Ugh. I was just out with my aunt and she said some things that really hurt…
Some background: my 64-year-old aunt has a form of bone cancer and is recovering from a stem cell transplant. She is my height at 5’8” but just now about 100 pounds, slowly gaining after a low near 90, caused by her poor appetite from cancer treatments. But she’s always been slender, like a ballet dancer, and very concerned about her appearance. As for me, I was a thin child, but after becoming a teenager, my weight has been up and down like crazy. I’ve lost over 50 pounds before and regained it, and had many many smaller ups and down since… but I have not yet reached that stable place of losing and staying at goal.
Before she had cancer, she had an edge that could come out in conversations, but now that she is sick, I definitely notice it more.
We ordered, after she finished telling me that I shouldn’t feel guilty if I ordered stuff like I have ordered in the past… French onion soup, mac and cheese, salads with blue cheese dressing. But my cholesterol is high and my doctor wants me to get it down or go on a statin drug. So loads of cheese is not on my menu choices... and I don’t really miss that stuff.
I had a portobello mushroom appetizer and a bowl of chili. My aunt had a big platter of fried fish and chips. Then we began to discuss judgements on physical appearances. She brought up a woman on the news who suffered from gigantism… and then I mentioned what the obese face, and said that I had a lot of sympathy for them (being a member too) for how difficult it is to lose and keep off weight. Not impossible, but challenging… that I had found it hard with a mindset I have fallen into of needing to be perfectly “On the Diet” then later rebelling and eating whatever I wanted.
She then mentioned she had seen a segment on TV that said fast food was formulated to push buttons in people for the senses of salty and sweet and can be addictive. I agreed that food can act like a drug in that sense. At that moment, the waiter came over and said he could get us the dessert menu if we’d like to look it over. I declined, but my aunt said she’d like to look it over.
She did so, then handed it over to me. Now I was pretty full, but I was tempted by the lemon mousse cake, thinking it’d be light, so I ordered a slice. The waiter went off to get it.
“Oh Sarah…” she said. “I thought you said you were done.” She looked at me with a sour face.
“Well… aren’t you getting anything?” I asked.
“I would have loved something, but I can’t eat anything on that menu.” (She’s lactose-intolerant.)
I just sat there, too surprised at this scene to say anything.
“Different mindset, I guess” she said dismissively, playing with a piece of paper on the table and avoiding my eyes.
“Hmmm.” I said. Conversation died down after that. After feeling shamed and judged, there was no way in **** I was going to eat that dessert in front of her, so I took the piece of cake to go after the waiter brought it to the table.
Besides, even if I was starving, that cake would taste like sand, eating it while she said there and watched.
I was so steamed and offended to be talked to like I was a stupid child, but I said nothing besides polite conversation.
ARRRRRRRRRGH! I have to admit, what I want to do now is throw the cake in my fridge into the trash and immediately go on a crash diet to ‘show her.’
Of course I do need to lose weight, and I know this. I know that crash dieting is not the smart way to do it also…. and that I need to lose weight for myself. But oooOOooooo!
I’ll tell you, it’s good incentive, but I just lost a little bit of the sympathy I have for her in her sickness, I’m ashamed to say. It must have been nice to have thin parents, and the best of everything growing up, when I got a fat mom with her own weight struggles and painful history, and a stretch of WIC/food stamps as a kid… and a nice bunch of weirdness around food that comes after a good part of my childhood was being force-fed food I didn’t want by my mother, until my plate was clean or I vomited (this part is admittedly unknown to my aunt, and will definitely remain so.)
Not that I’m just a product of my upbringing, but I tell you… this kind of judgement is EXACTLY what I was talking about. Different mindset indeed.
But perhaps I overreact. Your thoughts?



Ha!