Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Yup, still hurts...

I thought that maybe when I reached a certain age, being made fun of for being fat wouldn't hurt as much.
I was wrong. So, so wrong. It still hurts just as much as it did as a teenager.

I was in a hurry this morning to get all 3 kids packed up and out the door to head to my grandma's house that I didn't get a workout in this morning. I totally ignored my alarm since the storms kept me up most of the night. My almost-5-year-old is scared of storms, and he ended up snuggeld up between my husband and me, his foot in my rib cage. Sleep was non-existant.

I promised myself that I'd take a walk tonight after the kids were tucked in bed and Jason was home to watch them. I much prefer to walk in the evenings, without pushing kids in a stroller. And with Jason deploying soon, my evening walks are coming to an end. I really enjoy the solace and peace while I'm walking, which is why I don't walk wearing headphones with music.

Well, normally it's peaceful. Until tonight.

I was about halfway into my normal 1.5 mile loop when I saw some kids ahead of me on bikes. They were on the opposite side of the street. I was in a rhythm and chanting in my mind "That which doesn't kill me, only makes me stronger." I was sweating. I was in the zone.

As I approaced the kids, I didn't make eye contact--just kept focused on the sidewalk ahead of me. Then I hear mooing noises and obsenities that I won't repeat here because they don't deserve to be repeated.

At first I wanted to run across that street and knock the brats off their bikes. I was balling my hand into a fist, and I just walked even faster. Eventually as I rounded the corner, the taunting stopped when I was out of sight.

Really? I couldn't believe what just happened. I'm guessing they were junior high age. I was a middle school teacher in my pre-mom life, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Middle schoolers are notoriously judgemental and self-centered.I shouldn't have let it get to me.

Yet here I was, walking down the street pretending that it was sweat, not tears, coming from my eyes. I'm almost 30 (1 more week until that lovely milestone...ugh!). Why should I let some middle school punks get to me that way? Then I realized that I shouldn't.

Instead of sulking the rest of the way home, I actually jogged for a bit (note to self--buy better sports bras). In that moment, I decided that I didn't give a rip who saw this fat girl trying to run. If someone wanted to make fun of me for it, then so be it. Because at least I'm out there trying to better myself and my health. I decided to get up off the couch tonight and give myself 30 minutes to become a better me.

I hope those boys know how much words can hurt, no matter what the person's age. And I pray they don't make fun of their peers that way. Words hurt. But instead of letting what was said to me bring me down, I'm going to use those words to push me to work even harder. And if I know teenage boys (and I do know how they operate), I bet this time next year when I run by, I hear whistles instead of mooing. Then maybe I'll stop and talk to them, remind them that I was the fat woman they mooed at before and watch their jaws drop.

I'm over it. People can moo, yell, taunt, or tease as I walk by. Because I know it's only a matter of time before they realize that I'm shrinking. And then they'll be the ones looking stupid.

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