I took this picture this morning...out on the sun-soaked field, sitting in the damp grass, watching Kiki chase leaves. There were angry thoughts and frustration whirling around inside of me, and then, you know what? I felt OK. I felt glad to be out there in the fresh air, where everything is simple. Where I am just me. Kiki, the wind, the sun....they see me without makeup, see me in whatever mental state I am in, and accept it, and love me and give me their blessings. I felt embraced! And I thought, why don't I take a picture, so I can remember what I really look like, so I can decide who I am, so that I don't have to buy into what someone else might see and might label me as. And this picture made me feel good; I love who I am, I love my life, and I feel confident that, even if the worst happens and my father in law never speaks to me again like he threatened over the phone, I will be able to live a fulfilled and happy life.
I've been dealing with the word 'FAT' these past few days. What is fat? When is someone fat? Who decides? One thing I definitely have decided is that I am not going to allow FAT to be a label for myself or anyone else. Last night I lay awake, wasn't able to sleep, and was thinking about fat, fat, fat. And suddenly I saw fat as just another part of my body....another element which completes this composition which allows me to live. Whether I have a little more or a little less of it....who cares? I have hands that grasp, legs that walk, eyes that see, and skin that holds it all together. Fat is the oil in my machinery. It's a part of me. And why should I hate any part of me?
I also saw the irony in the fact that, the minute I thought I had made my peace with fat, a loved one would call me fat, and I would be forced to reevaluate my relationship to fat (and to that loved one, too). I told him on the phone that I didn't cry because I feel fat...I cried because I was sad that he would look at me and see a fat girl, instead of a girl he loves and respects, who makes his son happy, who lost her child last fall, who is doing her best to be a good and positive person in a world where it's not always easy being good and positive. I cried because I thought someone who supposedly loves me would be gentle with me; nurturing, supportive, careful. I am almost angry at myself for having allowed someone who acted in such a shallow and inconsiderate manner to have affected me so much. I wish I had dealt with all of this differently. You know how it is: you look back on an incident and wish you could have hit 'pause' so you could catch your breath, gather your thoughts, and respond in a true and direct manner. Instead I reacted from an injured, frustrated place, and in turn apparantly hurt my father in law's feelings by insinuating that he is shallow. When he told me I should be careful what I say to him, and that if I insist on him being shallow, he will never utter a word to me again as long as he lives...and then hung up on me...I felt awful. This wasn't how I wanted things to go. (On the other hand, a part of me kind of laughed and thought, "If never talking to me again means him never hurting me with his words again, maybe this is a good thing!")
I am aware that these past few blog entries have been very 'me me me,' and that the subject matter isn't particularly uplifting....still, I can't help but be honest about what is going on in my mind and heart. I hope soon I will be able let go, feel free, and share spring beauty and joyful thoughts with all of you! I really do want this to be a place where you leave feeling refreshed and good. But, you know how it is...sometimes, shit happens!
Thanks for all of your patience and support. I really, really, REALLY appreciate it.