"You're so boring"

My boyfriend and I had gone a month without seeing each other until he finally could come to Pennsylvania to see me.

He came in March so it was still cold, with some snow on the ground, and a thin sheet of ice still on the ponds. He was from Texas and never had seen that much snow, and definitely never saw a pond frozen the way it was.

He started off by throwing ice onto the pond to see it shatter. He thought it was so cool, so he started to take some ginger steps onto it.

I told him to be careful because it was only 2 or 3 inches deep, and then he got on the ice. It started to crack and he almost broke through before he got back onto the bank, all while I told him to get out so he didn't fall through.

He made it back to the bank, laughing. He told me I was so boring. 

He complained the rest of the trip that I was boring and wouldn't get on the ice with him.

I guess the girl he slept with and broke up with me for was more interesting.

Too hairy.

A few months ago I was dating a guy who always told me that I was too hairy and that no one would love me.

These comments stuck to me like glue.

I asked one of my closest friends what he thought and his only response was, "Well you are really hairy, but I love you, so only one of those things is correct."

It hurt knowing that two people who were very important to me thought this. I constantly wondered who else thought this was true.

Shortly after my friend's comment I broke up with the guy and stopped talking to my friend.

Then I started dating another guy but never asked him if I was too hairy until today. His answer? "No." 

"Your feelings are completely valid."

"Did your dad ever tell you to play a different instrument?"

He said it casually, glancing at the large double bass resting like a faithful bloodhound beneath my feet. 

I was so shocked and irritated that I had no reply. Why do I need to play a different instrument? Why do I need my dad's approval? 

What stuck with me wasn't just what he said. It was what my dad, my then-boyfriend, and his father said to me. 

"You're overreacting." 

"He's just trying to be friendly." 

"It's not that big a deal." 

Anytime I mentioned in front of that boyfriend, he would get angry and say, "You're still upset about that? Just let it go." I stopped talking about it with him. I stopped mentioning it to anyone, but the comment lingered in the back of my brain every time I went out to a gig with my bass.

What also stuck with me was the complete relief when I finally felt safe enough to bring it up with one of my professors. When she heard it, all she said was, "Your feelings are completely valid. What that man said was wrong, and he shouldn't have said it." 

There was no argument. No trying to explain. Just complete acceptance and understanding.

Fan Mail

Thank you for this project. It is meaningful in many ways. And I believe you've assisted in setting many people free of these seemingly innocent but still hurtful words. You've definitely helped me realize that I have the ability to acknowledge it happened, but that I don't have to continue to carry his comments with me. His words are not my truth.

"The reason you can't dive is because of your back fat"

The summer I turned 12 years old, I spent a lot of time at the local swimming pool. There was always something so calming about the water, whether it was the pool, the lake, the river. Playing in and being surrounded by water made me so comfortable. Being that comfortable was not a luxury I often had in my life, so I was especially thankful for these "retreats." 

I had been working on perfecting my dive for a week or two, trying hard to keep up with those who made it look so effortless. I was so proud of the progress I had been making.

Then a boy I had a mild crush on said to me "The reason you can't dive is because of your back fat," and he laughed.

I was crushed. I had never even realized I had back fat. But as I twisted around and examined my body in the mirror, I did have a slight roll on each side, below my bra line. 

I've had body image issues ever since, struggling with bouts of bulimia among other things.

To this day, when I look in the mirror as I dress, I am reminded of my imperfection, the cruel laughter at my expense.

I think of all the times over the past 15 years that I've silently agreed with him as I disapprovingly gazed at my flaws. And I'm kind of pissed about it, now as I end this story. How much of my self talk I've allowed to echo his voice since that day.

No more. 

"She must not even care"

One day in high school, I was riding the bus home. It was a peaceful ride. I was reading my book, as I normally did, and keeping to myself.

All of a sudden I heard these two boys, one my age one older, start talking about me. These boys knew nothing about me, other than the fact that I was overweight.

They started talking about how gross it was to look at me, how I must be eating all the time to look like that. Then one of them said something that cut worse and deeper than anything else they had said: "She must not even care that she looks like that."

With that, a single tear hit the page I had stopped on.

Before I could even turn around to defend myself from these verbal attacks, they stood up and got off the bus.

I was left there, young, impressionable, and hurt.

They never knew the impact their words made on me, and they never will.

"I knew you were promiscuous..."

When I was sixteen I tried to tell my (alcoholic) mom that I had been raped four years prior. I don't know how I wanted her to respond, but I needed her to know. 

As she lay on the couch, I spilled my guts about the older guy that took advantage of me years ago. 

After I finish my story all she had to say was, "I knew you were promiscuous, but I didn't know it started that young." 

She then proceeded to fall back asleep. 
 

"Big"

When I was in high school I wasn't attractive. I had fuzzy hair and acne. I had a pension for Marilyn Manson and black eyeliner. I wasn't trendy or popular. I didn't get asked out. I had average grades and excelled at seemingly nothing except science.

There were two stoner girls I always worked with in class. They were slim and pretty and nice enough. They liked me because I knew the answers and came up with the most interesting projects.

One day as I was walking into school I overheard them talking about me to someone in my class that, unsurprisingly, didn't know my name. They described me with the usual descriptors I was used to: fuzzy hair, goth.

But then they added in one that was new: big.

I took it to heart because it was a new jab, a new problem.

I confronted them later, and they explained that they meant no harm, as I am nearly 6 feet tall.

But my life from that point on revolved around my weight.

I ate 600 calories a day and worked out 3 hours a day for nearly 4 years. I spent the entirety of my adult life struggling with my weight.

I'm 30 now. I've been in and out of treatment. I don't know if I'll ever be all right with myself.

Girls Like Me

The night I was raped, my rapist told me, "To girls like you, no means yes."

This has stuck with me, because in a way its true. But not the way he meant it. 

Every time a teacher told me I wasn't smart enough, I studied harder and longer so I could tell her, "Yes I am."

When I was told I would never advance at work, I improved my numbers to prove to my boss that, "Yes I could."

So I guess he was right.
To girls like me, no means yes.
 

Grocery Store Girls

A little while ago I went to the local store to buy some groceries. I am not fit, nor thin. I am on the plus-size side.

Two girls were in the parking lot, randomly making fun of people that walked by and insulting them. As soon as I pulled up and parked, they immediately started saying things to me, but I couldn't hear them. Once I stepped out of the car, their laughter roared even louder.

They started saying how fat and ugly I was, that nobody would love me. Comment after comment, they would laugh louder and louder. 

I kept on walking, ignoring them, but I took it personally. I was hurt and angry. I felt disappointed in myself, wondering if they were right about my appearance. I wanted to say something back, but I couldn't. I went into the store with their hurtful comments and laughter echoing in my head.