Finding myself in the Middle East



Wednesday, May 2, 2012

I am who I yam

"How do you feel about being broad?" Her question is open and honest.

She is that rare tall-petite combination that is was my futile goal. Even when I was dangerously thin, thinner than my petite friends, I learned that bones don't shrink. No matter what I do, I will never be petite.

She continued. "Because I used to wish that I was broad shouldered, like all of the models, you know? I have big hips"--she pointed at her slender lower body--"and I feel like if I had broad shoulders I would be in proportion, you know?"

So I told her my speech, the one I tell myself all day every day. That no one takes us apart inch by inch the way that we do to ourselves. That we are more than the sum of our parts. And that FOR G-D SAKES WOMAN, YOU DON'T HAVE BIG HIPS.

"Am I just going to have to keep telling myself that?" She said in frustration, twenty minutes later, when we were on to inner beauty and outer beauty. "Am I ever going to feel it?"

Yes and no.

Sometimes yes, sometimes no.

Just like everything else in our lives.

Is it the human condition? To hate what we have and covet what is not ours? It must be, because we are commanded not to.  And we must be able to overcome it, because we are commanded to.

In America, I went to the DMV to get my...yes, alright, I went to get my permit, and it's a long story, and I'll post about it someday, but you should know that the pimples and angst are clearing right up.

SO ANYWAY, I went to get my hm-hm, and sitting in front of me in line were two women, their backs to me. One had a head of kinky curls, the other's was stick straight. When it was their turn, they stood and I saw--the curly head belonged to an Asian woman. The straightened hair's owner was black.

So, long windily, I am here, with my kids, and they want want want, because apparently everyone's mother gives their kids those huge ices every single day.  My cries of "I am not their mother. This is not what we do in our house. It is not good to have sugar sugar sugar all day long! Who wants some ice water??" is not met with resounding understanding and gratitude.

Maybe when I accept myself so totally it will roll off of me in waves and they will, too.

Maybe I should just give them the ices.




8 comments:

Mystery Woman said...

When my daughter, who had gorgeous blonde curls, was little, she used to draw pictures of herself with straight brown hair. And bangs. Bangs were her dream, and she couldn't have the kind of bangs she wanted with those curls. My second daughter has straight hair, and she'd do anything for those curls.

Maybe just give them the ices. A little sugar won't hurt them. (Can you tell I'm a grandmother? :) )

Cymbaline said...

MMMM ices. But only when it's over 80 degrees (thats farenheight for you israelis - 80 degrees celsius will roast you good).

Princess Lea said...

No need for the ices. They should just learn they can't always have what they want. You give them what they need.

Anonymous said...

Yeah, you should give them the ices. It's a losing battle. THEN you should tell me that I don't have big hips.

See? All good now.

CantStopBaking said...

I am surprised you write "yes and no" to me it's a shadow of a mantra....usually it just sounds like this when I look in the mirror : ggggrrrrrrrrrrr....eh, its not THAT bad. But honestly- here's some food for thought for you: I lost 25 pounds about 2 years ago - And to my eye, I looked EXACTLY the same in the mirror 25 pounds before and after. How about that?!

Sporadic Intelligence said...

Sometime I really and truly believe and live the things I say I do, and sometimes, I doubt everything I know.

We all have our days, sometimes I'd give the ices and sometimes I wouldn't, that doesn't make me inconsistent, but human.

Right?

postpunkchronicles said...

compromise--give them frozen fruit to nosh and love yourself for not totally loving yourself.

You can't make yourself be okay with who you are just because you wish you did. It's a process. Maybe when we're old and wrinkly and an hour away from our last breath we'll say "oh! I am pretty nice looking after all!"

JerusalemStoned said...

Okay, I just spent two days trying to do that thing, that you can comment on the comments. And my computer laughed a great laugh. So I will just respond by name:

Mystery--my mother actually allowed me to cut my curly hair into bangs. I promptly grew them in. It was a learning experience. :)

Cymbaline--I make orange juice ices now! But then I eat all of them. So it doesn't work so well.

Princess--I agree in principal. But then...sometimes...remember as a child, when you just got a treat for no reason at all?

Anonymous--you have tiny tiny hips!! I can barely see them! They are, like, anonymous! :)

Can'tstop--about the losing 25 pounds and then not seeing it anymore. EXACTLY. Nail. On. Head.

Sporatic--I shall knowledge my humanity. One day. :)

Postpunk--wouldn't it be so sad to wait until then? I have a neighbor who says "thanks" when people tell her how pretty she is, instead of, "yeah, except my ___" like so many of us do. It is so refreshing. It's so sad that it is so refreshing...

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