them out the window and said, "mama, they are just like you". They were all overweight. I kinda looked down at him, not sure how to react. My husband and I went outside to greet them. I had to come back in to locate the papers and such. While I was frantically looking through the files for what I needed, my husband came down and informed me that he had to call our children in because they were outside talking about how fat they (our guests) all were. Now, my first reaction was shock. How could my children, how dare they, talk to or about anyone in such away. I was embarrassed. Secondly, did our guests hear what my nasty children were saying? (We don't think so). Apparently the kids were just talking about fat people and skinny people. I am hoping they weren't intending to be cruel. I'd like to think they know better and don't have it in them to be as such.

On with the day. I am in the beginning stages of a transformation. Chin up. Move on. And so I did. We had to attend our son's dinner for Cub Scouts. I tried to dress and make myself look and feel as good as I could. Reminding myself that it doesn't matter how I look. I am making changes and it will take time. Keep going. Then we walked into the gym where the dinner was being held. Tables were set up with tiny, rickety wooden chairs. Clearly, they did not see me coming. I reluctantly sat in one all the while praying that it wouldn't collapse beneath me. I was also trying to ignore that my jeans were just a bit uncomfortable. " It's OK there are several people in this room who love you, like you, no matter what. Hang in there. Next year at this dinner, no worries. You can do this." And then I looked around the room, searching for anyone in my situation. Nope. I was alone. I was the biggest one there. Then, this amazing thing happened. Mommy pride kicked in and I was able to put my worries in the back of my mind. That was my boy up there, getting awards, breaking records with friends, smiling. God, I love him. I love who I became because of him. That's my boy. I still worried about the chairs, but not as badly. I had more important things to focus on.

Now came the ride home. Somehow the topic of fat people came up again. I turned the radio off and said, "You know guys, besides it being hurtful to other people, you are hurting mommy and daddy too. Because being your mommy and daddy is the most important job we will ever have. When you say things that are unkind, we have to think that we are not doing our job properly. We are supposed to teach you many things. Being kind is one of them. You are right, mommy is fat and I am working on trying to become healthier so that I can feel good and be around for a long long time. But when someone tells you that you are fat, it is hurtful and not helpful. I know it makes me very sad." Then Emily had something to say. "Mommy, you know when you brought in my treats for Valentine's Day? Lauren said to me that you were really fat." All I could tell her was that I was sorry. And I am. This was the day I never wanted to happen. I never wanted and always feared that my children would be ashamed of me. I was her blemish. I am so very sorry. What else was I supposed to say?

So here I sit at the bottom of this very tall and intimidating mountain. I have every desire in the world to climb it. I would be lying if I said I am not feeling somewhat defeated at this moment. And yes, I am feeling a bit sorry for myself. I am also wondering how I am ever going to accomplish this.

We all know that children can be cruel. But they are also honest. They haven't learned to sugar coat the truth to make it easier to swallow. I know my children love me in such a way I have never been loved before. I think that is why what they had to say hurt so much. I have let them down. I am past those days of just being their hero because I could kiss the boo boo away or make them laugh when really they wanted to cry.

Now my husband was sitting in the car beside me for this conversation. He said nothing to me. I know he knows this has to hurt. Nothing. I can't help but feel as though he is silently punishing me. I know that he thinks I could be doing more. MORE. I am trying. This is not easy and I am not sure he understands my approach. If you have never been in this situation, fat, I think it is very hard to understand what it is like. Tonight, in this house, I feel very isolated. I could really use a hug and some understanding. My pride won't let me ask for what I really need more than anything right now. So really, I am punishing myself. Partly because I am afraid of having to explain anything at all or having him think I am asking him to overlook my missteps. I don't want to hear how he thinks it should happen. I just want a hug. Just 'cause.

So, that was my day today. I need a hero.