My recent epiphany.

A little over a month ago Dave and I had friend come to stay with us for a few days. He was visiting from our old home town of Arcata and was in Southern California to attend a conference for work. (Gosh we miss Arcata! But that will be a post for another day...)

One night at dinner as I was serving myself a second helping of whatever it was we were eating, I apologized to our friend, "Oh, sorry, I'm just so hungry these days! I'm still nursing Annabelle and I'm still on this restricted diet and really can't get enough to eat. But the amazing thing is that I keep eating and I'm still losing weight, did you know that I've lost..." I stopped talking when I looked up and saw the look on his face. A brief second of silence and he replied, "You know, what you eat and what you weigh are really none of my business."

Oh.

And for about six weeks I have been stewing on his comment. You know what? He is TOTALLY right. I have apologized for my size way too many times in my life. I have spent way too much time feeling too tall, too big, or too strong. I have wasted too much energy on trying to explain myself when it wasn't appropriate to do so.

Here's the crazy thing: The best I ever felt about my body was in college when I weighed the most. (Not counting my pregnancy weight!) I had joined the crew team my freshman year and jumped from novice to jv to varsity boat in less than a year. I was lifting weights six times a week and looking really beefy. And I loved it! I loved that I got compliments for being strong (not skinny or sexy) and that my whole team was on a campaign to get me to gain more weight to put behind that oar.

And how strange it is looking back and noticing that some of the times when I felt my absolute worst my have been when I looked my best, at least by societal standards. Like the year I got bronchitis like ten times: I was a student, I was working two jobs, I was going through one of the worst breakups of my life, and I had a freeking six pack. And I don't think I wore anything other than tank tops with flannel shirts and jeans that year. (I'm not the most fashionably intelligent person.) My hair was in a greasy ponytail every day. I was renting a room for $200 and sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag. I could barely afford my books for school, let alone clothes or a bed.

In my current life I have a friend who makes my weight and diet her business. It drive me insane. I reply to her questions and try to be honest about my exercise habits without embarrassment even though I know I could never do enough to win her approval. My body is a topic of conversation every single time I see her. I now know beforehand to be prepared with answers that are maybe only half-truths. I don't lie, but I only tell the truth that I know she wants to hear. It's a ridiculous game and the most frustrating part of it is that after several years of this, it is finally getting to me. I find myself screaming inside, "I'M NOT FAT!" or "FOR GOD'S SAKE I JUST HAD A BABY!" But instead I quickly and quietly say something like, "You know, I'm still nursing so I can't eat a low-fat diet." or "Yes, I'm swimming three days a week and yesterday I picked up the aerobics schedule at the gym and hope to start that soon." And lately I've had these brief thoughts, "Wouldn't she like to see me exercising so hard now!" or "She would be so glad to know I just had a salad for dinner." I see how total bullshit this is, but it's happening nonetheless.

And now, in conversation with total strangers, I find myself offering justifications of my habits or sometimes boasting about how I lost all my pregnancy weight in less than six months or how I weigh less than I did when Dave and I first started dating seven years ago. And as soon as I do it I feel foolish because I know why I said it: My friend has conjured up my own little devil that sits on my shoulder telling me bad things about myself. And it doesn't feel so easy to give that devil a shrug and kick her out the door.

Please know that this post is NOT a solicitation for compliments. My whole point is simply that how you feel doesn't always correspond with how you look. Every woman I know struggles with weight and with developing a positive body image. I don't know many men who share this issue with women, but I would love to hear about it.

And I would love to know how you would handle a friend like mine. Giving her up isn't an option, and neither is telling her off... I can't change her, only the way I respond to her and the way I feel about her inappropriate questions. There are many ways that she is a very good person and a very good friend. I know that she obsesses about my weight far less than she obsesses about her own. She just has the unfortunate habit of seeing someone's weight first, before their smile, humor, warmth, or personality. In my opinion she has wasted too much of her life making other people's personal business her own. Really, there are a lot of overweight people out there and who cares?