I have been very upbeat and positive in my blogs lately, but I am human. I have good days; I have great days, and I have days where I let my environment and surroundings take control. I know better than this. I can choose to be happy. I can choose my emotions, but sometimes a look or words, from someone who doesn’t even matter in my life or in your life… well, it can affect us.
I cried today.
I cried because I allowed a man’s words in a grocery store to hurt me. I allowed his callous and unkind behavior to affect my mood, my day, and my outlook on myself.
How? Why? Why would any of this matter?
Let me explain what happened. I went to the gym. I was wearing a brown Flynnville Train T-shirt. ( A band t-shirt) and a pair of black kind of baggy workout shorts. (I’ve lost a lot of weight) My hair was pulled back in a loose mom bun and I had no make-up on what so ever. I did 3 miles in 45 minutes on the treadmill. That is a pretty decent time for me. Remember it was not that long ago, I couldn’t walk a block and I weighed 355 pounds. I am more than 100 pounds down, but I am not a size zero. While I am no longer trying to squeeze myself into a size 28, I am happily slipping into a size 16.
I was feeling really good when I left the gym. The trainers are super supportive and really proud of me and the work I have down. Have I mentioned in any of my blogs that the doctor removed me from Metformin for diabetes and Lisinopril for high blood pressure? My a1c at my last doctor’s appointment was 6.0. Last September it was 12.5. My trainer gave me a t-shirt today that said I was a finisher in the 60 day challenge. No I technically did not win the challenge, but I finished it and got off some pretty big meds, SO I WAS PROUD. I was feeling very good about myself.
I stopped at the grocery store on the way home to pick up a few items. While in the produce section, I saw an older man trying to bend over and get onions from a bin on a low shelf. I considered offering to help him, and then realized his wife was with him.
Now I am NOT judging this man, but you need to understand he was older and very large. He was struggling to walk while pushing his shopping cart. I have been there. Remember I was the 355-pound woman that couldn’t walk a block. He thought he was whispering, but he was speaking loudly, well loud enough for me to hear. He poked fun at my clothing; he made fun of the state of my hair, the size of my chest, and made a few other very cold statements. He even suggested that I work on a corner on 34th street for my drug money. His wife cackled loudly, almost like a hyena. He laughed at himself and continued to berate me.
I didn’t cry in the store.
I didn’t cry in the car.
I waited until I got home. I walked into my bedroom, and I cried.
I looked in the mirror and I started to berate myself.
I am so ugly.
I am so fat.
I will never be thin.
I will never be perfect.
I hate my skin.
I hate my hair.
I hate my shape.
I hate myself.
I HATE MYSELF.
Whoa! Wait a minute. I stopped.
I hate myself? I questioned.
No! NO! I am proud of me.
Look at what I have accomplished in my lifetime. Look at how strong of a woman I am. I am beautiful with or without makeup. I am fierce. I have a voice, and I make sure it is heard. I have curves. I am voluptuous. I have piercing turquoise blue eyes; I have gorgeous straight jet black hair. I can make people smile. I can make people laugh. I have one of the most loving and caring hearts. I help others before I help myself. I am a giving person. I am talented. I am brave. I am strong. I am beautiful. I am me.
I am me and I am pretty wonderful.
It is a shame that man will never get the chance to know the real me. He made assumptions on who I was by my appearance.
His words…. broke my spirit. I allowed his words to enter through my ears and penetrate my soul like a poison.
His words were just words.
I can be sad, and I can cry; however, if I do that, I give him power.
I can be angry and mean, but that is not who I am. If I chose to criticize him in this blog the way he did me in the grocery store, I would only hurt my spirit more.
I need to be true to who I am; thus, I choose to pray for him and his wife. I pray they find happiness and peace within themselves.