Warning: I'm about to get very transparent here. If you look closely, you may catch a glimpse of my spleen.
We had a surprisingly good Thanksgiving today. Everyone was on their best behavior, so we all got along swimmingly. My family in East Texas lives on this tiny little piece of stunningly beautiful land, and I took many pictures. Of the lake, of the leaves, of the old old chairs that I used to sit in. Of the dock off of which I used to fish with my D-Daddy when I was a little one. When it was time for family pictures, I directed the photo shoot, and got some fabulous photos of all of the families. I put them onto my aunt's computer, and we looked at them on the Hi-Def monitor and they were stunning. I had to take my dad up and show him the pictures I was so proud of. I should have known better.
This is a picture of me and my sister. Normally I don't put people's pictures on the web without their permission, but this time I'm going to make an exception. My dad looked at the picture and pointed to my stomach and said "I want you to work on that. I'm getting us a family membership to the gym and I want you to go and work on that."
With that, my world came crashing down and my heart broke.
I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, and I want to think he was trying to be gentle in discussing his concern for me, but I know he was not. He is not worried about my health, he is concerned with looks. He always has been.
What he doesn't understand is that I know that I am fat. I've gone past not-skinny to fat. I know. I don't need you pointing it out to me. I know it's my own fault as well. I know that. I don't need you to point it out to me, especially not using a picture in which I'm standing next to my size 4 sister. I know.
What crushed me to the core is two things.
1. We have an extremely dysfunctional history, filled with much much verbal and emotional abuse. I forgave him and judging by his behavior he had changed. We hang out and we enjoy going places together, and I guess for a while I'd thought that I'd finally done enough to please him and make him want to spend time with me. But when he said that comment, it's as if he hadn't ever changed. It's as if he was telling me once again that I wasn't good enough. If I could just change that one thing, then maybe I'd be the perfect daughter he's always seemed to want.
2. He gave a real-life voice to the Voice inside my head. Just like that guy on the plane, I'm getting tangible proof that what I think about myself is true (regardless of whether it's true or not). I can't just think "it's all in my head" because it's been spoken out loud, and that somehow gives it power.
See, when I believe the Voice in my head, I believe that's why I'm not married, and why no man ever looks twice at me. Yes, once they get to know me they discover how wonderful I am, but if they can't get past the outside, how will they ever get to know me? That's the permeating Voice in my head. Telling me that I'll never get married, and have no reason to hope. Crushing the Voice That Should Be Inside My Head. The one that let's me see everyone but myself as He made them.
And so, I emerge from the bathroom and make some flimsy excuse about the cat bothering my allergies, and everyone believes me. Because I'm THAT good at hiding.
For this post, the comments have been turned off. If I see you in real life, I'd really rather not talk about this. I don't ever let people in this far, for a reason. I'll be okay, and I'll bounce back to myself soon, but I wanted you to know what life with my family is really like.
Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left
Cleaning up the mess he made
Fathers be good to your daughter
