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| Deers in the headlights |
To my surprise, they seem normal. We started talking about getting together for a BBQ this weekend, and then she started commenting on how she wants to start running. I was supportive, and replied, that it would be fun to jog together, although this is a complete lie because I don't feel like having to deal with another person's schedule when trying to get my workout in.
She started explaining to me how she was really into exercising four years ago, and then she had trouble with her old house foreclosing, and her dad passed away, so she lost motivation and has not found it yet. As she was explaining this to me she kept haunching over and pinching at an imaginary inner tube around her body, explaining to me that her excess fat would be gone if she just did this thing she really wants to do.
I listened on, and gave sympathetic nods. Fuck, over the past four years I had two kids and during those pregnancies I gained a whooping 80 pounds each time, so I get it. Loosing weight is a lot of freaking work and takes time. Even this winter I stood in front of the mirror amazed as I thought, "After 25 years of praying for big boobs, they finally sprouted."
It was short lived, like a mirage; likely a combination of PMS, holiday eating and a top dollar push up bra.
My aunt, not blood related, just recently had a breast reduction surgery. She told my cousin, "I am so happy to get to join the itty bitty titty committee with you and the girls."
I had to tell my cousin, "Katie, even after she liposuctions her tits, they are still going to be enormous compared to ours."
My new neighbor isn't fat, and I don't even care if she is fat, I just don't want to hear about it. After listening to her go on about her fat, and wanting to exercise for five minutes, I didn't know what to say. I stood there with a frozen face of fake concern.
I think she wanted me to tell her, "no way you're not fat!" I couldn't bring myself to say it though. I was terrified I would give off body language that I'm lying. The pressure of trying to act sincere with someone I don't even know is too much to handle. I would fuck it up, and probably say, "you're not fat at all, there is nothing to worry about, go eat some ice cream," while shaking my head "no" with a big smile on my face.
Therein lies the challenge of reacting to someone who is degrading themselves or saying something that is "making things awkward," sirens start to go off in my head, and a ticker of important information is presented to me, "Don't smile. Act like you care. Nod. Don't smile. Say something sympathetic. DON'T SMILE!!"
Its genetic for me to react like a deer in headlights to a stranger who is trying to get a back rub from me. My parents are not overly emotional types, unless they are fighting about money, and in that case, the gloves come off and the dishes will be flying.
After my sister's dog died, my mom and dad avoided her for a week, afraid of seeing her sobbing and hysterical. When I was having my fourth cold sore of the year, and called my sister to complain and try to identify the stress factor, my sister told me to stop complaining, go take a Valtrex and drink a beer.
We are not the type of people to hand each other tissues, and cry about things together. We'd rather just punch each other in the stomach to cause a distraction from whatever is causing us anguish.
Maybe the new neighbor and I will be able to have a glass of wine over the weekend and she won't go down a well of self loathing. We are not on the kind of terms where she will acknowledge a punch in the stomach as endearing. I could say, "Maybe you should talk to your mom about this, thats who I like to barf my low self esteem on. You're mom can tell you to suck it up."
I'd have to hope she doesn't reply with a sad story about her mom. In which case, I'd freeze up, put my beer down, inching backwards, and think to myself, "Stay calm, and run for the exit."
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