loving son

When I was 19 no one would have called me fat. No one would call me fat now, for that matter. Recently a date told me I was skinny, which made me laugh. I'd said to him, "You're a big guy." Which made him think I thought he was fat. He was over 6'3" and a big, beefy guy, but I didn't think he was fat. I tried to diffuse the situation by saying, "You're fat, I'm fat. Whatever. I could stand to lose ten pounds, but it's not important." (Yes, it amazes me that I said that. And that I thought it would help.) He said, "What are you talking about? You're thin. You're skinny." "Um, no I'm not. But thanks." It came up again later and I told him he could never say anything other than that I was skinny--you can't put that genie back in the bottle. It was nice, but the compliment should at least be credible. Not fat, sure. Slim? Maybe. Skinny? Well, no. When I told Pele this story she said, "You know you're not fat, right?" Yes, I know, but thanks.

About four years ago, I was dating "Bruce" and I put on a bit of weight (which I eventually lost). I had a mysterious foot problem and it made it difficult to exercise. I had a cast on for a while and I had to walk as little as possible (a neat trick when you don't own a car). I looked healthy and my face didn't get fat and having a well-defined waist helped. But I did not feel great about how I looked. I even went so far as to say something to Bruce that I have never said to another boyfriend, "I'm getting so fat. I look terrible." Bruce said, "Don't be silly." "Oh, c'mon, it's really getting out of hand." He said, "It's not your fault, you can't exercise." "I could do more..." "Jamy, you're a beautiful woman." Bruce had his moments. Even several years later, if I feel bad about how I look, I remember those words. It helps.

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