I wished I hadn’t heard her crying. My bathing suit was still wet with the smell of chlorine from the outdoor pool we’d spent the afternoon at. I walked into the garage to see her rounded shoulders shaking as she wept into my dad’s chest, his hands patting her back in comfort. “She’s just like me,†she cried. My ears grew hot as I realized she was talking about me.
When they noticed I was there they paused and waited for me to speak. I asked, “Why is mom crying?â€Â
Mom drew her fingers across her cheeks to dry her tears and explained, “Do you feel fat, Amanda?â€
“I don’t know. Sometimes, I guess,†I answered. Until that point I hadn’t really been conscious of my body or known that it was too big, too soft.Â
“I just don’t want you to get hurt like I have. Do you want to lose weight? Eat better?†she wondered.
“Maybe. Yeah,†I shrugged.
She came and hugged me and I had never felt worse.
I was fat. And it made people cry.Â
36 Comments
Wow, this is powerful. And it hits very close to home.
the things we carry around- they are heavy until we die I think. xo much love
Amanda, this struck such a chord with me. When I was around 11 or 12 I was at a pool with my dad and as I got out of the pool I happened to be taking a deep breath (and thus sucking in my stomach). My father smiled and said, “Have you lost some weight?” Up until that point, I had no idea I needed to lose weight. And I had no idea my father thought I needed to. I spent the next year diligently working out (I was 12!) and eating as little as I could, just so the next time my dad noticed I’d lost weight, he would be right. What’s saddest to me is that I’ve never gone back to that point of not knowing and not caring.
I think this will be another one of those posts that no one will know what to say after. Just wanted to let you know that I read it and love ya.
:(
I understand. My dad used to make fun of me for my “pot belly” when I was around 10. I have never forgotten those words and how they made me feel.
Hi! This is my first time posting but this entry just struck a chord with me. My mom would make me cry by telling me how fat I was. We had been watched a home video (with other family members also watching) from when I was around 7 years old and my mom turns to me, a 11 year old, and says “Wow, I forgot that you used to be thin”. From this point on my mom would would make little comments…she was like the mom in the movie “Spanglish” if that gives you the idea. I still am on the ‘heavier’ side but I constantly hear her voice in my head even at the age of 23. This summer I am starting a strict diet/exercise plan since I am now done university but also because I want to feel better and be healthy but part of me doesn’t want to be the “fat” one anymore.
Damn. That’s heavy stuff. Not really sure what I can say but “whew” and I’m so torn between felling really angry at this or feeling very sad.
Unfortunately, parents don’t always understand the weight of their words to little kid ears. I grew up with a dad that would make comments about my chubbiness. At age 9 he thought I was spending too much time drawing and enrolled me in swimming and soccer. I know he meant well by it. But he has no idea how those comments and actions altered my until then, carefree world. The good thing about these memories is it can remind us to do better by our own kids.
It’s funny how we can be told we’re beautiful and pretty, but it’s always the negative comments that we seem to remember with painful detail. When I was around the same age, one of my close friends made a comment on how fat I was getting. I pretended not to hear her, but I remember the bathing suit I was wearing, I remember how we had been laughing and carelessly plashing around the hot tub just seconds before she made this comment, and I remember how awful I felt after she said it. It’s funny how over 15 years later it still stings. This post was so powerful it forced me to delurk myself :)
No matter how little I weigh, I’ve always had a stomach pooch. When I was a junior in high school (and weighed about 120 lbs), my mom and I were shopping for prom dresses. I found one I LOVED and all my mom said was, “You can see your stomach in that.” I got the dress anyway, but held my breath ALL NIGHT. You can even tell in the picture. Thanks, mom.
My parents offered me money to lose weight in high school. I truly don’t think they were ashamed of me or anything like that, I really do think they wanted me to feel better about myself and be healthier.
But still. Money. And no offers to HELP me, just money if I did it on my own. If I met a number.
Thanks for sharing that Amanda, it must have been hard to put out there to the internets.
I’m so sorry. I’ve been there too. To my mom (and to the relative who thought it a good idea to tell me so at the dinner table when I was 12) I could always stand lose some weight. And then when I was anorexic I was too skinny. Thankfully I came to realize I can’t make everyone happy, and as long as I’m happy with myself that’s all that matters. My husband and kids love me no matter what I look like. Yours feel the same about you. And not that it matters, but you’re beautiful.
My best friend was always a little chubby as a kid, and it was something that she was always self-conscious about. Yet she was the cutest little kid! It’s so unfortunate that size is such an issue, even with kids. Even as I say it I wish I was skinnier! Not that it would make my husband or kids love me any more!
Wow… This one definitely brought back some memories for me, too. When I was 14 I was 5’9″ and 115lbs. I was not fat at all but I remember that every time I wore a shirt that bared my midriff or a bikini top my Mom would tell me that I should go do some crunches to tone up my belly. I would go from feeling happy with myself to totally self-conscious and dejected in a matter of seconds every time she did that…Since then I have never been able to get back to a point where I am not painfully conscious of how my stomach looks in my clothes.
Iknowhuh.
I was 12. It was a similar situation. I still struggle, I mean really struggle. I wrote about my weight today, too.
Wow. Amazing how the experience is so unique for each person, yet so similar across the globe. I ache for younger you.
Wow, you are brave. I can’t say that I would be able to write stuff like this knowing people I know would read it. I have also dealt with weight my entire life and remember comments from my mom, “if you’d just exercise a little”, “eat less”. It hurts, it doesn’t help at all. It turns out years later I find out it wasn’t all my fault, a medical condition didn’t help. But God is amazing helping us grow through it and sending us people who love us, all of us. Not that I’m saying parents don’t love all of us but I hope you know what I mean.
My mom once exclaimed (without thinking) that my legs looked like hamhocks. I think I was in 3rd or 4th grade at the time, blissfully enthralled in the book I had just gotten from the school library that day. I mentioned to her not that long ago how that comment (which she can’t remember making) has stuck with me. She cried and apologized profusely.
I remember learning at ten that one of the boys in my class thought I had the biggest bum. I’ve been forever aware of it’s size.
I love you.
I’m sure this is hard for your wonderful mommy to read.
As it is for many of us.
I’ve struggled with my weight for what seems like forever and I know that words can hurt so bad…
I have been lurking on your blog for quite awhile and I have to tell you, I have never thought you looked anything but beautiful.
I remember the time my mom told me that she was most concerned about my weight because other people might judge me for it and thus it might close doors. That has stuck with me my entire life. People really don’t know the weight of their words.
too close to home and with a daughter knowing how to handle my body image is just suffocating sometimes
My DH was reading you last night and asked if I read you today (he reads you as well, and refers to you as “the boots”) While I had been by earlier to check in on you, your morning bedhead photo had been sitting there glaring at me.
When Jon popped in to visit you, he seemed disturbed by your post (which I thought was the bedhead post) and I didn’t get it. He said to me, “But she’s so thin, I don’t understand that post at all.”
Huh?
I went and read along… I then had to explain to Jon the story behind the post. He didn’t understand.
But I wanted you to know, that even though you battle with those demons, the people that don’t know you think that you are stunning, and can’t see those demons…
Just wanted to share it with you…
My mom has always had issues with her body- she was never fat, but never skinny either. I can remember her telling me “Oh, you’re thin now and you can eat whatever you want, but just wait until it catches up to you.” and then consequently, I would eat more and more junk just to piss her off. Which didn’t exactly make me the best eater in the world.
my mom was always very skinny until her late 30’s. After 4 kids, and beginning of ‘body changes’, she put on a few pounds. she is always very sensitive of her own weight. i was always a little bit of a chubby child (by the worlds standards) and i managed to let school kids comments bounce off me. my mom never said anything about my weight. the closest thing my dad ever came to saying something was his remarks when i would put butter on something. even that little remark stuck with me and bothered me because i felt he was referring to my weight because he never made remarks like that to my other (skinny) siblings. however, when i was young, i spent a lot of time w/ my mom’s grandma. she’d babysit me occasionally and i vividly remember her telling me one time that i was “chubby”. it didn’t hit me in the moment till MANY years later (just a few years ago) and it began to hurt – many years after it happened, many years after my gr.grandma died. when i told my mom (recently) that gr.grandma had said that to me, she got very upset. she said “if only i would’v’e known then that she had said that…” (she was very upset to hear that, even many years later). so… where weight is concerned, i can’t imagine how painful that would be to have my mom say something about my weight – but there have been many other moments in my life that my parents said very hurtful stinging words, all in the name of “love”. words stick. especially those from parents. the pain sticks. thanks for the difficult post – it hit home… and it was very well written. keep up that good communication – a good way to heal those old wounds.
Beautifully written; infinitely relatable. Thank you for sharing this. (Delurking!!)
Wow. This was beautiful and heartbreaking.
I can’t tell you how encouraging it is to read this post and all the comments. Throughout my teen years my dad always tried to encourage me to loose weight. I have always been ashamed of that. I thought that parents were supposed to think their kids were beautiful not matter what and I thought I was alone in this.
Years later, I do know that his hurtful words were (and still are) said only because he himself struggles and doesn’t want me to face those same struggles. But that understanding doesn’t really help does it?
yeah i’ve been there. my dad made a seemingly meaningless joke about me……beeping like a truck as a backed up….when i was 12 and a little over weight. i never let that go. granted, it was a joke. but, it’s amazing that weight words hold. i do pray this stops here. wow. that was powerful.
ps: i LOVED the morning picture. HILARIOUS. and, from a girl with very curly hair i say, i really LIKE your hair curly. it’s shiney and wow! either way, you look lovely. hahahaha……
pps: i bought a hair straightener about 5 years ago and it has saved my life.
my heart is hurting from this post.
I supported my best friend who all through junior and into her 20’s has struggled with weight issues and an eating disorder. The thing is, she has been thin her whole life…but her obsession with weight and eating came about when she was 13 and her family member were making fun of her and saying she was going to end up with the family’s cellulite thighs. She became obsessed with working out and eating very little. She was never the same after that.
I also had another friend who was 10, and her Grandpa told her she was “eating too much for a chubby girl” at the family Thanksgiving dinner. She went to the bathroom and made herself throw up (she was 10!)
It’s amazing how one moment in time can change the course of a young girls life.
I’m pretty sure I’ll be thinking about this post for awhile.
When I was in 4th grade, I weighed about 70 pounds. And I can still remember my dad saying something that sounded like “Booowng” every time I sat down. I told him how it made me feel; he didn’t stop. In fact, he still does it. It’s almost like if he stops, he’ll be admitting to himself that he really did (and does) hurt my feelings.
Thanks for posting on this personal topic–this reader appreciates it.
I know exactly how you felt. Sometimes family think they are helping you but of course, you are not taking it that way. It can be insulting and downright rude.
Sadly, family members can hurt your feelings without knowing. When I was 10, my grandpa started commenting on how chubby I was. My grandma recenlty told me that she sent an old picture of my sisters and I to some friends, but she cut me out of it because I was chubby in the photo. Even now, my family will joke about old pictures of me in my chubby days. I laugh along too, because I don’t want them to know how much it hurt me then, and how much it effects me now. To think that even as a growing and developing little kid, you can’t look good enough to please anyone. I’m 21.
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