Size Does Matter…Part 3

Speaking with my therapist last night, I had a realization. Have I honestly let a handful of people color my perception of reality, my entire life? I believe the answer to that question is yes and no. Let me explain.

As I write this blog, I’ve been searching my memories for answers as to why I have been on this particular path. Burned into my memory are the bullies, a woman stopping me on the street to tell me that, “You are so pretty, if I only lost weight” and the countless men I have allowed myself to be used by simply because they gave me the attention, the justification of being good enough, that I crave so much. While chatting with my wise child last night, he told me that it is because of the “Vocal Minority”. There may have only been a handful of people, odds are more like six handfuls, that have taken the time to vocalize negative remarks to me, but it is because most people do not take the time to say nice things. The especially hurtful statements when I was young, those recordings would play over and over in my mind and like the water that created the Grand Canyon, those hurtful messages carved out my beliefs. I’m certain there may have been some nice things said to me back then, but not as frequently as the bad ones were. Also, one bad comment can wipe out a hundred good ones. I don’t know why my mind chooses to cling to the bad comments, but I know I am not alone in this matter.

I can’t even begin to tell you how angry I get when I hear that a girl in her youth will put herself on a diet, or worse yet, her mother puts her on a diet because she’s a little chubby. If you haven’t seen the movie The Help I highly recommend that you do. It is from that movie I pull the following quote: “You is kind. You is smart. You is important.” This is said to the little girl whose mother is embarrassed by her own daughter because she’s not thin or pretty enough in her opinion. Instead, the little girl receives the words of encouragement from her nanny, how sad is that? Society has dictated for forever that a woman’s place is to be attractive enough to find a mate. Not only has she been expected to run a household and rear the children to perfection, she is expected to do it while dressed well, make up in place and to keep her body trim and fit so she can please her husband upon his return. You may challenge me on this statement and say that in current times that is not the case, to which I will reply, bullshit! To this day, we are bombarded with countless images of too thin, pretty, young girls, who possess “The waif look”, a term coined in the 60’s to describe models such as Twiggy who were thin and had large eyes. These images are also air brushed so that their skin resembles porcelain, their hair free of split ends and any extra ounce of body fat is immediately erased. Even Opah commented in an interview, that even though she has achieved so incredibly much in her lifetime, the one thing she still wishes she could achieve is successful weight loss…damn. Nothing is ever enough, not even for Opah.

I have spent my lifetime beating myself up because I feel like I am not enough. I’m not thin enough, smart enough, rich enough, nice enough to attract a mate that will treat me well and actually stay with me. I have had success in playing the internet dating game by presenting myself as being mischievous and disposable. I use them for self confirmation and they use me for a moment of fun. For quite a few years, I thought this was an even exchange of services, but now I realize I was just a pawn. Re-entering the internet dating game a year ago, I tried desperately not to fall back into same patterns, but old habits die hard and I could not find anyone who truthfully wanted more than that from me. And yet, I continued to visit the website with hope.

I’ve also experienced a number of scam attempts. It’s not always about trying to get money out of someone. There are individuals out there that just want to have you be impressed with them, say wonderful things to them, acknowledge how handsome they are, how sweet and sexy they are and have no real desire to actually meet you, it’s just a game they play for some sick twisted reason. It just happened to me…again. At first, I was very suspicious, his words of love and devotion came on way too early in the game. However, after I called him on this, he pulled back the reins to a level I was a bit more comfortable with. We exchanged personal contact information and bam, in a heart beat, I received a lengthy email that was over the top. I knew this was not good, but it had been a while since I had played and I enjoyed the attention. Once again, I told him of my personal history with liars and I would ask a lot of questions. If I didn’t feel comfortable with the answers, I would ask more and more questions until I felt comfortable. He seemed to be a willing game participant, our phone conversations felt meaningful and so I slowly allowed myself to believe that maybe it was possible that I had met someone who was as highly emotional and expressive as myself. I took step towards to the edge of the rabbit hole and dared to peer inside. I didn’t see any harm in looking. I was just looking, no intention of buying into the whole idea that someone could feel so much for me without ever physically meeting me, but it looked warm and inviting and I found myself, standing there contemplating taking the plunge.

He asked me if I liked flowers. I asked, “Is that a trick question?” Of course I like flowers and I reluctantly gave him the address of my place of employment. I wouldn’t mind receiving some flowers and when they arrived, I was happy to see them, he had kept his word. I wasn’t over the top giddy like I have been in the past when receiving a gift from an admirer. Instead, I felt peaceful and content, satisfied. His carefully chosen words lifted my heart to a place it has never been before.  No man has ever written to me in a manner that was as thoughtful and kind as he had been and we had yet to meet.  I wrote to him, “I am me and that seems to be enough.  I’ve always worried that I’m not thin enough, I’m not pretty enough, smart enough, I’m just never enough for a man.  Yet somehow today, I feel that I am.  I am the best me I know how to be at this moment in time and it appears be enough for you to feel for me the way you say you do.  Maybe, this is what a mature relationship feels like.  No games, no lies, just mutual respect and possibly love.  It feels wonderful.  Thank you. ” and I meant it. I took a step into the rabbit hole.

I found myself calling him instead of waiting for him to call me. I was initiating the emails because I needed another “hit”. I was allowing myself to believe that I could possibly have met my “Happy Ending”. Many years ago, when my marriage hit the fan, I told a neighbor how I wanted to write about my life’s experiences, but I wasn’t going to start just then. She said that she thought I had enough to right about now with all that I had gone through, why not start writing then? I told her, because I was waiting for my happy ending. For a long time, I thought “The Pilot” was my happy ending, nope. Now I was beginning to wonder if me starting to write this blog, if I had finally attracted my happy ending. Wouldn’t that be something? And, I took another step in.

I wrote to him, ” I called my friend and asked her, “What happens…what happens…what happens when you finally get all that you’ve ever dreamed?  She said, “You’ll finally be happy.”  So much has happened in the past few months where I feel like I am finally beginning to realize my dreams.  I sincerely believe, meeting you is a part of that realization.  I keep thinking, “How can this man possibly be real?  He’s so…everything.”  If this is all a dream, I hope to never wake from it.  However, if this isn’t a dream, if it is a dream being realized, I’m more than ready to live that dream.” I was allowing myself to fall, to sweetly surrender to the idea that I may have met my future, the man who could meet the criteria of the “What I want in a Man” list. I sent him a second email attaching to it one of my favorite songs. It was recorded by Queen Latifah for another must see movie, Living Out Loud the song is called Be Anything, but Be Mine and told him that I hoped to sing it to him one day. He wrote back to the second email in his usual loving manner. Then, I read his response to the first email I had sent, the one about realizing my dreams and I knew the game was over. His response to my email, expressing my greatest desires was a cut and paste job of the email he had sent me a week earlier that read more like a form letter than not. I sat there and stared at the darkness of the rabbit hole and knew, I could go no further.  

I was angry, I began to tremble and began going through withdrawal symptoms. He called me and I confronted him. Not satisfied with his response, I did something I have rarely, if ever have done in my life, I hung up on him. How dare he cut me off from my drug of choice. How dare he respond to my email of realizing dreams with an obvious cut and paste job. He called back and tried to feebly explain himself. I had to think. I didn’t want to think, I wanted to feel “in love”, I love being “in love” and I allowed myself to wonder for a moment if there was some sliver of truth to his explanation. He started to blame me for my inability to trust someone. I roared back at him that I can trust and that I dared to trust him and he scammed me. He said that he had not asked me for anything, no money, no sex, nothing. I told him that it didn’t have to involve asking me for anything. He had manipulated me to the point where I dared to trust him, I dared to dream. I told him that he stole a piece of my soul and that was unforgivable.

He asked me if he should send me more flowers. Really, like that was going to fix things? This guy was an amateur, not only had he either forgotten his place in our story line or had mistakenly sent me an email meant for someone else he was playing that was not as far along in the story line, he thought he could send more flowers to “kiss it and make it all better”? The final blow came, the one I had heard before, a ludicrous explanation of why we wouldn’t be able to meet this weekend and discuss this matter face to face. A sudden business trip to Malaysia? Oh fuck. Really? There’s no coming back from that misstep dude.

Hearing these words, I was immediately expelled from the rabbit hole. I stood there feeling exhausted and beaten, but I knew what I had to do. He asked me, “So you don’t want me to call you anymore?” With my head hanging in disappointment I said, “Thank you for the adventure, thank you for the flowers, thank you for the moment. Good bye.” I hung up the phone, put on my face and went to work. I didn’t cry, I shook it off and thought “Next!” and took a step away from the rabbit hole and towards realizing my dreams on my own.