we would not be able to stand ourselves with our perceived shortcomings. I have done all of these things.
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According to the weight and height chart in my doctor’s office, I am obese but not quite morbid, so I sign up to do Weight Watchers online. I learn how to assign points to everything I put into my mouth. My daily point range is 23-26. If I can stay within that range each day, then I should lose weight. If I exercise, I should lose it faster. The online program appeals to me because I don’t have to interact with anyone face to face. I don’t have to attend weekly meetings, step on a scale in front of anyone, or be in a room surrounded by people who also struggle with excess weight. I should feel some sort of solidarity with the people who attend those meetings—there should be that feeling of “we’re all in this together”—but I don’t. Instead of listening and actively participating in the meetings, I know that I would sit there comparing myself to them: my stomach might be that big, but my thighs definitely are not. Score one for me. There is no possible way I’m as big as that lady. Score two for me. Or worse: I am way bigger than that person. Why the hell is that person here in the first place? I would sit there pitting parts of their bodies against mine, and then be disgusted with myself for doing so.
My nieces and nephew are at my house five days a week. My husband and I trade-off taking them to school in the mornings and watching them in the afternoons while my sister works. The littlest of them, my niece, Kennedy, stays with me until noon when I take her to kindergarten. She is a lot like I was. She loves her Barbie dolls and we play with them every morning. We make them get coffee together and talk about their kids, their jobs, and of course, their pretend boyfriends, who are both coincidentally named Ken.
I try not to let her see me obsess over how many points my food is. I don’t want her to see the way I enjoy and despise every bite of food that enters my mouth, but sometimes she does. Sometimes, I’m not able to plan out what I’m going to eat the night before she comes over, and so she watches me calculate calorie, fiber, and fat into points while I try to distract her by asking her about her friends and school. I’m sure there are times when my sister and I think she is enthralled with Hannah Montana and not paying attention to us as we talk about how fat we are getting, when really she hears some of what we say. There are times when we walk around a public place and as she holds my hand, my sister or I will quietly say to the other one, “Am I as big as that lady? Be honest.” And I think sometimes she must hear that, too.