Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Notes from the Pin Cushion

Over the years I’ve learned not to share certain things with my mother, because I know she’ll have something to say about those things that I don’t want to hear. It use to be a conscious decision, but that stopped some time ago, and I now somehow subconsciously know what will be okay to talk about and what won’t. Regardless, there are exceptions to every rule.

Maybe it was the needles that disconnected me from my guard, but after my acupuncture treatment last night I called my mom “just because,” which sadly enough, is something I rarely do. Perhaps because unless I have something to tell her, my thoughts wander and I accidently bring up something I know she’ll have an opinion about that I won’t want to hear. It’s been a while since I made that mistake.

I started telling my mom about acupuncture, half thinking she’s tell me something off the wall like the church was against it or it deals with Satan or something like that. It’s those types of comments that subconsciously kept me from mentioning acupuncture to her before. Shit, when I was I kid I remember her making me turn off yoga on PBS, because it was “new age” and anything “new age” was of the devil. I just liked their leotards.

She threw me for a loop this time though. I was shocked at how positive and supportive she was being. She even relayed that a long-time friend of hers has been receiving arthritis treatment via acupuncture for over 30 years – the woman would fly to San Francisco from Atlanta on a regular basis just to keep herself off medication.

Nope, my mom surprised me – until the end of our lengthy conversation when she really surprised me.

“This is just wonderful – anything positive you can do for yourself and your health and your body is great,” she said, “And you know, maybe once all the other issues are worked out, maybe acupuncture can finally help you lose all that weight.”

I replied with a “Why do you always have to go there?”

An argument about “who goes where” ensues, until she realizes I never once mentioned anything even closely relating to weight. She concedes, but qualifies her admission of guilt with the fact that “I know you don’t want to be fat your whole life. I know deep down it bothers you.”

I can honestly say at this point in time that I’m really quite happy with myself and my body. I’m fit, I eat well, and I exercise a lot. Hell, I wanted to get my health in order by the time I was 30, because I knew it would be harder to do after that, and look at me – I did it! I may still be classified as “obese” on the BMI scale, but I haven’t been in the “normal” range since I was 9 years old. I did 30 laps in 5 minutes at my 1st practice back two nights ago – could she have done that under the same conditions? No, but she does starve herself to keep the weight off that she lost after my dad died. She actually references her ability to have lost that weight at that time as if it’s a good thing, but I don’t think it is.

I’m sure my opinion here smells like an asshole to her, but hers smells like one to me too.

I’m hoping this mentality regarding weight is an age thing and that people my age who have kids relay the importance of good health, not good size, but I’m probably giving the general public too much credit.

To everyone out there that values size over the merits of what’s contained in it, do me a favor and just go fuck yourself. Seriously.


Anonymous said...

One of my patients said yesterday that any time a woman loses weight, it's a good thing. I don't know why people (especially other women!) assume that every woman is obsessed with the numbers on her jeans and her scale.

Anonymous said...

amen. your last line is absolutely quoteworthy.

SKabs said...

In my experience, the only people who have ever even commented about my weight have been other women. Mostly they told me I looked great after I had been sick with dissentary for a month and lost over 20 lbs. I was like: I'm SICK, BITCHES! This is NOT healthy! It puzzles me and I've never been sure what to make of it.