My father told me to buy a lottery ticket. I listened.
Thank you Dad, I love you too! Even though I have to pay taxes.
Thursday, December 26, 2019
Thursday, October 17, 2019
I got you baby girl
Many times the sun has rose and set since I last wrote anything. It's been suggested recently that I start journaling, if for nothing else, to remember some of the absurd things that have been said to me in my life.
My mother pointed out the other day that I'm fat, but I'm not the sloppy, gross fat. I cover myself up. I think this was a compliment, but I'm not really sure. Hard to be clear on her intent with that one. Usually it's clearer (and an insult.)
I can admit the rebellious brat inside of me thought I should wear a tube top and mini skirt next time I saw her, but let's face it, I don't have the balls to go out in something like that!
Oh the on going saga of mother and my fat. What a story it is and it's a long one. I won't bore you with the story, but I will share that I found some answers, deep in my soul yesterday. I've always known that I don't lose weight because she wants me to. It's my one thing I have that I can get her with. For many years of my life when she talked about my weight, my internal response was "oh yeah, wanna see how fat I can get?" and then I'd drive to the nearest fast food place and gorge until the pain in my soul was displaced by the pain in my stomach.
It took years to overcome that, but there is still part of me that holds on to the weight just to ... I don't know ... spite her. Piss her off? Disappoint her? Hell, whatever my weight does to her, as long as it does something negative to her, I've been all in.
Yesterday it came out that my inner child, the child who is really wounded and hurt isn't a little kid. It's not the child who needed nurturing. It's the early teen girl who was told no one would love her if she was fat. It was the girl who was promised a whole new wardrobe if she lost weight. The girl that was asked "wouldn't you be proud of yourself if you lost the weight" as if who I was wasn't worth being proud of...
That angry teen is full of venom and resistance. She doesn't want to give in, to give mother what she wants. She will rebel at any cost, even to sacrifice herself and her wants.
Until yesterday ...
Grown up Karen got to tell teenage Karen that it's okay to let go. Losing weight now isn't betraying the kid I was. It's not just another message saying she doesn't matter, her feelings are invalid. Instead it means that Karen, the whole person, matters more. There is no worth in trying to hurt her. It's a waste of time and energy. It's a waste of my own life.
"Baby girl, your health and happiness is worth far more than any pain you can bring her."
Those we hard words to say to myself, but they were healing words.
It's time to heal.
My mother pointed out the other day that I'm fat, but I'm not the sloppy, gross fat. I cover myself up. I think this was a compliment, but I'm not really sure. Hard to be clear on her intent with that one. Usually it's clearer (and an insult.)
I can admit the rebellious brat inside of me thought I should wear a tube top and mini skirt next time I saw her, but let's face it, I don't have the balls to go out in something like that!
Oh the on going saga of mother and my fat. What a story it is and it's a long one. I won't bore you with the story, but I will share that I found some answers, deep in my soul yesterday. I've always known that I don't lose weight because she wants me to. It's my one thing I have that I can get her with. For many years of my life when she talked about my weight, my internal response was "oh yeah, wanna see how fat I can get?" and then I'd drive to the nearest fast food place and gorge until the pain in my soul was displaced by the pain in my stomach.
It took years to overcome that, but there is still part of me that holds on to the weight just to ... I don't know ... spite her. Piss her off? Disappoint her? Hell, whatever my weight does to her, as long as it does something negative to her, I've been all in.
Yesterday it came out that my inner child, the child who is really wounded and hurt isn't a little kid. It's not the child who needed nurturing. It's the early teen girl who was told no one would love her if she was fat. It was the girl who was promised a whole new wardrobe if she lost weight. The girl that was asked "wouldn't you be proud of yourself if you lost the weight" as if who I was wasn't worth being proud of...
That angry teen is full of venom and resistance. She doesn't want to give in, to give mother what she wants. She will rebel at any cost, even to sacrifice herself and her wants.
Until yesterday ...
Grown up Karen got to tell teenage Karen that it's okay to let go. Losing weight now isn't betraying the kid I was. It's not just another message saying she doesn't matter, her feelings are invalid. Instead it means that Karen, the whole person, matters more. There is no worth in trying to hurt her. It's a waste of time and energy. It's a waste of my own life.
"Baby girl, your health and happiness is worth far more than any pain you can bring her."
Those we hard words to say to myself, but they were healing words.
It's time to heal.
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