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Self> That Piece
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That Piece of
Cake
By S.D. Craig
Published April 2001
A recent article I read got me going again
on the subject of those of us who weigh
more than the comfortable norm and what
we have endured through our lives. It suggested
that if you wrote down the top eighteen
things people have said to you regarding
your weight that hurt, you could laugh about
them with your supportive friends. Lines
that I remember causing pain are not something
I'd want to dredge up again for the sake
of a forced laugh, but it might work.
"Are you sure you want that piece
of cake?" haunts me. What it
means is that someone (other than you) is
watching your weight and is trying not-so-gently
to let you know they don't think you are.
How very clever. How very painful.
For one thing I should be blessedly happy.
I didn't grow up with weight problems as
a child. In my twenties the troubles began,
after leaving once-a-day physical education
classes, daily horseback riding and walking
up those hills to and from the bus stop.
They don't warn you when you leave high
school you still need to stay active.
Not back in the seventies they didn't. What
happens? All of a sudden, you're a
grown up. You get married. Life intrudes.
At forty-seven, they've had plenty of years
to make the comments that dig, and then,
dig deeper. What is so ironic is the disguise
or denial of it all. "It's said or
done for my own good" is the reason
they cite. Can I say now it does nothing
for me? Thanks.
What they're hoping to gain (pardon the
pun), I don't know. Justice and a smug smile
if I were to sit up, take notice, and finally
starve myself to a mere but acceptable hundred
thirty-five pounds? Better health they're
hoping for me? Funny thing is, I'm healthier
than most of them. I'm rarely sick, my cholesterol
is terrific, I walk 4-5 days a week and
have now decided to swim daily. So, I'm
big. I'm not thin. I don't fit in with the
gorgeous females in my family. I'm not Meg
Ryan, boyishly trim and darling. Because
of these searing comments, will I ever stop
trying to be someone like her? Is that truly
what they really want? That, I wonder.
I want to have total acceptance of myself.
I want to be secure in this body I'm living
in. My man loves me, my friends love me,
and I have a wonderful life. I'm a writer
and I do what I love every day. Somehow,
those nagging comments through the past
twenty-five years have so haunted me. I
wish they'd go away. Really far away. One
article like that brings it all back. I'm
grateful for my healthy body and lifestyle,
for it could be far worse. Much, more so.
I try to focus on that and how lucky I am.
I have both legs to let me walk. I have
eyes that let me see. I can hear lovely
music and smell flowers every day. The kicker
is, I can taste. Oh dear.
Let me pass by yet another page of words
that brought back the past to smack me cold
again. The reflections of me in car windows
as I walk by, the discomfort of my figure
in a bathing suit, the tugging down of my
shorts.
Give me strength to love me, Lord, as I
am. And grit my teeth once more.
About the writer:
| SD
Craig has been a busy writer, recently
opening two sites, GiggleWithMe.com
and LovingYourCurves.com. Please
stop in soon and get on the newsletter/subscribe
e-mail list. Life's experiences
give her plenty to write about from
her own wacky perspective and along
with articles on body image (her biggest
passion), she takes on marriage and
male/female relationships, family and
children, career issues, computers and
the Internet, horses, baseball, raising
kids and parents, movie reviews and
writing tips. A freelance writer
with five columns, you can e-mail her
at: sdcraig922@yahoo.com
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Links:
http://www.LovingYourCurves.com
http://www.GiggleWithMe.com
http://www.SunshineSanDiego.com
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