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Archive for the ‘life’ Category

I Do Not Have One Negative Memory

*she said sarcastically*

I now have a very light relationship with my parents. I’m not sure how one even has a real relationship when they are told that they only want to be heard from if they can remain non-controversial. Which means, only speak to us if you agree with everything.

But, I have to take the boys back to IN, and I stay at Grandma’s to crash for the night before going back to GA the next morning. I don’t stay in IN. And, Grandma lives next to Mom and Dad.

I’ve really attempted to not insert my opinions. Heck, I’ve even kept my mouth shut about facts. Because facts seem to have a liberal bias at their house. Soooo…what is there to safely talk about while they preach about Donald Trump being the best thing to happen since sliced bread? What is there to say when they grill my 9 yr old about why he doesn’t go to church? (“because I won’t give him the car keys” isn’t met with as much laughter as I had hoped)

So, friends! I can talk about my friends! This is good right? Ann is my best friend, they know this. Great, so far so good. Ann got me a Christmas present! I am on a roll, nothing “controversial” here. It was amazingly thoughtful. I had told her, a long time ago, how much I loved Barbie as a kid. And, how because there were always babies in my parents house, I was never allowed to keep Barbie’s shoes or accessories. Because the “baby might choke”. So for Christmas Ann brought me in a big box…with a Barbie, and 3 outfits, and a closet full of accessories. Probably 15 pairs of shoes, sunglasses, necklaces, purses, everything.

I finished my story, and my mother said “that’s ridiculous. You lie. You had dozens of pairs of Barbie shoes. We never got rid of them, you always lost them or didn’t take care of them. It wasn’t that great of a gift.”

So, I just said “well, I thought it was a cool gift anyway” and she said “fine, but just know, you always had the shoes.”

I dropped it. But, then I had a 12 hour drive back home with my husband. I remember. I remember crying as the threw the little stuff away. I remember my dad telling me if I didn’t shut up he’d give me “a reason to cry.” (which i always thought was stupid, obviously, I have a reason to cry,hence why i am crying) or, alternatively, telling me if I didn’t shut up, then we could just throw away all my Barbies. I remember, the choking explanation was used for why we weren’t allowed to have Legos either. I remember deciding the Barbies in swimsuits weren’t worth getting because we couldn’t get them wet, because mom said it would ruin their hair. I remember the Barbies were stored in this neon pink suit case, it was a hard case, it was little. Not a real suit case. I remember it had purple latches, and a purple handle, and the latches slid closed sideways, they didn’t flip up. I remember you had to make sure there was no tulle or satin or anything else not entirely within when you tried to close it, or it wouldn’t latch. I remember my favorite dress for Barbie was an orange-peach strapless column dress…it was satin and had a green velvet trim around the top. And, sewn to the waist were like, triangles of tulle, staggered and layered, so the tulle poofed out and had a bunch of different pointy ends, just shorter than the satin. I can clearly remember all of this…but I’m completely wrong about the shoe thing? And, believe me, if there is one thing I’m rarely wrong about, it’s shoes.

So, I started thinking back to the things that I’ve said as an adult that piss off my parents. And, I figured it out.

If I remember anything positive, they say that is exactly how it happened, they can’t believe i remember, I have such a great memory.

ANYTHING negative though is met with “no we didn’t”, “that’s a lie”, “you can’t remember that, you were too young”, “why are you always trying to pick a fight”

Even if it isn’t anything “bad”. I didn’t mention the shoe thing to accuse them of doing anything wrong. I didn’t tell my friend to play the martyr. It was more of a wistful memory “I would have liked that, but the baby would have choked on the shoes, so I couldn’t have it”. That was it. I didn’t attack my parents, I didn’t ridicule, I didn’t say it was stupid. I just said “I wanted this, and it didn’t work out”.

Any memory I have that isn’t positive is a lie, according to them. That I made it up because I want them to look bad.  Yes…because I’m really sitting here going “you know what would really make my parents look bad to my 35 yr old friend? if I tell her how I wasn’t allowed to have Barbie shoes when I was 6.”

How can ALL of my negative memories be wrong, while all my positive ones are exactly correct? I feel like I’m pretty fucked up for someone who had such a perfect childhood.

I’m going somewhere with this, I think. But, I’m at 900 words and I need to go walk the dog before the thunderstorms/tornados are completely in the area.

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We Were Raised This Way

I recently read another blog post, We were Told to Do the Hard Things. Well, We Are.

I agree with much of the post, but what really resonated with me was this;

You know those concerns about advanced technology escaping our control and taking on a life of its own? In some sense, that is what is going on here. The leaders of the Christian homeschool movement set out to create an entire generation of culture changers. Well, they succeeded, but it’s our turn now. And they’re going to have to live with it.

Brad and I were the in the first big wave of home schooling. Maybe it wasn’t completely unheard of, but it was definitely weird. Mainly used by religious zealots. We probably fit into that category. Or, our parents did anyway.

We were told we were being home schooled to keep us from bad influences, because we’d give into peer pressure, because they didn’t want what they taught us to be undermined by anyone else. We needed to be kept from others until we were strong enough to fight for what we believed. We were supposed to stand up proud and defend our beliefs.

Somehow though, they never expected our beliefs to be different from theirs. We were supposed to grow up up and parrot back the things we’d been told for 18 yrs.

And, many of “us” did exactly that. But, some of us didn’t.

A lot of those kids are my age now. A lot of us are in our late twenties, early thirties, and have a lot to say. We’re a decade or more out now, we’ve learned to speak our minds, and make up our own minds. We’ve seen where our education was lacking, and where our up bringing bordered on abusive, and we finally realize it. Some of us tried to get help back then, but weren’t taken seriously, and realize we have a lot more power now.

Now, we are speaking our minds, we are standing up for what we believe. It is us standing up and asking for stricter regulations, more checks in place. We’re talking about all of this.

And, often, the parents have become the school bullies. The ones trying to shut us up, trying to discredit us. There are many of them fighting back saying that we have exaggerated our stories for sympathy and attention. That we have ulterior motives. I’ve even seen us compared to demons, being used by Satan, attacking good Christian families. These loving parents have destroyed their relationships older siblings have with younger ones… because they won’t allow the older sibling to say “this is wrong”.

They wanted us to be strong, to stand up for what we believed.

Now we are, but, we didn’t follow the script, so, they believe that by becoming everything we were taught to be, that we have become the enemy. We are supposed to shut up otherwise we lose our siblings, our parents. We are supposed to shut up because anecdotes do not equal data, we are supposed to shut up otherwise we will have more government in our lives and our children will be taken away. We are supposed to keep the secrets, because not EVERY family was like that.

That one always amuses me, in a sad sort of way.

“Don’t tell anyone about abuse, because there are so many families doing it right. And, don’t tell anyone about your upbringing, because it wasn’t that bad, there are so many families that abused their kids worse.”

Yes, we can’t tell, we can’t beg for more regulation, because there are many families who do teach their kids to read, and they shouldn’t be punished for the actions of the very few. But, we are also told that the isolation wasn’t that bad, because some people lock their kids in cages. The bruises weren’t that bad, because some people break bones. It wasn’t real abuse, because other people had it worse. (And then you have the nerve to question why i didn’t have my ex-husband arrested the first time he tried to run me over…because he didn’t succeed. Because he didn’t break any of my bones. Because he never punched me. So many women had it worse, you know. That’s why I didn’t tell.) You can’t have it both ways, you can’t say we don’t need more regulation because all the parents are good people, while saying your poor parenting didn’t need examined because SO MANY people were worse.

I am thinking about doing a series about home schooling and change, this will be the first part. I have a lot to say, but, I don’t want to make today’s post a novel.

Not What We Expected

I have taken a long, obstacle strewn, tiring course path to Christianity. I’ve shunned God, fought him, ignored him, questioned everything.

And at some point, I met a guy, one who claimed to be Christian, but seemed to pick and choose what to follow. And one day, I confessed to that man what I felt was my biggest sin, my biggest failure yet, and that man held me while I cried, and told me it was ok. He told me that while he didn’t agree with my choices, he wouldn’t throw the first stone. And, finally…I got it. It clicked. That was the turning point for me. I believe in God, I love trying to be the kind of person I think God wants me to be…Christianity and religion though, I’m still struggling with. And, I think that’s ok. We were not commanded to be religious.

We grew up some more, and I married that man. Who has continued to show true love to me, through my mistakes and missteps. And, it makes it a lot easier to forgive him too. But, Brad had been spoon-fed religion from a very young age. I am cautious here because I don’t want to sound like I’m insulting him, I’m not trying to, and I think he understands that. But, he never seemed to mature into his own spirituality. I have always questioned everything, Brad questioned nothing. When I went to church with him, I kept asking why, and he didn’t know, but, he knew he was told to believe this and that was good enough for him. I asked why he never questioned, and he basically never thought about it. When you grow up in a bubble, how do you know there is anything to question? It reminds me a bit of The Truman Show. All these odd things going on, but, they are normal to him.

He can quote you a lot of verses. But, his being fed in church and by his mother what to think resulted in a very different interpretation than I got while I screamed at God for answers and read portions of the Bible while muttering “This is a bunch of stupid, bull crap, don’t even understand the point.” (And yes, Brad will tell you I’m the only person he’s ever known to cuss during a prayer. I am horribly irreverent.) And eventually, those different interpretations became conversations. I could counter anything he said. I never cared much about changing his mind, I just wanted to know his mind. Not the party line. Talk after talk and Brad learned, he didn’t know what he believed. He believed in God, but outside of that…

So, this past year, I feel like I’ve found my feet a bit better. I have tried not to worry about every little thing I am “supposed” to be doing, and instead, focused on the two things Jesus said, Love God, love others. If I’m doing those things, then I think I’m doing alright. While I was finding how to live what I believed, Brad has been learning to figure out what he believes. He grew up in a very legalistic church, and his parents were even more so than the church. There is a lot of room for grace in my life, but, his only had room for rules and regulations. You had to be perfect, but only the SDA’s version of perfect. It’s leading to a lot of interesting discussions, because, Brad learned God was a God of fire and brimstone, who was looking for reasons to cast people into Hell, that good wasn’t good enough. And, I found a friend, and those versions clash pretty regularly.

Anyway, Brad has slowly started to see some merit in my beliefs, and sometimes, I think even if he doesn’t agree with me he can’t see a reason not to, so he goes along with it just to see how it works out. And, we’ve caught some flak for it. I can think of many times the people who are “better” Christians than we are have either outright attacked my beliefs or have spoken incredibly harsh words, not knowing, I was the person they hated so much. Brad was raised to believe everything he is now, everything he does now, is a sin. That he is a bad person for watching football or playing video games, or wearing jeans on the rare occasion we go to church, or enjoying a nice steak after a hard day’s work. It is all going to count against him when he dies. When we’ve tried to share our views, we are shot down immediately.

Yesterday, my husband said something I found incredibly profound

I grew up knowing the verse that as a Christian there would be misunderstanding and ‘persecution’ for my beliefs. I was always taught that it would come from ‘those people’ in the ‘world’. I didn’t realize that as I tried to align my life more with what God said, rather than what people interpreted Him to say, that more of the persecution would actually come from other Christians.

And, yes, that is exactly what he said, I know because he texted it to me rather than said it.

Don’t get me wrong, neither of us consider the rude comments and judgmental attitudes to be “persecution” but, it’s interesting that the worst response we’ve gotten has been from Christians. Both of us have a different best friend, both best friends are atheists, and we’ve actually never offended them. Talked, debated? Sure, but nobody has ever gotten angry.

So, I got a book for Christmas, called Sacrilege by Hugh Halter. I read 3/4 of it the day I got it, then put it down. Yesterday morning, Brad made the comment to me, about the persecution coming from other Christians. I was waiting for my computer to charge last evening, and picked up my book again. Chapter 11 began with Matthew 5:10-12.

Blesses are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blesses are you when people insult you, persecute you, and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted you they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

I think anyone raised in the church has heard this before. So, I continued reading, without giving it much thought. Until the second page of chapter 11, where the author begins to talk about how all Christians know this verse, and they use it to pat themselves on the back when anyone doesn’t like them. They shout “You’re going to hell, Sinner” and when the object of their words doesn’t invite them to dinner or doesn’t immediately drop everything to head to church with the Christian, then this is proof positive they are doing it right. When you tell one of the “Jerks for Jesus” how you really feel about them, that’s how they know they are building “treasure in heaven”.  And, then, the author goes on to ask, who did most of the judging and persecuting of Jesus? The religious leaders, the other religious people. They hated him. He didn’t follow all the rules they had set up, and he was hated for it.

I had never heard this viewpoint before, that it was the “good” Christians who would do the persecuting, and now, I hear it twice in the same day. I am not hated for my beliefs, but my beliefs are hated. I am actually generally liked. I guess, for now, I am choosing to believe I am on the right path. Non-Christians like me just fine. And, I guess that’s a good thing, I’ll hang out with the tax collectors and prostitutes. They don’t seem to be real upset. If I’m wrong, I’m not hearing anything from the Christians I haven’t heard a million times before. If I’m right, than maybe I’ll do some good.

And, I can’t help but think of all this, and remember…that I was the unbeliever, who saw God in the actions of a man who was doing it all “wrong”. Maybe it was all wrong. He loved me, unconditionally, and that was what I needed. And, I’ll do that for others…even though I cuss too much, and sometimes show to much cleavage, and am just quite a bit less than perfect.

Dealing with the Problem

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I got a gift card to a Christian bookstore for Christmas. I have a Bible I really like. I have a cover I really like. I don’t need a cross necklace or a shirt that seems to be about the video game Halo at first glance, and then upon reading you find out is actually a Bible verse. I don’t listen to much Christian music. I found some artwork I kind of liked, but, Brad is going through a “if you are Christian, you shouldn’t have to advertise it!” thing right now, and wrinkled his nose, and especially since I didn’t love the paintings, I left them there. But, I found these mugs. They were cute. And, they were the size I like for my morning coffee. And, they were heavy. Not the kind that burn your hands when you microwave them. So, this is what I bought.

Now, speaking of loving my husband, I thought I’d update after my last post. Brad really was driving me nuts when I wrote that. But, how to deal? So, I had a nice long talk with myself. I think I avoid being put in the crazy bin over these one-sided conversation because they are reasonable. Was he really doing anything wrong? No, he was not. Was he a jerk? No. Was I really mad at him or was he a safe place to direct some anger? Crap…maybe he doesn’t deserve this. But then, I’d try to find other things to be mad at him about. So, he’d deserve it.

And, I decided to stop it. If I loved him, which I do. And, if I wanted to have a happy marriage, which I do, then I couldn’t go around looking for trouble. I decided while I was still very frustrated with him, and being very vocal about how frustrated I was, that I was being kind of a jerk, and I had told him plenty that was wrong, but little that was right. He went back to work, and I started writing him e-mails. One a day. Sometimes I started in the morning and added to it throughout the day, sometimes it was rushed in the few minutes before we talked on the phone at night. But, he got an e-mail everyday telling him sometimes specific I loved or appreciated about him.

He’s home now for the holidays, so, the e-mails stopped. But, I am not as annoyed or as short-tempered this time. And, instead of looking for problems, I’ve actually been taking note of little things to tell him I love, to keep up the e-mails once in awhile. It seems to have helped, and I’m enjoying doing it. And, the temptations from November seem to be gone. I’m pretty excited about it.

Point of View

point of viewI keep reading about how Facebook and social media are partially to blame for people having depression. How people only show the good stuff, and are basically “bragging” or “self-promoting”. Here are 2 links, but there are many more you can search for.

Facebook Envy

Facebook and Self Esteem

I can see how these arguments make sense. If your life is kind of sucky right now, you don’t want to see your friends vacations and you will get envious. However, I question whether Facebook is causing envy and depression because of all these people showing off. Or, if the people who are having negative effects from Facebook are more likely to be depressed and envious anyway.

I hate that positive people are seen as bragging. I’ve been working on my attitudes, and trying to become more positive. No, my life isn’t perfect, and often it is quite boring. That doesn’t mean there aren’t good things, even if they are little. That doesn’t mean there isn’t anything beautiful in the mundane. About a month ago we were involved in a car accident. Aussie had some burns and torn up skin on his arm. I had an asthma attack (powder from the air bags) and a broken foot. We had been coming home after going with Aussie for work in PA. We didn’t have to go, he could have flown. But, we did, can’t change it now. It isn’t going to stop us from driving anywhere again. I got asked “was it worth it?” Yes, it was. We saw amazing east coast scenery and forests that looked like paint had been spilled on them. We got to stay in a really nice hotel. We got to spend a couple extra days with Aussie. And,nobody was really seriously injured. Yes, I mentioned the wreck on Facebook. But, there were 5 other positive, good posts. I didn’t post a picture of the car, I posted this.

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That picture up top? The pond and the weeping willow? I see that every morning on my walk. It is maybe 2 blocks from my house. It’s pretty. I had a lot of people tell me how pretty it was, asking where it was. It is pretty. I was posting the pretty. I suppose, to be real I should have turned around and taken a picture of the houses with the metal fences. I should have zoomed out so you could see the goose poop all over the sidewalk. I should have shown you, that weeping willow is draped over the sidewalk, really, quite in the way. If you ride your bike, you will either go in the pond, hit the fence, or get slapped in the face with branches. I should have shown you, on the other side of the hill ,across the pond, is the interstate. And, under the interstate is a railroad track. You can stand and see the pretty view, and hear honking and train whistles, and one time I even heard a semi truck accident.

When we posted pics from our honeymoon, I posted one from Belize. Because we found Belize kind of scary.

I have my truck up for sale, and got a “new” car. Wow, totally something to be jealous of. I posted a picture of it. Then, Aussie got one too. Like, 2 weeks later. All I said was we got new cars. I didn’t say why, I didn’t say because we’d kind of been living right on the edge of our means, and trading to 2 G6s meant we saved about $300/month on gas, $50/month on a car payment, AND will have the one paid off in the spring, rather then 4 years from now, like with Aussie’s truck. So, we’ll save even more on a car payment. We both hated to see the Jeep go, but, this is life, we ended up with a couple nice cars that we like, so, make do and make the best of it.

Is this being inauthentic? Or is it just looking at the good? We did have a good time in PA. That spot is pretty. We do like our cars, and they were new to us.

I think everybody should start posting “bragging” photos. If people started looking for the good, they’d find it. Don’t envy your friend going to the fancy restaurant for dinner, post a picture of the perfect french toast you made for dinner. Don’t get pissy because I posted a picture of our vacation to the mountains, when you LIVE in the mountains, or within an hours drive of the ocean.  Yes, I’ve been on about 10 trips so far this year. A vast majority of them to a. either see my husband at work or b.visit family. So, don’t be envious or depressed. Post pictures of your family, who you only had to walk across the street to say hi. Post photos of your husband and kids eating dinner together on a Tuesday night. I’ll tell you, those ones make me slightly envious. Don’t put down your neighborhood, find a pretty spot and enjoy it.

Nobody’s life is perfect all the time. I promise. So, stop being envious over what you are seeing, because you don’t know the whole story. And, please try to go find some good, and some pretty in your own life. I promise it’s there. I think it is kind of hard to feel depressed and envious when you are finding good things in your life. And, if you find yourself honestly becoming depressed because of Facebook, your account can be deactivated for a time. I have had to before. Your stuff will all be there when you go back. Just get some space.

And, speaking of finding the good. Go watch the video I’ll link at the end of the post. It’s safe for work.  We see all the time on the news terrible stories. We see security footage of people being robbed, of children being abducted, of car wrecks. But, there is good security footage as well.

Positive Security Footage.

Be Careful Who You Hate

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I saw this bumper sticker on a car on the way to Detroit last weekend. You can get it here.

It really hit home for me, because it applies to far more than just homosexuals.

We joke all the time that we are in big trouble when our neighbor realizes how much she hates me. She really does, she is quite gossipy, and talks a lot, about everyone. I keep my mouth shut, but sometimes I just want to be like “yeah, I’m a liberal, who celebrates Halloween, doesn’t go to church, cusses, and wore bright white for my 2nd wedding.” All things she’s been vocal about how much she hates.

If anyone in my family knew the real me, they’d hate me. Because they’ve made it very clear they hate everyone like me.

If Aussie’s mother actually knew us, she’d hate us. Because she hates everyone like us.

If someone grows up their whole life hearing how gay people are perverted, and sinners and going to hell, do you really think they will tell you they are later?

If someone hears their whole life how abortion is murder and how any woman who has an abortion should be killed, or at the very least sewn shut so she can’t ever enjoy sex again, do you really think she’ll tell anyone she had an abortion?

If someone hears their whole life how America is the best country ever and if you don’t like it, you should just leave it, permanently, do you think they are going to volunteer that they actually think America is the world’s bully?

If someone hears their whole life about how God is real and you must never, ever question it or you go to hell, do you think they are going to go to those people with questions?

And, guess what, those horrible things that have been said? Those judgmental attitudes? They don’t actually stop the acts or the thoughts, they just make the “bad” person keep it to themselves and suffer alone.

Now, excuse me, I think I need to buy a bumper sticker.

Weighty Topics

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I am currently down 22 pounds from when I got married, about 15 months ago.

A huge majority of that has been lost over the last 3 months.

You know, when I started dating Aussie, I wouldn’t let him know how much I weighed. In fact, I wouldn’t tell him until maybe a year ago. Somewhere in my head, I had decided that if he knew how much I weighed, he’d think I was fat and not be interested anymore.

We went on a road trip yesterday, and were able to talk a lot. It’s one of the reasons I love road trips with him. I read an article about how “thigh gap” is the coveted thing among teen age girls. And, how so many are not able to attain it, no matter how little they weigh. I told him, I wished I could tell all teenagers, and many adults, it takes all kinds of kinds. Whatever you look like? Odds are good there is someone out there who is attracted to that. Aussie was talking about how guys don’t feel as much pressure to be thin, they don’t keep their weight a secret, but, there is pressure to find the right body type girl. If you don’t, then there must be something wrong with you. If a guy likes a chubby girl, or if that is his type, he is ridiculed. He might date her anyway,but, makes sure to tell his friends that you know, she’s really great. Except for maybe that weight thing. I thought it was interesting. Luckily for us, we met in our late twenties and a bit of the pressure was off. He was free to date a chubby chick, I was free to date a computer geek and we are happy and our friends are happy for us.

I wish weight was not such a taboo subject. I was asked once when the baby was due. i wasn’t pregnant. I remember crying and wanting Aussie to tell me he liked me, fat and all. And, he could not do it. Because you are not allowed to ever acknowledge someone is fat. He basically kept saying I had a great personality and was beautiful, so he loved me. Like, fat girls can’t be beautiful? And, it used to drive me insane when he’d argue with me when I said I was fat/needed to lose weight. I would think to myself “I want to zip line with our son. I am too fat to do so, therefor, I need to lose weight.” and he’d insist I didn’t. We talked about that yesterday, he said that of course he said that, that is what boys are supposed to say. If you say anything else, the woman will be hurt and upset, and either starve herself or become suicidal, so, you never say that. All girls are beautiful and thin. Both of those “issues” with us have long since been resolved. He doesn’t go around going “wow, you look super fat today baby.” but, he doesn’t argue with me about it anymore either. And, I’m good with that.

I thought it was incredibly interesting back when I was dating, before Aussie. I did a lot of online dating. It was VERY common to see a man with a “no fatties” disclaimer on his page. So, I never wrote to those guys. But, quite often they wrote to me.  I reminded them, they weren’t interested in me. I was fat. And, they always said “Well, I didn’t mean you!” I had full length pictures up. I asked what they meant, and it usually was something like

  • I just didn’t want somebody really fat, like, over 200 pounds. (Which I was)
  • I just didn’t want somebody lazy, you don’t sound lazy.
  • I just wanted somebody really pretty, I didn’t care about the weight, and you are really pretty.

And, almost as often as I saw “no fatties” I saw “no girls over 130 pounds” and I think to myself now, so many women are so secretive about their weight, that I don’t even think guys know what they are looking for. Because I dated a lot of “no over 130” guys too.

I read an interesting article recently, about how women don’t know what they want. For a quick summary, almost exclusively, women say they want a tall man. Why? I’m 5’3″. I don’t need a 6′ tall man to be bigger than me.  Basically, what women really wanted, was a man with confidence, a man who would sweep them off their feet, a man who made them feel small and petite, a man who made them feel protected. Shorter men, like a 5’5″ one, who is still taller than me, but, has been told for years he isn’t “tall enough” is not going to be as confident, he isn’t going to feel as much like he is a big protector, so, he’s less likely to act like one, which in turn, turns women off, which ruins his confidence even more, and on and on it goes.

So, what is really behind this “no fat chicks” attitude men have? Oh, I’m sure many guys aren’t interested purely on looks, and that’s fine. But, the fat “stereotype” I think is the problem. Well, if you are fat, then obviously you don’t do anything except sit around and watch tv and eat. It means you are lazy, with no self control, and are just going to continue to balloon until you need rolled out of the house. And, who want that? I think, often when people say no fatties, what they mean is, I want somebody confident. I want somebody pretty. I want somebody who will hike in the woods with me. I want somebody who will swim off my boat. I want somebody I can wrestle on the sofa with over the remote. If we need one more person for the baseball game, I’d like her to join in. I don’t want to spend my weekend watching a lifetime movie marathon. I like salads! And,all those desires translate into “I only want a skinny partner.” Even though, many people don’t actually care.

I once heard a conversation, where people were arguing over fat people. One guy said it was just a lack of will-power. A woman told about her best friend, who had thyroid issues, now is super overweight, and just can’t lose the weight. He retorted with “well, it’s still will power. If she just ate a little healthier, and walked to the mailbox instead of driving, she’d still be fat, but not as fat!” Again, with the stereotypes. Unless you know somebody, you don’t know what they do, or go through. I remember weighing 260 and being yelled at and ridiculed. I now weigh 225.  I’m still fat. I do Zumba for 11 hours every week. I rarely drink soda. I count calories, and park at the end of the parking lot and get in at least 10,000 steps a day. A little here, and a little there, and a little at a time, and I’ve lost weight. But, to someone who doesn’t know me, who saw me being wheeled around the store in a wheelchair last week due to a broken foot, they might think the same thing, that if I just tried I wouldn’t be so heavy.

Like I told Aussie yesterday, I need to lose weight, because my personality doesn’t work with my size. I like adventure, I crave adrenaline rushes. I want to try the new roller coaster, and I want to zip line, and I want to drive the tiny sports car, without the seat pushed back for my tummy to fit, I want to sit next to my son, who isn’t getting any smaller, on the carnival ride, I want to know I’ll fit anywhere I want to be. I want to hike and walk and go through caves with itty bitty openings between the rocks. I fly every few months, I don’t want to wonder if the seatbelt will fit.

Yes, I am currently fat. But, it is a description, same as short, and dark haired and blue eyed and pretty. A description, not an insult. And, I’m not always going to be fat. And, since I said i wished it wasn’t always so taboo…I’ll start. I weigh 225. I’m 5’3″. Today, I cried in the dressing room because I slid on a pair of size 16 jeans for the first time in about 5 years, after working SO damn hard to lose weight.

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