My Wall

There are three main subjects that I can’t talk with people about; politics, religion, and weight. The first two I refuse to talk about just because I don’t want to get into a huge debate, argument, or any kind of disagreement. The last however, makes me put up a wall.

Ever since I was a small child, I have always been on the heavy side. I got picked on for it in elementary school, and in high school I was losing weight, but gained it all back when my best friend broke my heart. I went on another diet fall of ’07, and was doing really good, until I got with my now ex who brought all my old habits back in.

I don’t know why I put up a wall when people bring up anything that has to do with diet, weight, and exercise. I know a lot of people who bring up those subjects are just trying to help me, because they care. When I put up this wall, I get very defensive, to the point where I am almost pissed off. I stop listening to them, either tuning them out, nodding and agreeing (with some attitude: “yup,” “uh huh,” “yeah, whatever”), or telling them to change the subject.

The only reason I can guess that I have this wall is because I grew up with a father who had a drinking problem. He was never physically abusive, but when he was drunk, he sometimes was verbally abusive towards me, and criticizing me about my weight. (Please don’t get me wrong, I love my dad to no end, and when he is sober, he is amazing).

For example, whenever I went to get a second helping of dinner, he would criticize me. He would tell me I would never get a boyfriend until I lost weight. It was nights like those that I cried myself to sleep. I felt like my dad was a hypocrite, since he was no skinny Minnie himself. One day though, he crossed the line. He told me that I wouldn’t have any friends until I lost “all of that fat.”

I flipped. I knew it was bullshit, that my friends liked me for me. Sadly, I believed him about never being able to get a boyfriend until I lost the weight, but I knew he was wrong about my friends. That was another night I went to bed in tears.

Back then, if someone even mentioned weight, diet, and/or exercise to me, I would feel even less motivated to lose weight. Maybe it was a rebellious thing against my dad, but I think I wanted to try to prove to him that I could have friends and still be fat.

A few weeks ago in the car with Maya, we were talking about Brent, and how I was getting the impression that he didn’t want more than a friendship. She suggested that it was because I don’t work out and he does. When I asked her to please change the subject, she continued by telling me her boyfriend wants her to work out and that guys like girls who do so. I tuned her out and gave her attitude the rest of the ride home.

It irritates me to no end when “skinny” people start complaining about how fat they are or are getting. I look at them and ask if they are fat, what am I? They end up changing the subject. I also get defensive when people (sometimes friends) let it slip on saying that someone else is fat, gaining weight, etc. Seriously? I am fat. It’s things like that that make me wonder what that same person says behind my back. I get even more paranoid if they don’t like the person they are talking about.

I know I over-think/over-analyze things.  I know sometimes I get a little too defensive, or am being silly/acting stupid when I put up my wall, but that’s just me. Maybe someday I can fight the wall, and learn to not hide behind it when friends and family try to help me with my weight issues.

Give me some love.