I’m just being honest

19 Jul

This week I’ve decided to talk about my body issues, which are legion, and how they are related to my mother and my relationship with my mother. As much as I would like to think of myself as a unique individual and original in many ways, the truth is, I’ve inherited issues and I’ve fought against issues from the previous generation.

Here are my big 5 issues:

1. Most people don’t think that I look anything like my mother. My mother is an attractive woman and was a hottie back in her day, so when people look at the two of us and their faces get contorted by confusion and befuddlement, I get a little bit sensitive about it. It’s like they’re saying “How could this lovely woman give birth to that?” I’m sure it’s all in my head, but it hurts anyway.

2. My Mom has long legs and a short torso. My Dad had a long torso and short legs. I inherited my Dad’s legs and my Mom’s torso. In other words, I am shorter than both my parents. Worse, I’m shorter than both sets of  grandparents (before they started shrinking due to osteoporosis). In other words, I am the very definition of a runt. Try living that down at family reunions. Anyway, it’s another thing that I’m sensitive about, so if you and I ever meet and I introduce you to my mother, please don’t start the conversation with “Wow, you’re shorter than your Mother. Was your Dad really short?!” No he wasn’t. He was two inches taller than Mom.

3. My mother criticizes my weight but keeps feeding me baked goods. Within the same day, she has been known to say “That top really emphasizes your tummy” and “Would you like more bacon with your pancakes?” Up until she was 40, my mother had a high metabolism. It’s still pretty good these days. On the other hand, my metabolism has been in a coma since I was 9 years old. I can’t even blame my Dad’s side of the family on this one. Go figure.

4. The women on my mother’s side of the family suffer from what I like to refer to as “elephant arms”. It seems that whenever I gain weight, it doesn’t really go to my hips and waist first, like most women. It goes straight to my upper arms. Unfortunately, when I lose weight, they’re the last to shrink. The first things to shrink? My boobs. Nice, eh?

5. Speaking of boobs, it wasn’t until recently that I began to see mine as a gift and not a burden. Years of never having the right bra had taken their toll, but no more. I have lift and a bit of separation. I am not afraid to show a bit of cleavage. Nowadays I just roll my eyes and ignore my mother when she complains that my nipples are making their presence known a little too much. Too bad. Men should really learn to look me in the eyes.

I should be grateful, though. My Mom is aging very very gracefully with minimal wrinkles and no gray hair and she’s completing her 6th decade. Knowing my luck, I’ll have a full head of gray hair next week, but for now I have high hopes.


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