This post is stunning, Mary. This part is especially striking: “Come to think of it, my choosing a new doctor was one of the first steps in me choosing myself, in saying maybe I don’t need to be as small as you think, maybe I know more than you, even if you have a degree, maybe I know more about my body and what it needs.” Thank you for sharing both your vulnerability and self-empowerment with us.
This is such a gorgeous, generous post. I’m sorry but the actual-not-metaphorical siren made me laugh. Reminds me of the time I stepped on a scale at the gym and the display said ‘GET OFF’.
Oof this one resonates. Wish it didn’t, but it does. I hate how universal an experience this is for women- doesn’t matter if you grew up in a bigger or smaller body; rich, poor- the body stuff sheesh. Hopefully this is changing for the next generation like you said 🤞🤞
Also I’m taking my kids to Silverwood next weekend - thanks for the heads up!
This is a wonderful story, Mary. And your open vulnerability in sharing it is admirable. (I love people who aren't afraid to show their vulnerability as I have been unafraid of showing vulnerability since I was a child.) I have had friends who have suffered from anorexia, bulimia, addiction to exercise, etc. It is painful to watch someone whom you love suffering in life. Body image is such a delicate and complicated issue in our society. I would be remiss if I didn't share that once again, you made me laugh in different parts of your story. I love this about you. I truly appreciate your dry wit!
I've been a curvy girl since high school and have embraced it, but this year my husband lost about 25 pounds after finding out he had high cholesterol, so I am now much heavier than he is for the first time in our almost 30 year relationship (aside from my pregnancies). It has made me feel less sexy even though I didn't change. So weird how our self-perception can get warped from comparisons.
I can remember, some thirty years later, a scale at the DC Zoo that let you compare your weight to animals found there. I remember the cold sweat and the boulder in my stomach, standing there with my dad (who weighed me weekly, at his house, during the summers I lived with him) wanting to not just not do it… but to not exist. Wanting to not feel the abyss of self loathing I was made to feel in private — in a public place.
I can promise, were I presented with a scale for a ride, I’d be that 10 year old girl all over again in some depths of my body, despite all the healing work done.
I look at my daughter, who briefly cared and questioned around that same age (due to narratives outside our home) and think of how we just… stayed the course… and the way she now flourishes in her body right in the middle of puberty. It’s a beautiful thing.
This post is stunning, Mary. This part is especially striking: “Come to think of it, my choosing a new doctor was one of the first steps in me choosing myself, in saying maybe I don’t need to be as small as you think, maybe I know more than you, even if you have a degree, maybe I know more about my body and what it needs.” Thank you for sharing both your vulnerability and self-empowerment with us.
Oohh. I like the word stunning. Thank you for your love and support.
This is such a gorgeous, generous post. I’m sorry but the actual-not-metaphorical siren made me laugh. Reminds me of the time I stepped on a scale at the gym and the display said ‘GET OFF’.
Thank you Keris, and no need to apologize. I always want to make people laugh. We have to laugh right? Get off us pretty good stuff.
Oof this one resonates. Wish it didn’t, but it does. I hate how universal an experience this is for women- doesn’t matter if you grew up in a bigger or smaller body; rich, poor- the body stuff sheesh. Hopefully this is changing for the next generation like you said 🤞🤞
Also I’m taking my kids to Silverwood next weekend - thanks for the heads up!
Thanks for reading, yeah, this was a tough one I’m still working through. We had a blast at Silverwood.
As usual love your writing. Great job mama, one more girl whose doesn’t have body shame despite the cultural dynamics,
Thank you! This one stirred the pot, so I appreciate the extra love and support.
And this is how that wall of shame comes down for others, too. :)
Yes!
This is a wonderful story, Mary. And your open vulnerability in sharing it is admirable. (I love people who aren't afraid to show their vulnerability as I have been unafraid of showing vulnerability since I was a child.) I have had friends who have suffered from anorexia, bulimia, addiction to exercise, etc. It is painful to watch someone whom you love suffering in life. Body image is such a delicate and complicated issue in our society. I would be remiss if I didn't share that once again, you made me laugh in different parts of your story. I love this about you. I truly appreciate your dry wit!
Scales in public? Gah!
I've been a curvy girl since high school and have embraced it, but this year my husband lost about 25 pounds after finding out he had high cholesterol, so I am now much heavier than he is for the first time in our almost 30 year relationship (aside from my pregnancies). It has made me feel less sexy even though I didn't change. So weird how our self-perception can get warped from comparisons.
This story is so wonderful and I'm so glad I came across it. Your voice is lively and funny and deeply honest. Thank you for sharing it!
Thank you for reading and for the lovely compliment.
My stomach dropped at the intro.
I can remember, some thirty years later, a scale at the DC Zoo that let you compare your weight to animals found there. I remember the cold sweat and the boulder in my stomach, standing there with my dad (who weighed me weekly, at his house, during the summers I lived with him) wanting to not just not do it… but to not exist. Wanting to not feel the abyss of self loathing I was made to feel in private — in a public place.
I can promise, were I presented with a scale for a ride, I’d be that 10 year old girl all over again in some depths of my body, despite all the healing work done.
I look at my daughter, who briefly cared and questioned around that same age (due to narratives outside our home) and think of how we just… stayed the course… and the way she now flourishes in her body right in the middle of puberty. It’s a beautiful thing.
Here’s to being a back of the ride babe!
So honored to be keeping such good company! Thanks for sharing those tender pieces of your story. Good job for yourself and your daughter!